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Chapter Text

The place was smaller than Ukai remembered, most likely since he hadn’t visited since he himself was small. Karasuno Wildlife Research and Rescue Center had practically seemed like an aquarium to him as a child, now he could see that it was really just two small buildings connected by a covered walkway, one housing the research facilities and one with tanks for the sea creatures who called the center home.

The research building was mostly used by head researcher Tanaka Saeko, but according to her at least once a week undergraduate research assistants from the nearby university came to collect samples and run experiments. This information was given to him at breakneck speed as Saeko led him through the research building and towards the animals themselves.

“You probably won’t spend that much time in that building,” she said as she beckoned Ukai towards the “rescue” part of Karasuno. “Now this, this is where the good stuff happens.”

‘The good stuff’ was four rooms of tanks, one pool, and one room lined with industrial-sized freezers with a stainless steel counter in the middle. 

“This is where you’ll prepare the food every day,” Saeko said, gesturing at the counter which Ukai could now see was used to cut fish on. “My research assistant can take you through the specifics of that, but it’s not that hard. For now I want to introduce you to everyone here, so follow me.”

“Right,” Ukai said, “and by everyone, you mean-” 

“The patients! Come on, this way,” Saeko led Ukai to the room with the pool, where two dolphins were swimming around. “This is our mother and daughter duo. We brought the mother in while she was still pregnant and very underweight, but now that both of them are doing better we’ll be releasing them within the month.”

“Cool,” Ukai knelt by the side of the pool to get a better look, “and they’ll be just fine going back to the wild? Even the baby?”

“Absolutely,” Saeko nodded, “oh but I would be careful-” before she could finish her sentence the full-grown dolphin flipped her tail and sent a wall of water washing over Ukai. He stood up, spluttering and wiping salt water out of his eyes. “Yeah, she’s a bit of a prankster,” Saeko laughed.

“Got it,” Ukai said, wiping wet hair away from his forehead. He decided the dolphins, though very beautiful, were probably not going to be his favorites. “Who’s next?”

Ukai followed Saeko into the next room where long glass tanks lined both walls, in one colorful fish swam lazily back and forth, but the other tank seemed strangely empty.

“We have two octopuses who live here full time,” she explained, indicating what Ukai had originally taken for rocks in one tank. “My research assistant, Sugawara Koushi, does a lot of work with them. You’ll meet him later, but most likely he will take point on feeding them so you won’t have to interact much.”

“They’re small,” Ukai said, bending to take a closer look. One octopus uncurled itself from the bottom of the tank, it’s colors shifting from grey to a mottled white.

“Yeah, but don’t let that fool you,” Saeko grinned, “these two are more clever than any of the other animals here, except the dolphins of course. If you ever are in charge of caring for them make sure everything is closed up tight, or else they will literally escape and go eat the smaller fish.”

“Yikes,” Ukai took a closer look at the octopus, who was now closer to green and seemed to be sorting through rocks on the bottom of its tank. After the octopuses Saeko took Ukai through a room with a large shallow tank which housed four stingrays, one of which let Ukai run a finger along its smooth back. The last room Ukai was led into had three medium-sized tanks, all of which were maybe a meter and a half-deep with steps leading up to the edge.

“Here’s where we treat our sea turtles,” Saeko said. “Only two of the three tanks are occupied right now, and this guy here should be released within a week or so.” She indicated the tank closest to the door. Ukai peered inside to find a large sea turtle swimming slowly across the bottom of the tank. One flipper was badly scarred, with new tissue showing pink through the wide cuts.

“What happened to him?” Ukai asked.

“Probably a fishing line,” Saeko said, “people just leave them out there and the turtles get tangled up. This guy will be just fine, he’s been in recovery here for about three weeks.”

“What about the other one? You said there were two,” Ukai made his way over to the other occupied tank, this one nearest to the back wall.

“She’s only been here for a week,” Saeko said, joining him by the tank. “We found her tangled in a net. She was weak from laying eggs, and she probably just didn’t have the strength to get out of the way.”

Ukai looked down at the sea turtle, a little smaller than the male, and had to physically stop himself from recoiling. Her shell was slashed in two places, deep cuts that marred the otherwise beautiful pattern on her back. Like the other turtle, her flippers were deeply scarred, but these cuts didn’t look as healed as the male’s did.

“Is she in pain?” Ukai asked, his voice a whisper.

Saeko nodded. “Most likely. She’s on antibiotics and some steroids to help her recovery but pain management with turtles is tricky. She’s on an anti-inflammatory, and as long as she’s eating and moving around a little I assume she’s tolerating the pain.”

Ukai nodded. He couldn’t imagine the turtle’s injuries knitting themselves back together, or her ever being strong enough to make her way back through the ocean’s waves. As he watched, her back flippers stirred the water slightly.

“She might not be here long,” Saeko sounded regretful, “but she’s a fighter, so I’m hoping for the best.” There was a warning in her voice which Ukai couldn’t account for.

“Right, I mean she’s in pretty bad shape. So it makes sense she might not make it.”

“Yeah. It’s just sometimes when people aren’t used to this work they can get a little attached.”

Ah, so that’s what the warning was. “Don’t worry, I’m not all that sentimental.”

“Good,” Saeko gestured towards the door. “Here’s my research assistant now, he’s going to take you through prepping the food today and then you’ll be doing that moving forward.”

“Got it.” Ukai turned to find a young man leaning against the doorframe. He was a little shorter than Ukai, with hair so blonde it was practically silver. 

The young man offered a hand to shake, his face breaking into an easy smile. “Sugawara Koushi, but you can just call me Suga.”

“Ukai Keishin.” They shook hands, and he was surprised to find that Suga’s grip was firm and his hands calloused despite his rather delicate features.

“Nice to meet you, Ukai-san. Now if you’ll follow me,” he turned and walked back towards the room with freezers and Ukai followed. “I hope you’re not bothered by raw fish.”

Ukai was about to answer that he wasn’t when Saeko interjected from somewhere behind him: “Once you two are finished for the day come meet me at the bar, we’ll drink to your first day.”

“Uh, thanks,” Ukai said, and Suga waved an affirmative over one shoulder. The door swung shut behind them.

It was only a month into the semester and Takeda Ittetsu already felt wrung out by his University. It wasn’t his students, he liked his students. No; it was a lecturer’s insane workload for the fifth year in a row combined with inadequate funding, only one grad student to help, and not even a whisper of tenure on the horizon. He thought it might actually kill him. 

The first round of tests for his class were stacked on his desk. They had been graded by Yamaguchi Tadashi, his teaching assistant, but they still needed to be approved and put into the online grading system. The class was mostly first and second year students, so the test had really been a way to measure how much the syllabus would have to be adjusted so no one fell behind. Takeda had thought that the test had been pretty straightforward, a way to ease students into macrobiology, but apparently he had overestimated his students’ abilities. He would have to dramatically restructure the rest of syllabus, and potentially the final project would have to be modified in order to fit in the review which was clearly necessary. Just thinking about it made Takeda put his head down on his desk and groan.

He was contemplating the grain of his desk and whether or not it was too late to switch to a less stressful career path, perhaps cowherding, when his office phone rang. He picked it up.

“Hello, Takeda Ittetsu here.”

“Sensei!” the voice of Tanaka Saeko crackled through the receiver. “You sound depressed.”

“No no,” Takeda lied, “just a little tired. What’s going on? How are things at Karasuno?”

“Things are good,” Saeko said. “Things are excellent. Hey, you work too hard.”

Takeda eyed the stack of tests in front of him, “do I?”

“You do! You absolutely do. You should take a break and come have drinks with me and the guys tonight.”

“The guys? You mean the other researchers?” Takeda sighed and leaned back in his chair. “Listen Saeko - I know they’re good people but they just complain about their kids and wives, which I never have anything to add to. And then inevitably they will turn to me and ask when I’m getting married, and I don’t know how to delicately say that unless gay marriage has been legalized in Japan without my knowledge they shouldn’t hold their breath.”

“You know you’re funny when you’re bitter,” Saeko said.

“I’m going to choose to take that as a compliment.”

“Ha! You should,” Saeko said. “But not those guys. I have a new fish guy and Suga and I are taking him out for his first day. It’s the old man’s grandson, and he doesn’t know anyone here yet. You should come say hi, especially considering how much time you and those kids spend at the center.”

Takeda glanced at the clock before answering. “Okay, just to be polite. I can’t stay though.”

“Sure, sure. Hey, Suga will be pleased! He’s a big fan of yours, you know.”

“I didn’t know university lecturers could have fans,” Takeda mused. “But that’s nice of him. He’s a good kid.”

“That he is. Well, we’ll be at the usual spot around 6:00, so meet us there okay!”

“Sure sounds good,” Takeda said. A knock sounded on his door. “I have a student here, so I have to go.”

“Go get em’ sensei!” Saeko called. Takeda rolled his eyes fondly and hung up the phone.

“Come in!” he called. The door opened and the student walked in. Takeda smiled in greeting and gestured to the seat by his desk. “Please, sit down!”

“Thank you,” the student folded himself into the chair. “I’m Tsukishima Kei.”

“Nice to meet you,” Takeda said. “I’m Takeda Ittetsu, thanks for coming to meet with me today.”

“Thank you for offering me a place on your research team,” Tsukishima said. His posture was stiff, and Takeda thought he looked a little nervous.

“I was very impressed with your application,” Takeda said warmly. “I don’t usually accept third years, but I decided to make an exception. However, because of this you might not have the lab experience of the others. Am I right in that assumption?”

Tsukishima fidgeted in his seat, his mouth a thin line. “You are.”

“Okay, well that’s not a problem. I’m going to take you through the programs we use to share and analyze data, and then my teaching assistant will show you where everything is and go through how to format lab reports.”

“I didn’t realize the research program was TA-ed,” Tsukishima said.

“It’s not,” Takeda replied quickly. “He’s a TA for my intro class and a research assistant just like you. But since I’m also the adviser for his dissertation he knows exactly what I expect in the lab, so he’ll be a good resource for you.”

“Oh okay,” Tsukishima’s brow furrowed slightly.

“Is something wrong?” Takeda asked.

“No. No, it’s just-” Tsukishima adjusted his glasses slightly, “you said he would show me how to format a lab report, but I included previous reports I had done in my application. Was there something wrong with them?”

“Not particularly,” Takeda said. “But when you work in a research team everything needs to match up, and I like things done a specific way to make sure we’re all communicating.”

“Okay,” Tsukishima nodded. 

Takeda turned his computer monitor towards Tsukishima and loaded the data processing software.

“Let’s begin with this program,” Takeda said. Tsukishima nodded and focused on the monitor, his face the picture of concentration.

For the majority of the next half hour Takeda clicked through the various programs they used, explained the various experiments they ran, and listed what exactly would have to be gathered every week from Karasuno. 

At 5:25 he was just finishing up. “So even though research assistants are expected to be doing work on the algae project, it’s also about you learning and developing lab skills in order to prepare for a graduate level of study,” Takeda explained. “You should feel free to ask your own questions and even pursue your own hypotheses. I try to foster an environment of collaboration and curiosity, so if you ever want to delve deeper or think there’s another perspective we should be considering I want you to speak up.”

Tsukishima nodded. He had begun taking notes on a yellow pad, and he recorded a few more characters before his hand stilled.

“Great, well for now that’s probably-” Takeda was interrupted by a knock on his door and smiled and called out: “come in!”

Yamaguchi Tadashi stepped into the office, smiling sheepishly. “Sorry Sensei, am I too early?”

“Not at all, I was just saying I had gotten through everything I wanted to today. Tsukishima, do you have any questions for me before your tour?”

Tsukishima glanced at Yamaguchi and then quickly to the floor. “Not right now. Thank you, Sensei.”

“Of course, of course,” Takeda waved him off. “Welcome to the team.”

Tsukishima stood up and offered Takeda a stunted bow of thanks before turning towards Yamaguchi. Despite his considerable height advantage, the undergraduate’s movements were stiff, and Takeda was again struck by the thought that he seemed nervous.

Yamaguchi blinked up at Tsukishima for a moment before offering the undergraduate a wide smile, “nice to meet you!” he said. “I’m Yamaguchi Tadashi and I’ll be one of your fellow research assistants. Tsukishima Kei, right?”

Tsukishima raised his eyebrows, “uh, yeah.”

“Great! Now if you’ll just follow me,” he beckoned Tsukishima out of the office, throwing Takeda a wave as they left. As the two receded towards the labs Takeda could hear Yamaguchi chatting away, punctuated every so often with a word from Tsukishima.

Yamaguchi Tadashi had shoulder-length brown hair which he wore tied in a low ponytail. He had freckles all over his face, but they were concentrated over his nose and cheeks. The corners of his eyes crinkled when he smiled, and he never really seemed to stop smiling. In short, Yamaguchi Tadashi was engineered specifically to ruin Tsukishima’s life. In his defense, Yamaguchi probably had no idea that he was ruining Tsukishima’s life. He probably thought he was just sitting across a table and leafing through a printout of one of Tsukishima’s old lab reports, but this ignorance didn’t make him any less guilty. 

Despite the life-ruining quality of Yamaguchi’s smile, Tsukishima had found the tour relatively manageable. He had taken in less than half of what Yamaguchi told him, but he had really just been expected to walk behind the grad student while he pointed out which labs housed which types of experiments and told him the code for the supply closet. That one he had written down, because he was guessing “sorry I was distracted by a really cute guy so I don’t know the code” probably wouldn’t be considered a valid excuse. The tour had been fine, however going over his lab reports had presented problem, as Tsukishima was expected to respond to questions intelligently and take in information and his capacity for doing so had been dramatically compromised. 

Yamaguchi was leafing through a lab report Tsukishima had written the semester before, and any moment now he would look up and ask a question or give some sort of direction and Tsukishima was going to have to respond in kind. He took a deep breath in through his nose and laced his fingers together loosely on top of the table.

“Okay,” Yamaguchi started, “okay I see what Sensei means here. It’s a good report, it's just not useful in a research setting.”

The slight ding to his pride helped Tsukishima recover his voice, “not useful how?”

“Well I can’t really see your train of thought. You give me all the steps and results, and even how you altered the steps to get a more accurate result, but your thinking isn’t recorded anywhere.”

“I don’t understand, I included everything I did.”

“You did,” Yamaguchi nodded in agreement before leaning across the desk and turning the report towards Tsukishima. “But see this section? It only explains the different steps you took and how that corrected an issue in the original experiment design. Then you go straight to results. How did you figure out that these steps would work? Did you try anything else before you settled on this protocol?”

Tsukishima blinked at Yamaguchi, “are these hypothetical questions?”

“No. Well, I mean, sort of,” he put Tsukishima’s report down and turned to rifle through his bag. “I have an example here which might make more sense. Sorry I’m not really being clear. I just mean that I don’t need to know why you changed this specific experimental design, but for future reports you should really include… found it!” Yamaguchi pulled a few stapled pages from his bag and put them on the table.

“I should read this?” Tsukishima asked. When Yamaguchi nodded he picked up the packet and began scanning the first page. After two paragraphs he looked up, an eyebrow raised. “This is basically a stream of consciousness. I thought it was supposed to be a lab report, not a diary.”

Yamaguchi gave a tight smile, “thank you for the feedback. But what I was trying to model was how you should include the way you think through all the steps you take, especially in a research context. It’s really helpful for both your team members and you to-”

“Wait,” Tsukishima interrupted. His brain had finally caught up with what Yamaguchi had said. “Wait, you wrote this?”

“Yes.”

Tsukishima felt cold all over. “I’m sorry, I didn’t-”

“It’s fine,” Yamaguchi laughed. “It’s not like you’re wrong. I take notes like this for my dissertation so when I go back over them I know what I was thinking. It also helps Sensei give feedback because it’s easier to pinpoint any blind spots.”

“Yeah, that makes sense,” Tsukishima choked out. Guilt sat in his stomach like a rock. “I’m really sorry, sometimes I just talk. I really didn’t mean it-” 

“You absolutely meant it,” Yamaguchi interrupted, his face splitting into another blinding smile, “But it’s really okay. I actually thought it was pretty funny.”

Tsukishima could feel his face heating up and hoped it wasn’t visible. God, he could be such a dick sometimes. And here he had gone and insulted the cute research assistant right to his face! Surely, Tsukishima thought to himself, surely no one had ever managed to fuck up their chances with someone as quickly and efficiently as he just had. It had to be some sort of record.

“Sorry,” he whispered miserably.

“It’s okay!” Yamaguchi actually grabbed his arm and shook slightly. Well, that was incapacitating for a whole different reason. “I promise I don’t mind. Please stop apologizing.”

“Okay.” There was no world in which Tsukishima’s face wasn’t red at this point. 

Yamaguchi, somehow, was still smiling. “The main point I was trying to get at is that you should include your thought process because when you work in a research team it’s really useful and saves time. It can also be helpful to have when you go back to reread so you can be right back in the mindset you had when you did the research the first time.”

“That makes sense,” Tsukishima said. He couldn’t quite meet Yamaguchi’s eyes. Even though he had said it was alright, and was smiling again… he still couldn’t shake the feeling that he had already managed to fuck everything up. Not that there was a lot to fuck up at this point, but still… 

Yamaguchi was talking again, and Tsukishima mentally shook himself out of the grip of his own guilt to listen. “I think that’s really all the feedback I had, so you should be set. I’m sure Sensei already explained this to you, but we do visits to the Karasuno Research Center on Tuesdays and work in the lab that evening and then Thursday and Friday afternoons. Do you have any classes which conflict with those times?”

“No, I already fixed my schedule to work with the research group.”

“Excellent,” Yamaguchi stacked the papers on the table together. “Oh, before I leave can I have your number?”

“Huh?” Tsukishima could not have heard that right.

“Your number. For the research assistant group chat. It wasn’t on your resume, and we usually just coordinate via text since it’s quicker than email.”

“Oh right, sure thing.” Tsukishima took the offered phone and typed in his number, mentally chastising himself. 

“Thanks!” Yamaguchi took the phone back and slipped it and the papers back into his bag. “Now usually I’d stay to chat more, but I have to go write in my diary about stingray biology.” 

Tsukishima’s mouth dropped open, and he looked up in time to see Yamaguchi flash another heart-stopping smile.

“Uh-” Tsukishima managed, but Yamaguchi just laughed and stood up from the table.

“See you tomorrow Tsukishima,” he offered a wave before walking towards the exit. 

Tsukishima watched him leave before dropping his forehead to the table in front of him. 

“Fuck,” he mumbled into the wood. 

Takeda got to the bar ten minutes late, but still managed to be the first one there. He settled at Saeko’s favorite table in the back corner with a beer to wait for the others. About a third of the way through the bottle he spotted the familiar figure of Saeko followed by Suga and another man who Takeda assumed was her new employee. Suga spotted him quickly and the three made their way over to the table, Saeko sliding into the seat next to Takeda and the two other men sitting opposite.

“Sensei! Thanks for grabbing the table,” Saeko smiled wide, “this is my new fish guy!”

“Ukai Keishin,” the fish guy, Ukai, extended his hand across the table. 

Takeda shook it, “Takeda Ittetsu.” He took in Ukai’s bleached hair, his serious eyes, and the worry lines he looked too young for around his mouth. His face was like a map of contradictions. A very attractive map. Takeda pulled his hand back self-consciously. “How was your first day?”

“Fine, thank you,” Ukai said. 

“He’s being modest,” Saeko said, “he was splashed by the dolphin almost immediately.”

Takeda nodded, “a high honor indeed.”

Ukai raised an eyebrow.

“You know she took two weeks to splash me,” Suga offered. “But now she does it all the time.”

“Maybe I annoyed her,” Ukai said.

“Perhaps!” Saeko laughed and brought her hands down on the table, making a loud noise. “I’m buying everyone’s beers tonight.” She stood up and walked towards the bar. 

The table fell quiet in the wake of Saeko’s sudden absence, Takeda looked towards Suga. He was looking at his phone, so Takeda resigned himself to carrying on the conversation.

“So, Ukai-san,” Takeda began, “Saeko says you just moved here. Where did you live before.”

“I lived in Kyoto.”

“Oh,” Takeda said. Once it became clear Ukai didn’t intend to offer any further information he pressed again. “Do you prefer living in a city? It can be a little quiet around here.”

Ukai’s eyebrows drew together for a moment. “I guess I don’t know yet. I always liked this place when I was a kid.”

“Right, your grandfather has lived here for a while,” Takeda remarked. 

Ukai nodded but didn’t say anything. Where was Saeko with the beer?

“What did you do in Kyoto before you moved?”

“Uh,” Ukai shifted in his seat, “a buddy of mine had just started a business, so I was helping him out a little bit. But it recently went under. Before that I was mostly working in a hardware store.”

“I’m sorry about your friend’s business,” Takeda said.

Ukai shrugged, “businesses fail.”

“I suppose so,” Takeda mumbled. This man was giving him almost nothing to work with, and Takeda could be a very chatty guy! He could small-talk with the best of them! He glanced desperately towards the bar, only to see Saeko still waiting, no beers in sight. 

Takeda steeled himself and turned his attention back to Ukai. “Do you like to build things?”

“Hm?”

“You said you worked at a hardware store,” Takeda explained, “so do you like to build things?”

“Oh, yeah,” Ukai nodded. “Mostly just home repair, but sometimes other stuff as well.”

Finally, a topic! “Like what? Do you build furniture?”

“I built a kitchen table for my apartment,” Ukai said.

“That’s really impressive!” Takeda smiled in what he hoped was an encouraging way. “Are you planning on making anything else for your place?”

Ukai scrunched his mouth to one side, apparently thinking. 

“Maybe bookshelves?” he finally said. “And I don’t really like the chairs I have with the kitchen table now, so maybe some stools.”

“That sounds great,” Takeda said. “You know I think decorating a new apartment is the-”

“Beer!” Saeko announced, cutting Takeda off. “Sorry for the wait, but here you go.” She shoved a bottle each in front of Ukai and Suga and then sat down, sipping from one herself.

“Thank you,” Ukai said before turning back to Takeda. “Sorry, what were you saying about apartment decorating?”

Takeda blinked in surprise for a moment, “uh, I don’t think it was anything important. Just that I think it’s the most fun part of moving.”

“Mm,” Ukai nodded thoughtfully. 

What was this guy's deal? Takeda couldn’t figure him out. He didn’t seem to want to talk at all, but he still seemed to think hard about every answer he gave. It was almost charming, in a socially-awkward-loner kind of way. 

“That’s what you guys were talking about? Apartment decorating?” Saeko made a face.

Suga looked up, “it got pretty grim for a moment there without you, Tanaka-san.”

“Then I hope your phone proved a great comfort to you,” Takeda sniffed. Ukai cracked a small smile, which for some unexplainable reason made the wood grain of the table incredibly fascinating to Takeda.

Suga grinned, unrepentant. “It did, thank you. Tadashi says you got a new research assistant.”

“That’s true,” Takeda said. “He’s only a third year, so I’m hoping he’ll continue on next year as well.”

“So the program’s going well, then?” Saeko asked. “If you’re funded through next year.”

Takeda took a sip from his beer and nodded, “yeah it was extended for another two years. I don’t know if I’d say we’re doing well, more so I don’t really cost the university that much money and there are undergraduates willing to do unpaid research.”

“What are you researching?” Ukai asked.

“Algae!” Takeda smiled, turning to the other man. “We take samples from the sea as well as ones growing in the different tanks and isolate certain strains. Then we take those strains and create colonies in order to determine how growth is impacted by different conditions. Mostly it’s to measure how pollutants in the ocean change the rate of growth.”

“That’s interesting,” Ukai said.

Saeko snorted. “No, it’s not. Sensei, when are you gonna get tenure so you can do some interesting projects?”

Takeda smiled. “If I ever get tenure I’m still going to be studying algae, you know that right?”

“No!” Saeko gasped in mock horror. “Say it isn’t so.”

“Oh yes,” Takeda nodded gravely. “Once I get that tenure funding I’ll be propagating algae colonies on petri dishes the size of dinner plates.”

“Seriously?” Suga raised an eyebrow.

Takeda smiled, “no. I’d still use the normal sized ones.”

“What is this talk of ‘if’ you get tenure,” Saeko scoffed, “obviously you’ll get it soon.”

“Really? Someone should tell my department head that.”

“I’ll call him right now,” Saeko pulled out her phone and waved it in Takeda’s face, making him laugh. “Don’t think I won’t! What’s his number?”

Takeda laughed again and waved her off, his face a little warm. The topic switched to funding for the Center, then Saeko’s work with their newest turtle, and then over to Suga and his work with the octopuses. With both Saeko and Suga at the table conversation was easy, and Takeda felt bathed in the bright circle they cast. Suga even managed to coax a laugh out of Ukai, though a very quiet one. Takeda decided that Saeko’s newest employee fell somewhere between surly and shy, but not in an altogether unpleasant way. 

One beer turned to two, turned the three, and the bar emptied and refilled around them as the beginnings of the night crowd started to make their way in. During a lull in the conversation Takeda glanced towards the clock on the wall, and was startled by the time.

“It’s after eight,” he said.

“It is?” Ukai pushed his chair back, “I’m sorry I have to leave.”

“What, why?” Saeko asked. “It’s not that late.”

“I need to feed my cat.”

“You have a cat?” Saeko’s eyebrows disappeared into her bangs.

“Yes. Well, sort of,” Ukai stood up and pushed his chair in. “The apartment I moved into was vacant because the previous renter died and left a cat, so the landlord said I could only rent it if I took care of him.”

“You have a haunted cat,” Suga said.

“He’s not haunted!” Ukai looked offended, which Takeda found endearing.

Suga waggled his eyebrows, “if you don’t feed him does he start walking on the ceiling? Does he speak in tongues if he doesn’t get food before nine?”

“it’s just a normal cat.”

Suga smiled, “then please tell him I say hello.”

“I will not,” Ukai said. Takeda laughed, and Ukai looked at him before quickly looking towards Saeko. “Thanks for the beer.”

“Sure, sure,” she waved him off, “go feed your cat.”

He nodded, then looked towards Takeda again. “Nice to meet you, Sensei.” He turned to leave.

Takeda raised a hand in farewell. “Nice to meet you, too. You know you don’t-” Ukai was already out of earshot as he finished, “-have to call me that.”

“That’s what you are, though.” Suga said. He picked up his beer and drained the last bit.

“You two don’t have to call me that either, you know,” Takeda grumbled.

“It’s just more fun this way,” Suga explained.

“If you say so,” Takeda said. “You know I should be going too, I still have papers to grade.”

“Sensei!” Saeko exclaimed, “how could you possibly do that? You know if you leave we’ll have to go too, because cutting a party in half always ends it.”

“I thought this was just supposed to be happy hour,” Takeda said.

“Just one more,” Suga looked at Takeda with pleading eyes.

Takeda eyed his two drinking companions and felt his resolve crumble.

“Fine,” he finally said, “but Saeko better still be buying.” 

They both cheered, and Takeda couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face. The papers could wait.

Chapter Text

Ukai quickly settled into a routine at Karasuno. He arrived every day around 8:30, prepped food for the animals, distributed said food along with any medications scheduled for the day, and then started on cleaning the tanks. He cleaned the turtles’ pools first, and then moved on to the glass tanks before finishing with the stingrays. Often he would be pulled away from his routine by Saeko or Suga, who needed an extra set of hands for what they were doing. Ukai found his days passed quickly, and he felt tired but satisfied every evening when he finished work.

On the Tuesday of Ukai’s second week at Karasuno he had just begun cleaning the turtles’ pools when he was distracted by an unfamiliar car pulling into the center’s gravel driveway. He paused to look out the window and watched two people hop out of the back two doors. It was a young man and woman, maybe in their early twenties, and Ukai didn’t recognize either. A moment later a familiar figure emerged from the driver's seat, and Ukai watched Takeda Ittetsu lead the other two towards the research building. Right. On Tuesdays the undergraduates spent a few hours gathering samples and running a few tests in the lab. Ukai made a silent wish that they would stay out of his way and went back to cleaning. 

The turtle pools were clean around the time Ukai would normally break for lunch, so he brought his food into their room and watched the injured female turtle move slowly around in the water as he ate leftover curry. Ukai had taken to sitting near her pool whenever he had a free moment and trying to observe her progress. He thought her wounds looked a little better from the week before, or at least much less inflamed. She was eating more of the food he brought, so every day he had to scoop fewer chunks of uneaten fish out of the water before dropping in the new ones. He tried to give her the best looking pieces of fish, in case she was turned off by the unappealing ones. The male turtle had no such proclivities, and he always ate his food quickly. Ukai wasn’t quite sure why he felt like keeping an eye on the female turtle, but since they had both shown up at the center around the same time he felt an odd kinship with her. Privately, he considered them fellow transplants from somewhere far away, who were both feeling a little out of sorts settling into a new place. Saeko would have scolded him for getting attached, but Ukai didn’t think there was any harm in a little extra care for their most fragile patient.

By the time Ukai had finished his own lunch, the turtle had eaten all but one of her fish chunks. Ukai wiped his hands carefully before stepping closer to the pool and leaning over to look more closely. His fingers wrapped around the pool’s plastic edge, and he rubbed a thumb against its uneven texture.

“Come on mama,” Ukai urged quietly, “I know you can eat that last bite.” The turtle remained unmoved. 

He knew he was getting dangerously close to giving her a name, which was definitely a step towards becoming attached, but it didn’t feel right to call her nothing. Plus, she had gotten injured fighting her way through the currents after laying her eggs, so Ukai felt she had earned the title.

He tried another tactic. “It’s the tastiest piece,” Ukai said. “You’re leaving it in the water after I cut it up special for you. Come on, please? Just a nibble?”

The turtle’s flippers stirred, and she moved forward in the water slightly. Ukai held his breath. Slowly, the turtle’s head came forward, then cocked to one side. She seemed to regard the piece of fish, floating just a few centimeters above her, for a long moment. Then, as if it was the most natural thing, she grabbed the fish and, chewing it three times, ate it whole.

“Yes!” Ukai pumped a fist in the air. He smiled at the turtle, who had drawn her head halfway into her shell again. “I knew you could do it.”

A knock came from the door. “Ukai-san?”

“Uh, yes?” Ukai lowered his hand self-consciously. The door was pushed open to reveal Takeda, who looked uncertain. Ukai wondered how much of his one-sided conversation with the turtle had been overheard and felt embarrassment burn in his stomach.

“I’m sorry to bother you, but Saeko told me there were extra buckets in here.”

“Oh, sure,” Ukai stepped away from the turtle and towards the closet on the far wall. “They should be in here.”

As he rummaged through the contents of the closet Ukai could hear Takeda make his way further into the room. It wasn’t exactly an intrusion, but there was something about the turtle room that felt personal to Ukai. He found himself almost resentful that Takeda had stepped into it so thoughtlessly. 

“Were you talking to someone before I came in? I didn’t mean to interrupt a phone call or anything.”

“You didn’t.” Ukai pulled a stack of smaller buckets from the corner of the closet and turned to find Takeda hovering behind him. He put down the buckets and let out a sigh. It wasn’t fair of him to feel any annoyance towards the professor, he hadn’t done anything wrong. Takeda had been very nice to Ukai at the bar last week, and it certainly wasn’t his fault that all things university-related tended to leave a bit of a sour taste in Ukai’s mouth. 

Ukai decided on the truth as an olive branch, even if only he would know that’s what it was. “I was talking to the turtle.”

“Oh, which one?” Takeda asked; as if talking to turtles was a completely normal activity for a grown man to take part in.

Ukai pointed to the pool he had been standing by, “the female one.”

“How’s she doing?” Takeda made his way towards her.

“She’s in pretty bad shape,” Ukai warned.

Takeda peered into the pool, and Ukai watched his face as he took in the battered state of the turtle. He didn’t flinch or look disgusted, which Ukai was expecting, but instead just gazed down into the water, his eyes sad.

He took a shuddering breath. “Is she in pain?”

“I’m not sure,” Ukai said. He joined Takeda by the pool and looked down at the turtle as well. “She’s eating much more than she was a week ago, so that’s something.”

“That’s good,” Takeda’s knuckles were white on the edge of the pool. “That’s really good.”

Ukai felt the last bit of his annoyance with the professor melt away at his response to the turtle’s condition.

“That’s what I was talking to her about before you came in,” Ukai explained. “That she, uh, needed to eat. And she ate all of her fish for the first time so I was celebrating.”

Takeda smiled, his cheeks pushing his glasses up slightly. “That’s excellent. Definitely worthy of celebration.” 

The early afternoon sun streamed through the windows and glinted off of Takeda’s glasses, making his face almost glow. Ukai looked back to the turtle.

“Does she have a name?” Takeda asked.

“Not really,” Ukai said. He hesitated before continuing, “I’ve been calling her mama, though. Because she was injured after laying her eggs.”

“Hmm,” Takeda hummed, “it’s perfect.”

“You can’t tell Saeko,” Ukai said. “She said not to get attached.”

Takeda laughed, bell-like. “Okay, I won’t tell her you’re soft on the turtle.”

“Hey, I never said that,” Ukai turned to find the professor smiling up at him, and felt himself grinning in return. “But thank you. For not telling.”

Takeda nodded and looked back towards the turtle. He leaned forward slightly, so his face was closer to the water.

“Bye mama,” Takeda whispered, “feel better soon.” 

Ukai looked away, finding that the room suddenly felt a little small. He gazed out the window and watched out of the corner of his eye as Takeda straightened up and went to retrieve his buckets from the floor near the closet.

“Thanks for the buckets, Ukai-san,” he said, “and for introducing me to the turtle.”

“Sure thing,” Ukai said. He raised a hand to wave goodbye, and Takeda flapped one hand slightly from where it was securing his stack of buckets.

Ukai watched him leave before turning back to the turtle.

“I’m not soft on you,” he said. The turtle stirred slightly, and Ukai offered her pool a little pat before leaving to clean the other tanks in the center.

Suga’s favorite day of the week was Tuesday, because that was when the undergraduates visited. Partly it was nice to talk to people closer to his own age, and partly Saeko tended to let him do his own thing on Tuesdays since she was usually occupied with whatever Takeda had going on in the lab. But the main reason Tuesday was Suga’s favorite day knocked on the door of the storage room as he hefted two large buckets of gravel.

“Can I help?”

Suga turned with a smile. “Hello Sawamura, how nice of you to offer.”

Daichi took the fuller of the two buckets. “Where to?”

“By the big tanks,” Suga said, and motioned for Daichi to lead the way. 

Daichi Sawamura was in his fourth year of university, and his third semester as a research assistant to Takeda. He was polite, and hardworking, and in Suga’s professional opinion absolutely adorable. He was also, in all likelihood, very heterosexual. It’s not as if Suga had ever asked him directly, but after a little over a year of knowing one another he felt pretty confident in that assumption. 

If asked to describe their relationship Suga would probably say they were friends, but mostly they just existed in similar orbits. Suga was friends with Yamaguchi, who hung out with the other research assistants, so Suga also hung out with the research assistants. They were friendly, but it’s not as if he had Daichi’s number, and a year into this almost-friendship it didn’t seem likely he would ever get it. 

But Suga was fine with how things were, really. And if he walked behind Daichi when they were carrying gravel so he could stare at his ass, who was that hurting?

“Right here?” Daichi had stopped in front of the largest fish tank and Suga narrowly avoided running into him.

“Yeah, just next to the tank.”

Daichi set his bucket down where directed, and Suga settled the other one beside it.

 A movement in the octopus tank caught Suga’s eye and he walked over to look inside. The larger octopus drifted towards the smaller one, its tentacles outstretched. Suga watched them swim around each other for a moment, before they came together.

“What are they doing?” Daichi’s voice came from over his shoulder.

“I’m not quite…” Suga trailed off in sudden realization. Quickly he turned and covered Daichi’s eyes with his hands.

“Suga!” Daichi laughed in surprise, “what the hell are you doing?”

“Uh,” Suga stifled a ridiculous giggle that rose in his chest. “You can’t look, they’re having sex.”

Daichi’s eyebrows rose behind Suga’s outstretched fingers. “You mean they’re mating?”

“I absolutely do not mean that, as they are both male,” Suga said. 

Daichi stilled, and all of a sudden Suga was very aware of the other man’s warm breath against his wrists. Silence stretched between them, and for a moment Suga was afraid of what Daichi might say. 

“You have gay octopuses?” Daichi asked. He moved his head to peer around Suga’s hands, who responded by moving to block his vision again.

“Apparently,” Suga said, laughing. He felt about twelve years old.

“But why are you covering my eyes? I’m all grown up, I think I can handle a gay octopus or two.”

Suga left hands hands in place. “This is graduate level octopus fucking, so unfortunately you’ll have to wait until next year.”

Daichi was laughing too, “Suga, you’re being ridiculous.” He wrapped his hands around Suga’s wrists but didn’t try to move them. 

“I’m so sorry but I will have to insist,” Suga deadpanned. He looked back over his shoulder to find that the octopuses had drifted apart again. He moved his hands, but Daichi’s stayed wrapped around his wrists.

“Okay they’re done,” Suga said.

Daichi raised an eyebrow, “any particular reason for the censorship?”

“You mean besides it being graduate-level material?” Suga asked.

“Yeah besides that.” Daichi was smiling and not letting go of Suga’s wrists, which was making something near his sternum ache.

“We at Karasuno like to keep things rated G. I was enforcing viewer discretion.” Suga smiled and lowered his hands more, pulling them out of Daichi’s grasp. 

The other man looked down at his own hands, frowned slightly, and then stuffed them into his pockets.

“Something wrong?” Suga asked. He could feel anxiety pool in his gut. God, now he’d gone and made Daichi uncomfortable. That’ll teach him to joke around with straight guys. Fuck. Suga took a step backwards, his back almost against the octopus tank.

“Not at all.” Daichi smiled, and Suga wondered if he had imagined the troubled look on his face a moment before. 

“Thanks for helping me with the gravel.”

“Sure,” Daichi rocked back on his heels slightly, “do you need any more help?”

It felt almost unfair how nice Daichi was. 

“Don’t you have, like, schoolwork to do?” Suga asked.

Daichi shrugged, “I already took all of my samples, so I’ve got some time.”

“Oh, well I think we got some new deliveries. We could go see what they are.”

“Okay,” Daichi nodded. 

Suga started towards the loading dock, and Daichi fell into step beside him. Daichi was easy to talk to, and as they walked he told Suga about his course load that semester and asked Suga about his projects. As they reached the loading dock Daichi was laughing as Suga described the last time one of the octopuses tried to escape.

Suga grinned, “I’m telling you they only cause me problems.”

“I think I’m starting to see that,” Daichi smiled back and held open the door. 

The loading dock could be accessed both by car and by boat, and a large truck was parked in the gravel drive leading up to it. Tanaka Ryuunosuke, Saeko’s younger brother, was unloading flats of aquatic plants and large drums of propane from the back. He looked up as Suga and Daichi approached and waved.

“Hey Ryuu,” Suga called, “do you know Sawamura?” 

“Not yet,” Tanaka gave Daichi a nod. “Nice to meet you, I’m Tanaka Ryuunosuke.”

Daichi nodded back, “Sawamura Daichi, likewise.”

Suga settled on the steps leading up to the dock and patted the spot next to him for Daichi to sit. He raised an eyebrow but obediently sat down.

“What do you have for us today?” Suga asked.

“Java ferns,” Tanaka said, before giving Suga a skeptical look. “Aren’t you on the clock? Shouldn’t you be helping me or something?”

“Maybe,” Suga shrugged one shoulder, “but why do you care? Your sister doesn’t even pay you for these deliveries.”

Tanaka snorted, “shit you’re right. Carry on.”

“You’re not going to help him?” Daichi asked.

“Hm?” Suga turned to face Daichi, only to find his face much closer than he had anticipated. His throat was suddenly very dry. “I probably will. But I hate moving plant flats.”

“Why?”

Suga turned back to look at the truck. “I always get muddy.”

“Well then should I go and help him?”

“If you really want to.” Suga glanced to the side and met Daichi’s eyes, who grinned.

“Alright.” Daichi made no move to get up. 

Suga leaned back, and the worn wooden stairs dug into his spine. He tipped his head back and let his eyes shut for a moment, the sun bathing his face. The door to the loading dock creaked, and Suga cracked one eye open to look. Kiyoko stood in the doorway.

“Hi Kiyoko,” Suga called.

“Hey Suga,” she waved. “Daichi, we’re taking the last set of samples now.”

“Oh okay,” Daichi pushed himself up from the steps and looked apologetically towards Suga. “I gotta-” 

He was cut off by a crash and a muffled curse. Suga looked over to find that Tanaka, who had just come around the side of his truck, had dropped a drum of propane on his foot. He looked as if he were trying very hard to hold back a litany of curses, and his eyes were trained on Kiyoko.

“Sorry,” he breathed.

“Oh my god,” Kiyoko stepped towards him, “are you okay?”

“I’m fine, totally fine,” Tanaka picked up the propane and took a half step back, wincing slightly. “Sorry about that, but I’m fine. Don’t worry.” He visibly swallowed, and held the propane in front of him like a shield.

“Are you sure? You should sit down,” Kiyoko took another step towards him.

“No no, I’m good,” Tanaka’s voice was becoming high pitched. “Sorry to bother you. Enjoy your, uh, science.” He looked desperately towards Suga, who had to press his lips together to keep from laughing.

“Okay, if you’re sure. But you should ice that,” Kiyoko looked unconvinced. 

Tanaka nodded quickly. “Right, yeah. Absolutely. Ice is a good idea. Will do.” 

Suga turned to Daichi and arched one eyebrow, “I think that’s your cue, Sawamura.”

“Right. See you, Suga.”

“Enjoy your science,” Suga said with a wave. Daichi laughed, before quickly disguising it as a cough and following Kiyoko back inside. 

Once they were gone Suga turned to look at Tanaka, who was still holding the propane tank in front of him and gazing after Kiyoko.

“Wow,” Suga said, “that was really embarrassing to watch.”

Tanaka snapped out of his daze and turned towards Suga, scowling. “Has any ever told you that you really suck sometimes?”

“Hmm,” Suga tapped his chin with one finger, pretending to think. “No, never. I’m a very pleasant person.”

“Pleasant my ass,” Tanaka grumbled.

Suga laughed and hopped up from his seat on the steps. “Actually, I’m so pleasant I’m going to help you unload.”

“Pretty sure that’s just your job.”

Suga smiled and liberated the propane tank from Tanaka’s grip. “And I plan on doing it pleasantly.”

Tanaka rolled his eyes and grabbed a flat of plants, following Suga back into Karasuno.

Yamaguchi hadn’t expected anyone to actually say yes when Takeda had offered the other research assistants the choice to stay and help organize old data and analyze regressions. This was one of those tasks Yamaguchi felt sort of resigned to do alone, so he was surprised when the newest research assistant offered to stay and help. Yamaguchi figured Tsukishimia probably still felt bad about insulting his work, and had picked data analysis as his penance. It’s not like Yamaguchi minded, really he was grateful for the help. Tsukishima had even volunteered to do the most tedious of the data input, which seemed generous even by Yamaguchi’s standards.

About a minute after setting Tsukishima up with the printed notes and handwritten data from the past three months Yamaguchi started to think that maybe he had just volunteered because he was really good at it. Tsukishima used one hand to type in numbers, and the other to track where on a page he was reading from. Even typing in this way he barely glanced at the computer screen or the keyboard, and moved through the pages of notes more quickly than Yamaguchi knew was possible.

“Have you done a lot of data input before?” Yamaguchi asked.

“Yeah,” Tsukishima answered without looking up. “I was on an archeological dig and I was in charge of compiling all the information for dating the objects.”

“When did you switch from archeology to biology?”

“Two semesters ago.” Tsukishima moved to another page of notes.

“Wow,” Yamaguchi commented, “your work is really impressive. I would have assumed you had always studied bio.”

Tsukishima’s hands stilled and he looked at Yamaguchi, blinking behind his glasses. “Uh, thank you.” He colored slightly, which surprised Yamaguchi. He wouldn’t have expected modesty from Tsukishima, it was cute.

“Well carry on,” Yamaguchi looked meaningfully at the stack of notes under Tsukishima’s left hand. 

“Right.” Tsukishima turned to the computer screen and clicked a new cell in the spreadsheet. He settled back into his rhythm, and his fingers flew across the keyboard. 

Turning to his regression analysis, Yamaguchi began typing up a report. He worked quickly, but he still found himself glancing over his laptop every few minutes to glance at Tsukishima and observe his insane focus. And, possibly, to just take a little peek at the man himself. Yamaguchi was a big enough person to admit that Tsukishima was, to put it mildly, very attractive. He could be honest with himself and acknowledge that the new research assistant was nice to look at. On his fourth or fifth glance over his laptop to, he wasn’t ashamed to admit it, stare at Tsukishima, he found the other man already looking back. Tsukishima’s eyes widened as they met Yamaguchi’s.

Fuck. Yamaguchi had been caught. He needed something to say to make this not weird.

“Do you want to work on the analysis or are you good?” Perfect.

“I’m okay,” Tsukishima said. “Did you want to switch?”

Yamaguchi shook his head, “nope.” 

He went back to work, determined not to glance over his laptop again. An hour later he had succeeded, and had the crick in his neck to prove it. He stretched, and rolled his head back until he felt a little pop. Yamaguchi ran his hands through his hair and re-tied his ponytail, looking over the last paragraph he had written. The analysis was almost done, it just needed a conclusion, an index, and a strong proofread.

As if reading his mind Tsukishima spoke up from his spot a few feet away. “I’m pretty much done here, I just have to double check my work.”

“That’s great!” Yamaguchi glanced up to find the other man staring hard at the computer screen. “I should be done in thirty. Thanks so much for your help, this would have taken forever if it were just me.”

Tsukishima nodded but didn’t turn away from where he was checking his work. “Sure.”

Half an hour later found Yamaguchi proofreading his analysis for the second time. He changed a word in the last sentence, then changed it back and pressed save.

“Okay!” he said into the quiet office, “all done.” 

He looked up to find Tsukishima had switched from the office’s desktop to his own laptop and had his headphones on.

“Tsukishima?” Yamaguchi raised his voice slightly and the other man looked up.

“Yeah?” Tsukishima pulled his headphones off. “Sorry, what did you say?”

“We’re done. I think there’s still time to go to the center, I can drive us.”

“I thought you needed help here today.”

“I did, but we finished. You were very fast, so now we have time to join everyone else at the research center and help analyze samples.”

“Oh,” Tsukishima’s brow furrowed, “right, okay.”

“Is there something wrong?”

“No.” Tsukishima bit his lip, looking back at the desktop he had been using for data input. “We’ll be analyzing samples for this project?”

“Well, yeah,” Yamaguchi gave him a questioning look. “What else would we be analyzing them for?”

“Nothing. Let’s go.” Tsukishima snapped his laptop closed and stood up. 

He stood stiffly, and his eyes were trained somewhere near his feet. He looked worried, but for the life of him Yamaguchi couldn’t figure out why. They would just be doing routine analyses, what was worrying about that? The research team did them every week. Oh! 

“Tsukishima,” Yamaguchi chose his words carefully, “have you ever actually taken or analyzed a sample in the field before?”

“Technically… no.”

“Oh.” Well, that explained it. “I can just show you when we get there, it’s not any harder than lab work you do in any upper level class.”

Tsukishima grimaced slightly. “The upper level classes I’ve taken have been purely theoretical.”

Ah. He probably should have known that. “That’s okay,” Yamaguchi said quickly. “I can still show you at the research center, it’s not a problem.”

“Wouldn’t it make more sense for me to do the work here and then just go next week?”

“Not really…” Yamaguchi trailed off and gave Tsukishima a searching look. “Are you maybe a little nervous to do field work?”

The look Tsukishima sent Yamaguchi would have evaporated a lesser man, as it was Yamaguchi was left only slightly singed. 

He bit back a smile. “I could show you here.” 

“Yeah?” Tsukishima’s scowl melted away. 

This time Yamaguchi did smile. “Absolutely.” 

Yamaguchi led the undergraduate to the empty biology lab and pulled out the algae colonies which had been analyzed two weeks before.

“Taking the samples themselves is super easy, it’s mostly just putting water into the right containers,” Yamaguchi began, “this isn’t exactly what we’ll be doing there, but it’ll give you a good idea.”

He walked Tsukishima through mounting an algae colony without disturbing too much of the gel it was growing in. After Tsukishima had a chance to look at it under the microscope, he followed Yamaguchi’s instructions in preparing another petri dish with the gel medium in order to isolate more colonies. Finally, they ran a few reactions and Yamaguchi demonstrated how to best record the results. Unsurprisingly, Tsukishima sailed through the practice without any problems, his technique confident and precise.

Yamaguchi labeled the solutions and petri dishes Tsukishima had prepared as “practice 1” with a few pieces of masking tape, and then helped him to clean up.

“That was perfect,” Yamaguchi said. “Why were you concerned?”

Tsukishima paused in washing the beaker he was holding under the hot water, his face inscrutable.

“I’ve only taken one bio lab,” he finally said. “I wanted to get it right.”

“I understand,” Yamaguchi said. “You’re definitely prepared, though. Nothing to worry about.” He offered a smile and knocked his elbow against Tsukishima’s.

“Thanks.” Tsukishima handed Yamaguchi a clean beaker to dry. “Next week I’ll be able to actually help.”

“What do you mean? You have helped, you helped a lot.”

Tsukishima scrubbed at a used petri dish hard. “But I couldn’t do the work.”

“You can, though.” Yamaguchi put the dry beaker to the side and turned to face Tsukishima. “Today you were a huge help, and you just showed me that you’ll be able to work at the research center as well. We all need to practice sometimes, but that doesn’t mean you aren’t an important part of this team.”

“I mean I just…” Tsukishima trailed off. He rinsed the petri dish and turned off the water. Then, instead of handing it to Yamaguchi to dry he grabbed a paper towel himself and began patting it dry.

“I didn’t expect to get the job,” he finally said. “I knew applying as a third year was a long shot, but it looked better than the other options so I wanted to try. I’m not really qualified though.”

“But you got in, so you are qualified,” Yamaguchi said. 

Tsukishima gave him a skeptical look. 

“I’m serious!” Yamaguchi pressed on, “Sensei doesn’t care if you know how to do the experiments coming in, mostly because it’s easy enough to learn. He just thought that you ask good questions and have a good sense for research. I think so too, by the way. So don’t think you’re not qualified.” 

Tsukishima put the petri dish down next to the others. “You think those things?” he asked.

Yamaguchi’s face went hot. He really needed to learn when to shut up. “Yeah, I mean I read all of the applications this semester and made my recommendations.” 

“How many people was I up against? When you made your recommendation.” 

Yamaguchi looked down and chewed on his lower lip. He wanted to tell Tsukishima the truth, but also knew he probably shouldn’t. 

“Sensei told me to give him the five or six best applications.”

“So, five other people?” The corners of Tsukishima’s mouth twitched in what might have been a smile.

“Yeah, around that.”

Yamaguchi was lying. Three months before he had stacked five applications on Takeda’s desk and then handed Tsukishima’s directly to him. 

“This is who you want on the team.”

Takeda had flipped to the first page of the application and frowned. “It’s a third year. We’re only accepting people in their final year of undergrad this semester. I only want people who are preparing for graduate school.” 

“This student should be preparing for grad school,” Yamaguchi had said. “Just read the first paper he included. His application was the strongest one we got, and I think you would be remiss not to hire him.” 

“Remiss, huh?” Takeda had raised an eyebrow. “I’ll read it, but I don’t want to hire someone who isn’t serious about the program.” 

“I can’t promise he’d stick with it, but…” Yamaguchi had weighed his next words carefully, not quite sure how to express why he knew this was the right applicant to choose. 

“But what?” Takeda had prompted.

“I get the feeling the program could be really good for him. Just read the application, you should hire Tsukishima Kei.”

Chapter Text

The sun rose so early that though Takeda got into his car before 7:00 the seats already radiated warmth. He reflexively turned on the air conditioner, only to be hit in the face with a blast of hot air. Well, that was one way to wake up. The air turned cool as the engine warmed up, and by the time he was turning onto the main road the temperature in his car was starting to move away from suffocating and inch towards bearable. 

There wasn’t much traffic so early in the morning, only hazy sheets of dew steaming off the asphalt as Takeda made his way towards Karasuno. His fingers drummed nervously on the steering wheel, and he glanced at the clock on his car’s radio every minute or so. 

6:48 a.m.

He picked up his phone from the center console and, one eye on the road, found Saeko’s contact and pressed ‘call.’ His phone’s ring was loud in the quiet car, and the automated voice telling Takeda to leave a message was even louder. He hung up, and hoped she was already at work. It was a long shot, he knew, but as long as he could get those files before 8:00 he would make it to his meeting. Fifteen minutes away from the research center he called again, and again there was no answer. Maybe she was with one of the animals. 

7:12 a.m.

Takeda pulled into the driveway, gravel crunching under the wheels of his car. A car Takeda didn’t recognize was already parked, maybe Saeko had driven a rental. He approached the research building and pulled on the door, finding it locked. Shit. He knocked, and heard the sound bounce hollow through the heavy metal of the door. He waited a minute, no answer. Another knock, this time pounding with the soft side of his fist. Again no one answered. Maybe the car had been left there overnight and no one was there.

7:16 a.m.

As a last ditch effort Takeda tried the doors to the rescue, though he knew if the research center wasn’t open it was unlikely any other building would be. To his surprise the door opened smoothly, and Takeda stepped into the dark entryway and let it close behind him. The hallway leading away from him was lit by a sliver of light shining from behind the almost-closed door to the room the turtles were housed in. He approached the door on tiptoe, though he wasn’t sure where the instinct to be quiet came from. If anything, he should announce himself so he wouldn’t scare Saeko. Feeling silly for his timid approach, Takeda pushed the door open firmly and found… no one. The room was empty. 

Stepping inside, Takeda looked around more carefully. There didn’t appear to be anyone in the room but… his eyes landed on the steps leading up to the female turtle’s pool. There was a soft black object on one of the steps, it’s texture immediately out of place amidst the constructions of metal and plastic. Takeda stepped closer, and then immediately froze.

The black object was a folded sweatshirt, and Ukai’s cheek rested on the soft material as he slept. His bleached hair had escaped its usual hairband and hung loose over his face. Whenever Takeda had met Ukai before he looked troubled, or tired, or annoyed; but in sleep his expression had flattened out. He looked very young like this, with his face gone slack and his eyelashes impossibly long. 

Takeda took a half step backwards. Watching Ukai sleep felt… intimate. Too intimate. He should go back into the hallway and knock on the door. Let him wake up in privacy. Or, a cowardly voice in Takeda’s head whispered, he could leave the building and call Saeko again. She would probably be up by now. That would be easiest, really. He groped blindly for the door handle behind him, eyes on Ukai’s sleeping form. He shifted slightly, his eyebrows drawing together, and Takeda stilled again. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to talk to Ukai, it was just that Takeda was almost positive Ukai disliked him. Or something akin to dislike. 

After the second time they’d met, when he’d caught Ukai talking to the turtle, Takeda felt like the other man had begun avoiding him. Ukai was very polite, and never said anything to make Takeda feel unwelcome, but still he could tell that the younger man never stayed near him for longer than was absolutely necessary. After a lifetime of calculating the way other men moved around him, the way the wrong smile could make someone Takeda had known for years retreat from his side, he knew when he was being avoided. The most paranoid parts of him said that Ukai had seen how his eyes had gone wide when they’d met at the bar, remembered how his handshake had lasted a moment too long. Because Takeda did find Ukai attractive. But he would never have acted on that attraction. Where some people had boundaries Takeda had constructed moats.

Ukai was moving again, his face pushing against the folds of the sweatshirt under his head, shoulders turning. He was about to wake up, and Takeda was still frozen by the door. Too late to take the cowardly exit, he took a step forward instead. And another one. Four more and he was two meters from Ukai, who still hadn’t opened his eyes.

“Ukai-san,” Takeda said. 

Ukai made a noise, something like a hum, and then his eyes blinked open. He sat up, slowly.

“Sensei?” he brought the back of his hand to his mouth and rubbed at the patch of drool there, flushing slightly. 

“I’m sorry,” Takeda’s voice was a whisper. “I needed something from the office and the door was open. I thought you might be Saeko.”

Ukai clambered to his feet. “It’s fine, I’m the one who was asleep.”

“Were you here all night?”

“I went home at first, but Saeko said she wasn’t…” Ukai trailed off for a moment, his eyes filling with worry. “Shit,” he spun to look into the pool he had just been sleeping against and visibly sagged with relief.

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, she just wasn’t super responsive last night. I came back in to watch her just in case.” Ukai didn’t finish his thought, but he didn’t need to. Takeda felt his stomach clench with worry.

“Is she alright?”

“Yeah, yeah she seems okay. I was supposed to leave after four hours if she seemed stable, but she still wasn’t moving much at that point so I stayed.”

“And fell asleep?” Takeda volunteered.

Ukai nodded, the morning sunlight shining through his sleep-mussed hair, “seems like it.”

“You should go home and rest for real.”

“I’ll be fine,” Ukai stretched, and Takeda watched his shoulders shift under his thin t-shirt. 

“Did you say you needed to get into the office?” Ukai asked, turning to face Takeda again.

“Hm? Oh, yes. If you don’t mind.”

“Not at all.”

Ukai led Takeda back outside and then into the research building. He unlocked the office door with a small silver key and pushed the door inwards, gesturing for Takeda to go first. He slipped by Ukai and his shoulders curled away from the other man’s arm, outstretched as he held the door open. Safely inside, Takeda walked to Saeko’s filing cabinet and leafed through the folders in the top drawer.

“What are you looking for?” Ukai asked from the doorway.

“Notes and numbers from the past three weeks,” Takeda said. “Usually I keep the results from what we do here together and then digitize them after a month, but I have this meeting today.” He pulled the correct folders from the drawer and let it slide shut before turning around.

“Found ‘em?” Ukai asked.

“Yeah,” Takeda offered a smile, which Ukai sleepily returned. He dropped into the chair in front of Saeko’s desk and yawned, his shoulders rounding into a tired curve. 

“What time is it?” Ukai asked.

Takeda regarded the clock about Saeko’s door, “about 7:35.”

“When’s your meeting?”

“It’s at 8:15,” Takeda brandished his files, “thanks to you I’ll make it.”

“I’m glad.” Ukai slumped further in the chair and tipped his head back, letting it rest against the chairback. 

“Are you sure you won’t go home?”

“Nah,” Ukai tipped his head forward again, and rubbed his hands roughly through his hair. “I’m good.”

“You don’t look good.” The words slipped out.

Ukai glanced towards Takeda and gave a lopsided grin. “No?” 

Takeda was a liar. Ukai looked so good. So impossibly good. God.

“That was rude, my apologies,” Takeda attempted a smile. “I just mean you seem a little tired.”

“Mmm,” Ukai hummed in agreement. 

Takeda glanced towards the mini coffee pot on Saeko’s shelf, then towards the slouched figure of Ukai. He put the folders down onto the desk and grabbed the coffee pot, plugging it in. In the bottom drawer of Saeko’s desk was a tin of cheap coffee grounds and a stack of paper filters. Takeda scooped a generous amount of coffee grounds into a filter, and then placed it into the basket of the coffee maker. He pulled out the pot and stepped around the desk.

Ukai had watched the process silently, but when Takeda was level with him he spoke. “Don’t you have to leave for your meeting?”

“I’ve got a little time,” Takeda said. “Plus you saved my meeting, so it’s the least I can do.”

Takeda filled the little coffee pot in the bathroom two doors down from Saeko’s office. He checked the amount of water, his eye level with the little transparent window in the side of the plastic pot. Catching his own gaze in the bathroom mirror, Takeda studied the shadows under his eyes and the anxious set of his mouth. Was this meaningless kindness, the little pot of coffee because he knew where Saeko kept it, too much? Was he showing his hand, king of hearts and all?

He kept his eyes on his own feet as he walked back into the office, slid the coffee pot onto the warming plate, and pressed a button which made the machine sputter to life. Steam rose from the seams in the plastic as coffee dribbled through the filter. Two minutes and it was done, and he hadn’t said a word to Ukai. He could feel the other man watching him, and it made his shoulders twitch. 

He finally looked up. “I don’t have a mug.”

“That’s okay,” Ukai held out a hand, “I’ll just take the pot.”

Takeda nodded and held it out, still steaming lightly, the plastic warm to the touch. Ukai’s fingers slipped between Takeda’s, who couldn’t pull back in fear of spilling. He tried to make his fingers as still as possible, willing them to be cold and hard. But Ukai took the coffee pot without cringing away from his touch, he didn’t seem scared of Takeda’s hands.

“Thank you,” Ukai said, popping off the lid and raising the steaming pot to his mouth.

“It’s nothing.” Let it be nothing.

Ukai took a careful sip, then a longer one. “Maybe, uh, maybe Tanaka-san doesn’t have to know about me drinking from her coffee pot.”

“I imagine your impromptu slumber party is also on a need-to-know basis?”

Ukai’s mouth twitched into a smile, “I appreciate it.”

“Anytime.”

“I feel like I keep asking you to keep secrets for me,” Ukai took another sip of coffee. “The turtle, the coffee, falling asleep…” he trailed off.

Takeda laughed, “you call those secrets?”

Ukai gave Takeda a searching look, “what do you know about secrets, Sensei?”

Takeda stilled behind the desk, one hand on the folders. Careful, Ittetsu.

“Very little,” he smiled. “I’ll get out of your way. Thanks again for your help.”

“Sure.” Ukai went back to his coffee.

Takeda left the research building and let the warmth of the sun bleed the tension from his shoulders. As he turned the key in his car’s ignition he thought about Ukai’s question.

What do you know about secrets?

If Takeda had been honest he would have told Ukai that if you hide a big enough part of yourself, everything starts to feel like a secret.

Chapter Text

Sawamura Daichi considered himself a pretty patient guy. He understood working on a research team for the first time could be hard, and he knew firsthand that the workload involved in a graduate-level program could be a lot for an undergraduate. He knew these things, however this knowledge did very little to push aside the irritation he felt for the man standing in front of him.

“What do you mean, no?” he asked Tsukishima, the words hissing out between his clenched teeth.

“I mean no. I told you, I’m done with taking my samples so I’m not taking yours.” He stared down at Daichi, his expression bored. God, this guy could be such a dick.

“That’s not how this works,” Daichi grit out. “We work as a team, so if there’s work left to do it’s everyone’s responsibility to finish it.”

“Well I trust you’re responsible enough to handle it.”

Daichi could have throttled him. “It’s. A. Team. Tsukishima.”

“Tell me something,” Tsukishima cocked an eyebrow. “Is the time you spend talking to Sugawara-san part of this so-called teamwork?”

Daichi could feel his face heat up. In all fairness, he had spent a good part of the last half hour talking to Suga, and it had made him slower. The researcher had stopped by the room they were working in to change a filter in one of the fish tanks, and they had started chatting about his work. Suga was just really easy to talk to, and he was nice; unlike certain people Daichi could mention. Certain people who were staring at him with an infuriating expression as Daichi blushed and searched for a rebuttal.

He was saved from answering Tsukishima by Suga, who cut in from where he was sitting on the floor.

“It is actually,” he said. “My scintillating conversation is an integral component to the success of your project. Didn’t Sensei tell you that?”

“Really?” Tsukishima adjusted his glasses and turned to face Suga. “Did he tell you to flirt with his students too? Or is that just an added bonus?” 

Daichi choked on air, but Suga took the comment in stride.

“As a matter of fact, he did. Should I flirt with you next?” Suga leaned towards Tsukishima slightly and batted his eyelashes. “You know,” his voice was a purr, “I’ve never really liked blonds.”

Daichi laughed, and Tsukishima rolled his eyes.

“I’m still not helping you.”

“Noted,” Daichi said. 

He wanted to say something else but he was stuck on what Suga had just said. Was he actually flirting with him? Suga was sort of like this with everyone, probably more so with Kiyoko and Yamaguchi if Daichi was going to really think about it. Which he wasn’t. It was just that Daichi thought Suga was nice. He was nice and easy to talk to and Daichi was fine just helping him around the center when he could. Fine just stealing moments like this. Because it had been over a year and nothing had changed, so why would it be different now? Suga was perfectly friendly, but that was it. He was playfully flirtatious, but in a way that let Daichi know it meant nothing. Which was fine. Really. 

It was so fine that Daichi went back to taking his samples, and bit back his comment for Tsukishima, because what could he even say? That despite the fact that Tsukishima was a grade-A asshole, the real reason Daichi was mad was that Tsukishima’s comment had just served as a reminder that this was all he got? 

Daichi was startled out of his thoughts by Yamaguchi opening the door.

“Hi!” he smiled, “Absolutely no pressure, but do either of you have a moment to help me gather some stuff for my dissertation? If not no worries.”

Daichi opened his mouth to say he was still taking samples, but Tsukishima spoke before he could get a word out.

“I’m done with my samples, I can help.” 

“Great! Thank you so much.”

Daichi watched in disbelief as Tsukishima followed Yamaguchi out the door. What a dick.

“Are you kidding me?” Daichi said after the door had shut.

Suga laughed, the sound filling up the room. “He’s certainly a character.”

“Sorry he’s such an ass,” Daichi said.

“Oh, I don’t mind,” Suga smiled for a moment, then his expression clouded. “Though I, uh, about what he said-” he swallowed. “Anyway I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable or anything, I wasn’t trying to imply that you…” Suga trailed off. They made eye contact, and for a moment he saw something hesitant and afraid in Suga’s expression. 

“You didn’t,” Daichi said, “make me uncomfortable, that is.”

“Good, I’m glad.” Suga stared down at his hands.

“You don’t have anything to apologize for,” Daichi said. He wasn’t sure why Suga looked so nervous, but he figured the least he could do was try to assuage any misplaced guilt. “Tsukishima’s just a dick, honestly you handled him better than I could have.”

“Ah, thanks,” Suga smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Is he always like that?”

Daichi frowned. “Not really, now that you mention it.”

“Maybe he’s got something going on.” Suga shrugged. “Are you and Kiyoko still coming out with Tadashi and me tonight?”

“Yeah, why?” Daichi’s heart beat a little faster. He knew he only ever secured these invitations because of his friendship with Yamaguchi, but he was grateful nonetheless.

“Invite Tsukishima.”

Daichi wrinkled his nose. “Why would I spoil a perfectly nice night of drinking?”

“Well one, he’s probably better outside of a class setting. And two,” Suga smiled, a real one this time. “We can cheer him up.”

Daichi felt a smile of his own tugging at his lips. “Okay, fine. But only because now I’d feel bad if we didn’t.”

Tsukishima seemed surprisingly flattered when Daichi invited him for drinks, and hadn’t said much for the rest of the afternoon as they finished setting up the new algae solutions in the university lab.

As Daichi was leaving he turned to Tsukishima again. “Do you want me and Kiyoko to pick you up on our way?”

“Uh, yeah.” Tsukishima blinked at him a few times. “Thank you.”

“No problem, just text me your address.” Daichi waved as he left the lab.

He had started living with Kiyoko a year before, when she had asked his other housemate, Michimiya Yui, if she knew of anyone with an available room. For the most part Daichi liked living with two women. They were neat, they were good company, and both of them were very direct when something bothered them. However, sometimes Daichi wished he lived with people who were less perceptive.

“Why are you spending so much time getting ready?” Yui stood in Daichi’s doorway, watching him decide between two shirts.

Daichi pulled both to his chest. “Do you knock? Or are you trying to peep on me while I change?”

“What can I say, Sawamura, you’ve been keeping it tight,” Yui grinned. “And you should wear the grey shirt, it goes with those jeans.”

“Hm,” Daichi hummed in acknowledgement and shrugged the grey shirt over his bare shoulders. 

Yui leaned against the doorjamb and regarded Daichi. “So, why the extra effort?”

“Since when is choosing between two shirts extra effort?”

“It's an effort for you.”

“Rude,” Daichi remarked as he buttoned up his shirt.

“Just being honest,” Yui said. “Oh wait… are you dressing up for someone special?”

Daichi paused, “no.”

“You hesitated.”

“I did no such thing.”

Kiyoko appeared in the doorway next to Yui, clearly ready to leave.

“Are you almost ready?” she asked.

Daichi nodded, “yeah just one-”

“Shimizu,” Yui interrupted, “is that guy going to be there tonight?”

Kiyoko looked questioningly at Yui, who gestured towards Daichi and then waggled her eyebrows.

“Oh,” Kiyoko smiled, “yes.”

Daichi raised an eyebrow. “What guy? There’s no guy.”.

“The guy you’ve been pretending not to have feelings for,” Yui said.

“I don’t have feelings for Suga,” Daichi said.

“That’s funny, I don’t remember mentioning a name,” Yui grinned triumphantly.

Daichi felt his cheeks heat up. “Shut up.”

“Why don’t you just ask him out?” Yui asked. 

“I’m not going to ask him out because I don’t have feelings for him,” Daichi cast a plaintive look towards his other housemate. “Kiyoko, back me up here. Obviously I don’t like Suga.”

Kiyoko looked thoughtful. “Maybe a dinner date would be nice. Or coffee.”

“You too?” Daichi scowled. “Let’s go.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to come tonight?” Kiyoko turned to address Yui, who shook her head.

“Nah, I have a date with our couch and some delivery pizza.”

“How romantic,” Daichi offered.

Yui addressed Daichi, “what was that, Mister Repression?”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Ask out that guy then.”

Daichi rolled his eyes, “bye, Yui.” 

She waved as he and Kiyoko walked to his car. Daichi let Kiyoko drive, and navigated them to Tsukishima’s apartment from the passenger seat. He lived in an apartment not too far from campus, and just a mile from where Kiyoko and Daichi lived. As they pulled in front of the building Daichi texted Tsukishima to let him know.

After a few moments of waiting, Daichi turned to Kiyoko. “You know I don’t actually like Sugawara, right?”

“Do you know that?” She asked.

“What does that even mean?” Daichi asked, his voice rising. “I just don’t want you to say something tonight. Or just… I mean it wouldn’t even make sense for me to like him.”

Kiyoko gave Daichi a curious look, “make sense how?”

“Like I don’t even know if he thinks we’re friends,” Daichi mumbled. “And, like, I mean he’s just… like he’s not the kind of person you just…”

“Literally what are you talking about?” Kiyoko was looking at Daichi like he had grown another eye.

“He’s just so…” Daichi searched for the right words. “Well, he jokingly flirts with you and Yamaguchi all the time, and I just…” he trailed off.

“So you’re jealous he doesn’t jokingly flirt with you?”

“Not exactly.”

“You’re offended that he’s, what, bisexual? You know Yui and I are bisexual. Yamaguchi is bisexual.”

“Geez, Kiyoko,” Daichi gave her an alarmed look, “I don’t have anything against bisexuals. I just meant he's cool and it feels like we, you know, sort of live in different worlds.”

“So your issue is that you think he’s out of your league?”

“I don’t know!” Daichi exclaimed. 

Tsukishima chose that moment to knock on the car’s back window, and Daichi let out a sigh of relief. Kiyoko unlocked the back door and Tsukishima slid into the backseat.

“Thanks for the ride,” he said.

“Sure thing,” Daichi responded. “Do you mind if we listen to music?”

When Tsukishima shook his head no Daichi turned on the radio and turned his attention to finding a good station, which allowed him to ignore the questioning glances Kiyoko kept shooting his way.

They arrived at the bar fifteen minutes later, and when they began walking towards the door Kiyoko pulled on Daichi’s arm so Tsukishima was in the lead. 

“What?” Daichi whispered.

“I don’t care if you ask him out or not,” Kiyoko said. “But I don’t want the reason you’re not to be insecurity. You’re great, Daichi. No one is out of your league.” 

She patted his arm and followed Tsukishima before he could respond, which was lucky because Daichi’s throat suddenly felt a little tight.

When Daichi, Kiyoko, and Tsukishima entered the bar they found Suga and Yamaguchi already seated at a hightop table, a pitcher of beer in the middle. They took their seats, and Daichi found himself sandwiched between Kiyoko and Yamaguchi, with Suga almost directly across the round table. Suga grinned, but his expression dimmed as he took in Daichi’s.

“You okay?” he mouthed.

Daichi smiled back, “yeah, fine.” Suga was wearing a soft looking shirt in lavender, which made him almost glow in the artificial lighting of the bar. Daichi was suddenly glad he had picked his own outfit more carefully than he usually did.

The table settled into easy conversation. Daichi realized he shouldn’t have worried about Tsukishima joining them, as he was pretty quiet. He made the occasional comment and smiled at all the right moments, but he seemed a little disconnected. Apparently Daichi wasn’t the only one who noticed, because after grabbing a second pitcher of beer for the table Suga turned to address Tsukishima directly.

“You’re quiet tonight Tsukishima,” Suga said. “And after you had so much to say earlier today.”

One side of Tsukishima’s mouth lifted in a half smile, “sorry about that.”

“An apology? Now I’m genuinely concerned,” Suga refilled Tsukishima’s cup. “Be honest, is Tadashi bullying you? I know he can do that sometimes.”

Yamaguchi’s half-offended ‘hey!’ was cut off by a laugh from Tsukishima, “no, nothing like that,” he said. “Sorry if I’m not much fun tonight, I have this presentation on Thursday I keep thinking about.”

“Oh that sucks,” Suga sounded genuinely sympathetic, which struck Daichi as generous considering how rude Tsukishima had been earlier. “I always get so nervous talking in front of people.”

“Really?” Yamaguchi asked, “and yet you never stop talking.” Amidst laughter from the table Suga gasped and dramatically put a hand over his heart.

“I won’t lie, that one hurt Tadashi.”

“I’m sure you’ll find a way to forgive me,” Yamaguchi said.

Suga pursed his lips for a moment. “Yes I’m quite magnanimous that way. And handsome,” Suga wagged a finger in Yamaguchi’s face for emphasis. “Very very handsome.”

Daichi laughed into his beer. The alcohol was just starting to hit and he felt pleasantly light and warm. Privately, he agreed with Suga’s self-assessment, and he found himself mindlessly nodding along to the other man’s words.

Suga’s voice broke him out of his thoughts. “Did you just nod in agreement when I called myself handsome?”

Oh, fuck. “I’m trying to be supportive. I mean your friend just betrayed you.”

“Sawamura,” Suga reached a hand across the table and gripped Daichi’s wrist, his eyes huge. “You are the only one here I trust right now.”

Daichi was pretty sure he had forgotten how to breathe. “I’m honored,” he choked out. Suga laughed and removed his hand, his expression returning to normal. Daichi was not as quick to recover.

Yamaguchi was talking, “Kiyoko, didn’t you just have a bunch of grad student interviews? What did you do to not be nervous?” Wow, he was actually trying to help Tsukishima. Yamaguchi was too nice for his own good.

“I practiced a lot,” Kiyoko said, turning to Tsukishima. “And I made sure to wear outfits I felt really confident in.”

“Outfits?” Tsukishima gave her a questioning look.

“Okay, honestly?” Kiyoko colored slightly, “I wore very nice lingerie underneath my clothes for every interview. I swear it helped.”

Tsukishima’s eyebrows shot up and Suga wolf-whistled.

“You mean to tell me,” Yamaguchi’s expression was incredulous, “that you were talking to some fancy Cambridge professor while wearing, like, a corset or something?”

“Oh, well the Cambridge interview was a video interview,” Kiyoko said, “so since they just saw me from the chest up I wore garters and thigh highs for that one.”

“Oh my god,” Yamaguchi said, laughing, “I’ve never been more impressed.” Suga clapped appreciatively, and Daichi found himself laughing alongside them. He remembered Kiyoko’s grad school interviews, how nervous she had looked for them, and felt comforted that she could look back on them with humor.

“So, Tsukishima,” Kiyoko was smiling, “I would say in general finding a way to feel like you have a secret or something is a good idea. Obviously no need to don any lace, but just so you feel like you’re not giving away everything to your audience.”

“Ah,” Tsukishima nodded, “thank you. Though it’s bold of you to assume I’m not wearing something lacy tonight.” 

The entire table froze as they processed what Tsukishima had said, before everyone cracked up. Suga gave Tsukishima a cheerful slap on the back, which dislodged his glasses somewhat.

“You know what, Tsukishima,” Suga said between laughs, “I hope you’re telling the truth.”

Tsukishima deadpanned, “well I was a little nervous to come hang out with such a distinguished group of scientists.”

“Me too, Tsukishima,” Suga nodded conspiratorially, “me too.”

“And what did you wear to alleviate this stress?” Tsukishima asked. Suga smiled widely before answering.

“A cock ring.”

It was as if the table had exploded. Yamaguchi screeched, and Kiyoko clasped her hands in front of her mouth, her shoulders shaking. For his part, Daichi found his mouth a little too dry for laughter, so he opted for stunned silence and tried desperately to banish the image that Suga had just introduced. Daichi didn’t consider himself a particularly kinky person, but he would be lying if the image Suga’s words conjured wasn’t hot. Very, very hot.

“I’m honestly not sure if you’re serious,” Yamaguchi was saying, his eyes still sparkling with laughter.

Suga gave a sly smile, before it gave way to his normal one. “Kidding!” he said, “I am wearing your nice underwear though, Tadashi.” He snapped the elastic waistband against his hip, and Daichi tried not to focus on the pale strip of skin the movement revealed.

“I fucking knew it!” Yamaguchi said. He shook his head, though his smile was still intact. “I knew I left those when I crashed last month. You lied to me.”

“They’re just so soft,” Suga shrugged one shoulder, “plus it’s not like you need them.”

“Hey!” Yamaguchi blushed, “how would you know that?”

“You want to know how I know that?” Suga challenged, “it’s because you are so goddamn dense. Even if you had the chance to put these underwear to use, it would just go right over your head.”

“What, no I’m not!” Yamaguchi looked affronted. “Am I dense?” He looked around the table. Kiyoko gave an apologetic shrug, and Daichi just pressed his lips together and avoided eye contact. The alcohol had made Tsukishima bright red, and he looked down and at the table and didn’t answer.

“Guys-” Yamaguchi pleaded.

“I heard all about your poor medical student,” Suga continued. “He hung around for what, four months? And you never even noticed he was flirting with you.”

Yamaguchi rolled his eyes, “okay, no. Terushima was there for his own research.”

“His project ended after a month,” Kiyoko offered.

“But no,” Yamaguchi was floundering. It was funny, even if Daichi did feel sort of bad for the guy. “No, I swear that’s not how it happened. I would know, right? How could I not have known?” He looked helplessly around the table. 

Kiyoko gave him a sympathetic smile, “well at least you didn’t break his heart on purpose.” 

“I broke his heart?” Yamaguchi seemed close to tears. “I didn’t break his heart. I’ve never broken anyone’s heart!” 

“No?” Daichi asked, “That doesn’t sound right. We should get an unbiased opinion. Tsukishima-” 

“Yes?” Tsukishima turned to Daichi, his face now closer to a pink than the red it had been before. The kid should drink a glass of water. 

“What do you think?” Daichi asked.

“Well,” Tsukishima paused, appearing to weigh his words. “When considering the evidence, it does seem likely that you broke this young man’s heart. Hopefully it will not impact his ability to heal others in the future.” The table erupted in laughter, which Yamaguchi joined good-naturedly after a moment.

“Considering the evidence, huh?” Yamaguchi grinned, “since when do you follow the scientific method so carefully?”

Tsukishima cocked an eyebrow, “what can I say? I was given an excellent example.”

“Why thank you,” Yamaguchi said, “I’m flattered.”

Tsukishima took a sip of his drink, “I was talking about Daichi.” Once again the table shook with laughter. Daichi had to admit the kid was growing on him.

Yamaguchi rolled his eyes good-naturedly, “shut up, Tsukishima.” 

Tsukishima just smiled in response, his expression a little smug and his cheeks glowing from the beer. 

Daichi was impressed, he was pretty sure if he had been the one to tell Tsukishima to shut up it would not have been so well received. But Yamaguchi and Tsukishima did work together a lot of the time, maybe they were close. It was kind of a funny thought, someone as kind as Yamaguchi befriending someone as prickly as Tsukishima. Daichi was pulled from his slightly tipsy musings by the weight of Kiyoko’s shoulder pressing into his. Upon closer inspection she looked just shy of drunk, her cheeks pink and eyes a little glassy. She swayed slightly against his shoulder, but her voice was steady when she spoke.

“Suga,” she said. “Suga, I want you to tell me about that guy you work with.” Daichi felt more than he saw the entire table turn towards her.

“What guy?” Suga asked.

“The guy with the shaved head,” Kiyoko gestured to her own head. “Tanaka-san.”

Suga’s mouth dropped open. “You want to know about Ryuu?”

“Yeah,” Kiyoko smiled, “yeah he gave me a plant.”

“He gave you a plant?” Daichi asked. He watched Kiyoko’s expression, now convinced that her blush wasn’t completely from the alcohol. 

She nodded, “yeah I ran into him again two weeks ago and he was dropping off this weird type of algae. I told him it was pretty and he went and got me a plant from his truck. It’s been doing really well so I wanted to thank him. He keeps avoiding me though.”

“That’s where that plant came from?” Daichi asked. Two weeks ago a little fern had appeared in their kitchen window, and Daichi had just assumed one of his roommates had bought it. The fern was flourishing in their apartment, with delicate new sections already unfurling from its damp soil.

“Yeah,” Kiyoko smiled again and turned to Suga. “So why’s he avoiding me?”

“Uh,” Suga cleared his throat and shot a curious look to Daichi, who just shrugged in response. “He’s probably a little intimidated, if I had to guess.”

“Intimidated?” Kiyoko looked thoughtful.

“Yeah,” Suga was clearly amused. “He’s usually kind of a loud guy, so if he’s not like that around you maybe he’s nervous.”

Kiyoko nodded in understanding, “can you tell him thank you from me then?”

“Sure,” Suga said, “any particular reason you’re so interested?”

Kiyoko’s blush intensified. “He’s cute,” she said into her beer. 

“Cute?” Suga laughed in surprise. “I mean… I guess. I do feel like I should inform you that he’s where I get most of my weed. He doesn’t sell it, he's just good friends with someone who does.”

“Sounds perfect for you, Kiyoko,” Daichi joked. Kiyoko shot him a dirty look.

“Ryuu’s a good guy though,” Yamaguchi piped up from beside Daichi. “He’s only 21 and he practically runs the landscaping business where he works. Plus, Suga’s the one buying all the weed and we still keep him around.”

“Watch your tone, bio-boy,” Suga said. “But Tadashi’s right, he’s cool.”

“Hm,” Kiyoko nodded.

Daichi raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment further. He couldn’t really picture Kiyoko interested in someone like Tanaka Ryuunosuke, but he also didn’t feel like he was in a particularly good position to judge. It’s not as though Daichi had been making particularly impressive decisions in his own love life as of late. The thought made him glance towards Suga, who was trading halfhearted barbs with Yamaguchi, a teasing smile on his face. He caught Daichi’s stare and his smile softened slightly, his eyes warm. Daichi returned it and then looked back at the table, his cheeks feeling warm in a way that he elected to blame on the alcohol. 

Chapter Text

In retrospect, Ukai felt that he should have known things had been going too well. He had gotten lazy, gotten comfortable. The kind of comfortable which lets you be on autopilot, the kind of comfortable which lets you do things without double checking measurements or rereading instructions. The kind of comfortable which led Ukai to shove the turtle’s usual antiinflammatory medication into a piece of fish and feed it to her without double checking the dosage on the clipboard hanging on her tank. He knew how much she got every morning, he didn’t need to read it. 

He didn’t see the note until after the turtle was done eating. It was scribbled just below the dosage tracking for the night before, when one of the part-time researchers had done the evening rounds and locked everything up.

Stiff movements and signs of pain, admin. ½ dose at 10:15. Delay morning meds.

It was 8:07 a.m. It was 8:07 and Ukai had just given a highly unstable turtle 50% more antiinflammatory medication than she needed. He dropped the clipboard and was running towards Saeko’s office before it hit the floor. Nausea rose in his stomach and his feet pounded across the walkway towards the research building. Stupid. He was so stupid. 

Saeko let Ukai stay in the turtle’s room as she checked vitals, but after five minutes of pacing and constant questions she told him to go wait outside. He couldn’t blame her.

8:41 found Ukai sitting on the dock, staring blankly at the cinder block exterior of the rescue center and chain smoking. He had just ground out the glowing tip of his first cigarette and taken a long draw from his second when the back door to the center creaked open. Ukai straightened up, questions pushing themselves against his teeth, only to be met with the figure of Takeda instead of Saeko. There was a wrinkle of worry between the professor’s eyebrows, and his mouth was set in a hard, tense line. Of course the professor would be here to witness Ukai’s failure.

Takeda raised a hand in greeting, the movement almost hesitant as he made his way over. Ukai felt shame heat his body, and irritation pricked at the backs of his eyes. He set his jaw and glared as Takeda approached, the professor’s steps faltering as he met Ukai’s eyes.

“Are you alright, Ukai-san?” 

“What?” Ukai spat. What a useless question. Of course Ukai was okay, he wasn’t the one in renal failure because some useless fucking idiot didn’t bother to check a medical chart. 

Takeda flinched a little at Ukai’s tone, but still took another step forward. “You’re shaking. Are you alright?”

He was right, Ukai was shaking. His teeth were practically chattering. He took a deep draw from his cigarette, fingers unsteady against his mouth.

“Have you seen her?” Ukai asked instead of answering.

“Just for a moment. Saeko was with her, and she said you were out here.”

“So you’re what, the babysitter? To make sure I don’t kill anything else?” The words felt sharp and ugly in Ukai’s mouth, but they rolled past his lips before he could stop them and hung with his cigarette smoke in the bright morning air.

“You didn’t kill anyone,” Takeda said.

Ukai’s mouth stretched into a humorless smile. “Not yet. Only a matter of time though, don’t you think, Sensei?” 

He raked his fingers through his hair, feeling where the bleach had made it dry and brittle. Fingers still clenched at the top of his head, Ukai dropped his shoulders forward, his elbows resting just above his knees. Through his forearms Ukai watched Takeda take another step towards him. Go away go away go away.

“I don’t think that,” Takeda said. “I don’t think that at all.”

“No?” Ukai dug his fingernails into his scalp slightly. “And here I thought you were a smart guy. Some lowlife fuck-up is the recipient of what was supposed to be a very low-stakes bit of nepotism and what does he do with it? Manages to fuck that part up too. What the hell was anyone doing letting me be responsible for another life?”

“You shouldn’t talk about yourself that way,” Takeda’s voice trembled slightly.

Ukai dropped his hands back to his lap and looked up, his eyes narrowed. “Why shouldn’t I? There’s a turtle in there fighting for her life because of me. Until an hour ago she had a good chance of recovery, and I shut down her kidneys because I couldn’t bother to read a fucking chart.”

“It was an honest mistake. It could have happened to anyone-”

“But it didn’t, did it?” Ukai was breathing hard, every inhale sharp in his chest. He sucked again at the cigarette, but it didn’t help. “It happened to me,” his voice broke a little on the last word. He should have known this would happen. 

At least when he had fucked up before it didn’t have a body count. His cigarette was only halfway gone, but Ukai stubbed it out on the dock beside him. It wasn’t helping. 

Takeda was still standing in front of him, for some reason. His hands clenched by his sides, his face all soft worry and big eyes, looking far too lovely and put together to be fussing over someone like Ukai. Maybe it was just pity. Or fascination. But instead of an algae colony it was a 27-year-old college dropout who was absolutely fucking losing it because he poisoned a turtle. Yeah, he probably made quite the specimen. 

“Ukai-san,” Takeda was talking again, his voice low. “You can’t keep beating yourself up over this. These things happen. Saeko’s with the turtle right now, and she’s going to do everything she can.”

“To clean up my mess, you mean.” Ukai couldn’t make himself meet the other man’s eyes, but he watched his feet as they walked to the right of Ukai before turning and settling next to him on the dock.

“We all need people to help us sometimes.”

“No offense, Sensei, but this is not particularly compelling coming from someone like you.”

Takeda gave a small smile. “Sort of an odd point in the conversation to slip in a ‘no offense’.”

Ukai was startled into a laugh, and it felt like all the anger left his system at once. He was left feeling tired and sad, like every muscle in his body had been clenched since he had first run to find Saeko. 

“Fair point,” he responded. “I’m sorry.”

“That’s okay,” Takeda shrugged. “I know you’re just worried. I really do think she’s going to be okay, though.”

Ukai glanced sideways at Takeda. “You think so?”

“I do. Saeko didn’t seem frantic or anything when I went in there.”

“So why-” Ukai looked down, “why did you come out here? If it wasn’t to babysit me while Tanaka-san deals with a dying turtle.”

“She told me to check on you, to make sure you weren’t blaming yourself. I don’t think I did a good job though.”

Ukai bit back a smile. “You’re doing alright.”

“Do you really think all those things about yourself? The ones you said before.”

“Yeah, sometimes.” 

His stomach clenched. God, he really had just run his mouth for a minute there. Humiliation crept up Ukai’s spine and he screwed his eyes shut.

“I’m sorry,” Takeda said. 

The words surprised Ukai, and he opened his eyes and turned to make sure he hadn’t misheard. 

“Why are you sorry? You didn’t do anything.”

“I’m sorry you feel that way about yourself. I can’t know exactly what you’re going through, but…” Takeda paused for a moment, his expression unreadable. “I understand what it’s like to not feel good enough, and I wouldn’t wish it on anyone.”

Ukai’s eyebrows shot towards his hairline. “Why would you feel that way? You’re a university professor.”

Takeda laughed, a hollow sound in the still air. “It’s not a particularly glamorous job or anything.” He paused for a moment before elaborating. “I’m an adjunct, and it doesn’t seem like my department wants to give me tenure. Maybe they never will. And I don’t know if I’m just not a good enough teacher, or if it’s because they don’t want to waste that kind of money on a-” he stopped talking suddenly, his mouth a tight line.

“On a what?” Ukai asked. 

Takeda’s expression smoothed out, and he smiled apologetically. “Nothing, I misspoke. I just meant I don’t know if my research is the kind they want to support. I know academia sort of prides itself on seeming like it defines success and intelligence, but that’s not really how it works.”

“Oh,” Ukai said. He chewed on his next words. “I didn’t finish university. I don’t know if you knew that.”

“I didn’t,” Takeda said. He looked at Ukai expectantly, who took a deep breath before speaking again.

“I only lasted three semesters,” Ukai continued. “So what you said about it defining intelligence… I guess it has always looked like that to me. I’ve never really been all that good at studying.”

“I see,” Takeda nodded. “You know, as someone who has spent practically all my life in some kind of school I feel uniquely qualified to say that it’s not a perfect system. It’s not even a good system. I don’t know why we’re always lying about that.”

“But you’ve stayed for so long.”

Takeda shrugged, “it’s all I’m good at. I love to teach and I love to learn, and I do those things best at a university. But I don’t for a second believe that a university is the only place where those things can happen, or even that it’s the ideal place for them to happen. It’s just what works for me.”

“You don’t sound all that happy about working there.”

“I guess I don’t,” Takeda gave a tired smile. “I love what I do, mostly I just wish I did it for a university that wanted me.”

Ukai nodded, though he had a hard time imagining the university not wanting Takeda as a professor. Even through their few brief interactions Ukai could tell how much he cared about his work and his students. What employer wouldn’t value that?

“I’m sorry,” Takeda apologized again, coloring slightly. “I didn’t mean to get off topic and complain. My main point was that the things you said, about not being good enough, I don’t think they’re true. I don’t think this one mistake defines you and the work you do here. And what you said about not finishing college - I don’t think that means anything about what you’re capable of. You care a lot about the animals, and you’re good at what you do. Don’t be so hard on yourself.” 

Ukai glanced sideways at Takeda. The professor was looking straight ahead, and the morning sun caught on his profile and poured around the turned-up nose and dark curls. His shoulders curled forward, and his fingers gripped the worn wooden planks of the dock. 

“Thanks, Sensei.”

“You don’t have to call me that, you know.” Takeda swung his feet, fingers drumming lightly. “Saeko only does because she thinks it’s funny, and Suga has a little bit of a thing about grad school. But it’s not, like, a title or anything.”

Ukai swallowed. “Then, thank you, Takeda-san.”

“You’re welcome,” Takeda said. “Do you mind if I sit here until Saeko is finished?”

Irritation flared again beneath Ukai’s ribs, “I don’t need a babysitter-”

“I’m worried about her too.” Takeda turned and met Ukai’s glare, his eyes determined. 

“Oh.” Ukai turned and looked back towards the center. “Then yes, stay.”

“Thank you.” 

Takeda leaned back, his chin tipping up and his eyes on the sky stretching blue and cloudless above them. This movement exposed a pale expanse of throat, and Ukai let his eyes follow the soft line of it to a soft collar and loosened tie, where Ukai dropped his eyes to his own hands, hanging between his knees. 

They sat like that as the sun stretched over their shoulders and the shadow of the rescue center shortened. Every so often they spoke, voices soft and easy across the air between them, but mostly the two men settled into an easy silence. It wasn’t awkward, or heavy with the absence of conversation, but instead felt as natural as breathing. Ukai felt settled next to Takeda in a way he hadn’t since moving. The professor didn’t expect anything from him, instead he was content to just sit and act as a levee against the flood of Ukai’s worry. 

A few minutes after 9:00 Saeko appeared, and Ukai felt his body grow cold as she approached.

She stood in front of him, her hands tucked into her back pockets and elbows pointed out. “The turtle will be just fine.”

Relief punched through Ukai, and he sagged forward. “Thank you.”

“I’m going to have to talk to the researcher who gave her that dosage. I don’t like medication schedules being switched around so carelessly, it can interfere with recovery.”

“No, I was the careless one,” Ukai shook his head. “Tanaka-san I’m so sorry-”

“Stop stressing,” she interrupted, her tone leaving no room for argument. “It just as easily could have been me who made that mistake. Now pull it together and go take care of everyone else.”

“Thank you, Tanaka-san,” Ukai whispered.

Saeko nodded and turned to Takeda, “sorry about the wait, Sensei. Do you have time to run those reactions with me or do you have to head out?”

“I have about forty minutes,” Takeda said. He checked his watch, “maybe closer to thirty.”

“I can work with that,” Saeko motioned for Takeda to follow her and he dropped down from the dock, his shoes crunching on the gravel.

After a few steps he looked back over his shoulder and raised a hand to wave to Ukai. “Have a nice day, Ukai-san.”

“You too.” Ukai watched them walk away, and it wasn’t until they had rounded the corner that he finally gave voice to the words which felt pressed to the roof of his mouth.

“Thank you, Takeda-san.” 

They hung unheard in the still air.

Chapter Text

Takeda tried not to accompany the undergraduates every time they went to Karasuno. He was there often enough to work with Saeko, and he liked to let his students be independent when they could. It was his belief that students were more creative and inquisitive when they didn’t have a professor watching over their shoulder or checking their work. He trusted Yamaguchi to get the samples they needed for their work, and if anything else happened to come up while his students were at Karasuno Takeda considered it a bonus. Ideally, he only wanted to accompany his research assistants to Karasuno once a month, but it was looking like this month it might be more like two or three. 

There was nothing wrong with the work being done, but his department requested such meticulous notes on the research practices that Takeda often had no choice but to tag along to the center and write down everything they had done. After a particularly grueling three-hour meeting the week before, Takeda decided that for at least the second and third weeks in July he would need to carefully document everything he and his students did. This led him to driving all four of his research assistants in his car, the three undergraduates squished together in the back while Yamaguchi sat in the passenger seat.

As the youngest, Tsukishima had been forced to sit in the middle, which he clearly resented.

“I have the longest legs, I should be on the side,” he grumbled.

“But you’re the thinnest,” Daichi countered.

“Yeah but you have short legs,” Tsukishima said, continuing despite the noise of protest Daichi made. “Probably even shorter that Kiyoko’s, so why aren’t you in the middle?”

“I’m not short!” Daichi protested, “just because you’re built like a piece of asparagus-”

“Let’s not call anyone names,” Yamaguchi said from the passenger seat. Takeda bit back a smile at this exchange. Sometimes he forgot that despite how competent his research assistants were, they were still very young.

Daichi had leaned forward and was arguing with Yamaguchi. “How can you defend him? He called me short, that’s definitely name calling.”

“I was describing you,” Tsukishima said, his voice bored.

Kiyoko took this opportunity to chime in, “Daichi can’t sit in the middle seat because his hips and thighs are wider than yours, Tsukishima.”

“Are you calling me fat?” Daichi asked, head whipping around to address Kiyoko.

“No,” she laughed, “I’m saying that you have a nice ass-”

“Okay!” Takeda interrupted from the driver's seat, his voice artificially cheerful. “Point taken, next time we’ll take two cars.”

“Sorry Sensei,” three voices intoned from the backseat.

Takeda smiled and shook his head, turning up the radio. Under the music he could hear Tsukishima mutter to Kiyoko.

“Are you saying I don’t have a nice ass?”

“Tsukishima,” Kiyoko whispered back, “do you think you have a nice ass?”

“Enough!” Yamaguchi said from the passenger seat, prompting another series of apologies from the backseat. Takeda glanced over at Yamaguchi and, finding him holding in a laugh, tossed the graduate student a grin before bringing his eyes back to the road.

They arrived without further incident, and as soon as he had parked the undergraduates tumbled out of the backseat and made their way towards the rescue to begin taking samples. Takeda walked to the research center and tried the door, but it was locked. Strange. Maybe Saeko had been working on something that morning and hadn’t opened up yet. He walked towards the rescue to find her, but before he made it to the door a sound came from behind the building. 

He walked around towards the sound and found a large machine with a crane set up next to the dock. What Takeda had originally taken for a garage door had been rolled up to reveal the dolphin tank. He recognized a few of the part-time researchers working on the crane, and the familiar sound of Saeko’s voice drew his eyes to the pool where she was waist-deep in water and directing the crew of researchers to set up slings to hold the dolphins next to her. As she was clearly busy, Takeda took a few steps back and resolved to help take samples until she could unlock the research building. Apparently he wasn’t quick enough, as she saw him and waved him over.

“Sensei!” Saeko shouted. “Come say goodbye to the dolphins.”

Takeda walked over and stood a few feet back from the pool. “They’re ready to go back?”

“Yeah,” Saeko said, “mom’s all healed up, and the little one is looking stronger every day.”

“Wow, that’s good news.” Takeda moved closer and kneeled by the pool.

“I’ll miss ‘em,” Saeko continued, “but it’s good. I’m glad they recovered so well, I wasn’t always sure we would get here.” 

Takeda nodded but didn’t respond. He remembered when the mother dolphin had come in, injured and in premature labor. Saeko had barely slept for a week trying to keep the two alive. Then, just when it seemed like they were out of the woods the baby had gone into sepsis, leading to the most stressful 48-hours Takeda could remember. But now, months later, both mother and baby looked strong and healthy. He couldn’t imagine releasing them to the brutality and wildness of the ocean, but of course that’s where they belonged. Saeko spoke again, interrupting Takeda’s train of thought.

“Was there something you needed, Sensei? Or did you actually come to say goodbye.”

“Oh, there’s no rush,” Takeda said quickly. “I just wanted to get into the research building. But of course it can wait.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t unlock it. My keys should be somewhere… Ukai!” Saeko called across the pool. 

Takeda turned to follow the direction of her voice, and immediately wished he hadn’t. Because of the contrast between the bright summer morning and the relative darkness of the pool area Takeda hadn’t made out much of what was going on in the rest of the room, but now his eyes had adjusted and he could see Ukai stand up from where he was working and walk over. Like Saeko, Ukai was wearing a full wetsuit. A very tight wetsuit. Takeda desperately wished he had decided to take samples with the undergraduates. By this point Takeda should have been used to Ukai and what he looked like. They saw one another at least once a week, and were friendly. Well, pretty friendly. Friendly enough for Takeda to be used to his face. And body. It was just that Takeda was never sure how friendly he should be with someone like Ukai. After the incident with the turtle’s medication a few weeks before it had become easier to talk with him but… Takeda was still hesitant around him. Probably a good thing, if the wetsuit elicited this sort of reaction.

The dark material of the suit let Takeda trace Ukai’s shoulders to his broad chest, down to the dip of his waist. Though he was still crouching, Takeda didn’t let his eyes drift any lower, and instead turned back to Saeko, his mouth feeling dry.

“What’s goin’ on?” Ukai asked Saeko, then gave Takeda a slight nod. “Morning, Takeda-san.” 

Takeda gave a small wave back, but was saved from having to formulate a greeting by Saeko speaking again.

“Do you know where the keys to the research center are? They should be in my bag somewhere.”

“Yeah, I put your bag outside of that door so it wouldn’t get wet,” Ukai jerked his head to indicate the door which led to the rest of the rescue center. “You need them now?”

“Sensei does,” Saeko said.

“Oh, right,” Ukai turned to regard Takeda more fully, which the professor was not at all appreciative of. “I’ll grab them for you, just follow me.”

Takeda nodded jerkily and stood up, looking everywhere but at Ukai. He followed him past the pool and into the hallway, where the younger man crouched to search through Saeko’s bag. He grabbed the keys and stood before turning and holding them out to Takeda.

“Thank you,” Takeda said, taking the keys. Now that he was facing Ukai he found it harder to look away from the lines of his shoulders, and how the material stretched around the muscles in his arms. He looked good. Very good. Takeda clenched the keys in his hand tightly, the metal teeth biting into his palm, and forced himself to make eye contact. He kept his gaze even and willed his smile to look casual.

“Best of luck with the dolphins,” he said.

“Thanks,” Ukai replied. “Good luck with, uh, your algae?” his voice went up in a question.

Takeda laughed, “thank you, though I don’t anticipate many challenges.” He smiled before turning and walking towards the research building. 

Once he had turned a corner he picked his pace up and made his way quickly towards the research building. He told himself that he wasn’t fleeing from Ukai. He was a professional, and professionals don’t run away from hot men in wetsuits. They do, however, occasionally power walk away from them. Takeda figured this much was understandable.

The materials he needed were exactly where he expected them to be, and Takeda was able to settle into work quickly. About an hour into notetaking Yamaguchi called him to answer a few questions about sample sizes, which took about fifteen minutes to fully sort out. Another hour passed and Takeda felt pretty good about the precision of his notes. Even though the program had been extended for another two years he still felt so scrutinized by his department. A more optimistic person would have thought he was being evaluated for a promotion, but Takeda felt more like he was being hunted. One trip up, one small mistake, and his department head would strike. Even after years of fruitful research and positive student reviews Takeda felt perpetually on thin ice. So he liked to be prepared, hence the meticulously detailed notes. Once he was confident that he was prepared for the next interrogation from the department head Takeda left the office to join his research assistants. 

Only a few meters from the exit Takeda was stopped in his tracks. Ukai sat on the floor next to the propped-open door of a supply closet, contents of a first-aid kit littering the ground beside him. The part of the scene which had rendered Takeda incapable of forward motion was Ukai’s state of dress, or undress, as it were. Ukai had rolled the top of his wetsuit down to his waist and was treating a large scrape on his shoulder. Though, as Takeda observed, treating seemed to be a generous term for what Ukai was doing. He gingerly dabbed at his shoulder with antiseptic, wincing every time the wipe made even slight contact with his skin. After a few halfhearted swipes Ukai reached for a large bandage and peeled off the backing, which finally prompted Takeda to make his presence known.

“Stop!” he rushed forward and halted when he was only a few steps away. Ukai turned to him in surprise.

“Takeda-san?” he asked. “What do you mean, stop?”

Takeda swallowed thickly, and wondered if he could will himself to sink into the floor. Well, he couldn’t very well back out now, could he?

“I mean you shouldn’t put that bandage on now, you didn’t clean the wound properly.”

“I just sanitized it, though,” Ukai said. His voice had a petulant edge to it that was almost cute, but Takeda ignored that thought in favor of schooling his features into an approximation of professionalism.

“You mean what you did just before this? When I came down the steps? That was not sanitizing it.”

Ukai looked embarrassed, and his hands fidgeted around the bandage. “I wiped it.”

“Did you get that while you were in the pool with the dolphins?” Takeda asked. 

He walked two steps closer to Ukai and then stopped again. He should just leave. He should just walk out of that door and let Ukai deal with his own scrapes. He should rejoin the research assistants outside and let the bright sun burn away the image of Ukai’s collar bones, burn away the memory of the drip of water which fell from the smattering of hair on his chest and snaked down his stomach towards the trail of dark hair just visible above where Ukai’s wetsuit was folded down.

“Yeah,” Ukai was talking again. “The little one was making a lot of noise so the mom just went crazy and thrashed everywhere. I mean I get it, that’s her kid. Still hurt like a bitch, though.” Ukai’s hand flew to his mouth after he realized what he said. “Sorry! Didn’t mean to curse.”

Takeda smiled. “It’s okay, I’ve heard much worse. But if you got that while you were in the water you should really make sure to wash it well. Otherwise you can get an infection.”

“Oh, right,” Ukai put the bandage down and looked at the remaining antiseptic wipes skeptically. “Will these work?”

“I mean they’re not terrible,” Takeda said. “I could…” Oh god, he was about to make a terrible decision, wasn’t he? “I could help, if you wanted.” Yep, terrible decision.

“Yeah?” Ukai turned to him, eyes big. “That would be great, actually.”

“Sure. Grab the first aid kit and come with me.” Takeda turned on his heel and walked towards the first floor bathroom, pausing briefly to make sure Ukai was following. This was a horrible decision. A truly calamitous choice. A disastrous situation which was perfectly avoidable, if Takeda had just kept his mouth shut. They entered the bathroom, and Takeda pointed to the counter next to the sink.

“Sit there,” he said. Ukai gave him a questioning look but sat on the counter without any argument, setting the first aid kit down beside him.

Takeda wet a paper towel and held it for a moment, assessing the scrape on Ukai’s shoulder. It stretched from his deltoid to just below his clavicle, and oozed pinpricks of blood in several spaces. In the most professional way he could, Takeda spread the damp paper towel over the length of the injury. Ukai winced slightly, but didn’t withdraw from Takeda’s touch. As gently as he could, Takeda drew the paper towel across the scrape. It came away slightly pink from where Ukai was still bleeding. 

Takeda stuck his hand beneath the soap dispenser, and came away with blue antibacterial soap dripping across his fingers. 

“This might hurt a little,” Takeda said. 

Ukai raised an eyebrow but nodded. Takeda wondered for a moment how to do this in a way which would communicate, above all else, I am not trying to sleep with you . After a few agonizing seconds he concluded that in order to effectively sterilize this wound he would probably have to deal with at least a little homoeroticism. Well, he’d made it this far. He smeared the soap over Ukai’s skin and tried to ignore his slight hiss of pain.

“Sorry,” Takeda said. He lathered the soap into damp skin and did his best not to notice how warm Ukai felt under his fingers.

“It’s fine,” Ukai gritted out.

“She really got you,” Takeda remarked. He turned the sink on and cupped his hand underneath the warm stream of water before dripping it over Ukai’s shoulder, washing away the suds clinging there.

“Yeah,” Ukai said. “I think she was really afraid, apparently she hadn’t been separated from her daughter since she was born.”

Takeda nodded and began dabbing the scrape with another wet paper towel, ensuring that all of the soap was gone.

“They looked happy when they finally got into the water, though,” Ukai remarked. “Swam off together and everything.”

“Good,” Takeda said, tearing open an antiseptic wipe. “Was it hard to watch them go?”

Ukai looked thoughtful, “maybe a little. Mostly it just seems so dangerous out there. In the ocean.”

Takeda nodded, then carefully drew the wipe over the cleaned scrape. Ukai hissed, his nostrils flaring, and grabbed Takeda’s wrist to stop him.

“Warn a guy next time,” he said, his eyes bright with pain and surprise.

Takeda inhaled sharply. “Sorry.” Ukai’s hand was hot, and his eyes were closer than Takeda expected. He looked back at Ukai for several long seconds, his heart thudding so loud he was surprised it didn’t echo off of the walls of the bathroom. 

Ukai looked away first. “It’s fine, I was just surprised.”

“I’ll be done soon,” Takeda said. Ukai’s hand still grasped his wrist, and Takeda was struck by the thought that his racing pulse was probably beating against the other man’s fingertips.

“Okay,” Ukai breathed. He loosened his hand, and Takeda finished wiping the antiseptic solution over his injury. Ukai winced, but didn’t protest further.

“We should let it dry for a moment, before antibiotic ointment and a bandage,” Takeda said. 

Ukai exhaled shakily, “Right. Thank you.”

“Of course,” Takeda replied. He dropped his hands to his sides. “How’s your turtle?”

“She’s not my turtle.”

“Right, of course not,” Takeda gave Ukai a small smile, “but, how’s your turtle?”

Ukai let out a short laugh, more an exhale than anything else. “Maybe a little better. Mostly she’s stable for now, which is good.”

“That is good,” Takeda said. “Do you know when she… I mean, is there a timeline for her recovery?”

Ukai shook his head, “not really. We’ve only just been able to cut back on the pain medication, but she’s still on a lot of antibiotics.”

“Hm,” Takeda hummed in understanding.

“I’m hoping she’ll be doing much better in a month,” Ukai offered.

“Why a month?”

“Well,” Ukai colored slightly, “it sounds a little childish but her eggs are supposed to hatch in early August and I just…” he trailed off.

“You wanted her to be able to be there for them?” Takeda supplied. The blush grew on Ukai’s face, and something that felt suspiciously like affection grew in Takeda’s stomach. God, this man.

“Okay it sounds dumb when you say it out loud,” Ukai’s tone was defensive. “I know they don’t actually meet up or anything. I just liked the idea that they would, you know, be there together.” He wouldn’t meet Takeda’s eyes, which was just as well because Takeda was almost positive that the tenderness he was feeling was written all over his face.

“It doesn’t sound dumb,” he murmured. “I like the idea of her waiting for them as well. Makes it seem a little less scary.”

“Yeah,” Ukai’s eyebrows came together in concern. “I mean if she dies, they won’t even know. They’ll be so small and they won’t know their mother is gone…” he trailed off again, his eyes sad. 

Without thinking Takeda grasped Ukai’s uninjured shoulder, wanting to erase the hollow expression from his face. Ukai looked up, face open and vulnerable.

“She’ll make it,” Takeda assured him.

“How do you know?” Ukai asked. 

“I don’t,” Takeda admitted, “but I know she’s got good people in her corner, so I figure she’s got a good shot.”

Ukai smiled and searched Takeda’s face before meeting his eyes. Takeda could practically hear his own heartbeat, and he swallowed thickly as he returned Ukai’s gaze. They were close, closer than Takeda remembered being. After cleaning his scrape he was practically between Ukai’s legs, hands hanging just centimeters from his wetsuit-clad knees. Ukai’s eyes drifted down for a moment, then back to Takeda’s. His smile changed slightly, becoming more hesitant, and his eyes filled with a question Takeda couldn’t discern. 

Ukai’s eyes were so close. “Takeda-”

“Your shoulder is dry enough to apply the bandage,” Takeda interrupted. Something like fear was prying its way through his ribs, and every breath ached in a way he couldn’t account for.

“Oh,” Ukai said, his eyes dropping down to his injury. “Sure, okay.”

Takeda prepared the bandage in silence, spreading a thin layer of antibiotic ointment on the cotton pad before smoothing it over the worst of the scrape. He held the corners of the bandage to help them adhere, but tried to make sure his fingertips didn’t accidentally brush over Ukai’s skin.

“Leave this on for as long as possible,” he said, “as then reapply some ointment when you take it off.”

“Right.” Ukai seemed to hesitate for a moment before grabbing Takeda’s wrist again, the motion forcing his palm flat against the warmth of Ukai’s chest. Takeda gulped, his eyes on where his hand rested.

“Thank you, Takeda-san,” Ukai said. He released Takeda’s wrist.

“You’re welcome,” Takeda whispered, withdrawing his hand and holding it stiffly by his side. “I, uh, I should go help my students. Are you-”

“I can clean up here,” Ukai said. 

Takeda could feel the other man’s eyes on him even as his own darted towards the door.

“Okay, thanks. I’ll, uh, I’ll just…” Takeda retreated towards the door and pulled it open. Halfway through he turned back to Ukai, who was still sitting beside the sink, staring after him. “Have a nice day, Ukai-san.”

Ukai nodded, “you too.”

Takeda let the door shut behind him and walked out of the research center. The sun was overly bright after the dim light of the research center, but Takeda blinked away the discomfort as he walked as quickly as he could towards the rescue center. For some reason his hands were shaking, and he stuffed them into the pockets of his pants. Of one thing Takeda was sure: he was running away. He just wished he knew what he was running from.

Tsukishima had never been called patient. It wasn’t that he was particularly impatient, he just tended to get things done quickly. Especially things he had control over, like schoolwork. Everyone had told Tsukishima that when he started college he wouldn’t be able to keep up the same types of grades he’d gotten during high school, but in three years he hadn’t had a problem. Until now. 

Maybe the issue was that the research was technically ungraded, so there wasn’t a single right answer or right strategy for engaging with the material. Whatever it was, Tsukishima was struggling academically for the first time. The actual experiments and number crunching wasn’t a problem, it was the thought behind it. Tsukishima could isolate algae colonies and run analytics and graph results until he was blue in the face, but he couldn’t make the connections he knew he was supposed to be making. This had been highlighted the previous Friday when Yamaguchi had pointed to two trend lines and enthusiastically asked Tsukishima if he also thought that this new data was exciting, and he hadn’t had anything to say back. Yamaguchi had been nice about it, but the grad student’s explanation and kind words hadn’t been enough to cool the burning shame Tsukishima had felt in that moment. 

He wasn’t failing the program, he just wasn’t contributing. Neither Takeda-Sensei nor Yamaguchi would ever say that, but Tsukishima knew it was true. He watched Daichi and Kiyoko talk about their work and ask questions, but when it was his turn to speak he could never find anything smart to say. And he always had something smart to say. So no, he wasn’t failing. But he didn’t belong in this program.

Tsukishima almost dreaded going to the lab at this point. Almost. But it was a complicated sort of almost-dread, because if he didn’t go to the lab he wouldn’t have a reason to see Yamaguchi, and seeing Yamaguchi was the best part of his week. He was pretty sure they were friends at this point. Well, he hoped they were friends. Yamaguchi was easy to be around, he was sweet, and funny, and laughed when Tsukishima made comments that fell somewhere between sarcastic and jackass. Also sometimes Yamaguchi smiled in a way that made Tsukishima forget how to breathe, but he didn’t see why that would impact whether or not they could be friends.

Earlier that day, for example, Yamaguchi had re-tied his hair into a ponytail while listing the necessary sample sizes for that day and Tsukishima had needed to wait for him to walk a few meters away in order to ask Kiyoko to repeat what they had been. Despite this unfortunate delay in information Tsukishima had been able to take samples in the proper volumes, so he figured it wasn’t really a problem. And sure, once they were back at the lab Tsukishima had needed to recount supplies twice because in the close quarters of the work bench Yamaguchi’s forearm kept accidentally brushing against his, but that only set him back a minute or two so, again, not an issue. No, the real issue here was that he wasn’t very good at being a research assistant. 

Because he wasn’t contributing a lot academically, and also maybe a little because he wanted to be around Yamaguchi for a few extra minutes, Tsukishima volunteered to stay later and clean their lab station. Yamaguchi was double checking all of the notes from that day, Takeda-Sensei had gone back to his office to do some grading, and Tsukishima was washing every piece of equipment much more slowly and carefully than he really needed to.

Tsukishima figured he could probably wait out the program until the end of the semester and then quit after. It was only another month, he could last that long. Plus maybe after another month he and Yamaguchi would be actual friends, the kind who saw each other outside of the lab. Then he would have a reason to see him next semester. He didn’t think Yamaguchi would be mad if he quit the research project, he knew Tsukishima wasn’t good at this. They all knew he wasn’t good at this. 

Tsukishima snuck a look at Yamaguchi, his head bent over his open laptop, a stray piece of hair falling forward over his forehead. Brown eyes met Tsukishima’s and he startled slightly. He’d been caught.

“Hey, can you take a look at this for a second?” Yamaguchi asked, indicating the stack of papers next to him.

Tsukishima nodded and put the soapy beaker in his hands down, wiping his hands dry on his jeans as he walked over. He peered over Yamaguchi’s shoulder at where he was pointing, and was met with a page of messy handwriting which he immediately recognized as Daichi’s.

“Do you know what this says?” Yamaguchi asked. He pointed to a specific line on the page, which Tsukishima squinted at.

“It says ‘growth rates consistent with colony B, not D or E,’ I think.”

Yamaguchi smiled widely. “Thanks! I can never read his writing.” He typed the line carefully into the document on his computer.

“Sure,” Tsukishima said. “Was that it?”

“Oh, yeah. Sorry to bother you about something so small.”

“No!” Tsukishima cleared his throat, “I mean, I wasn’t… I’m happy to be helpful, is all.”

Yamaguchi blinked at him a few times, his expression thoughtful. “You’re always helpful, Tsukishima.”

Oh, god. He’d said something weird, hadn’t he? Tsukishima attempted a smile.

“Washing dishes, a key part of scientific discovery.” He tried to make his tone light, but the wrinkle between Yamaguchi’s eyebrows deepened.

“It is an important part,” he insisted, “but you do a lot more than that. You know that, right?”

This wasn’t going the way Tsukishima had wanted. He backed up two steps. “Yeah, for sure.”

“Tsukishima…” Yamaguchi trailed off for a moment, “is something wrong?”

“Not at all,” Tsukishima backed away a few steps more. 

Yamaguchi stood up and closed his laptop slowly. “Do you think you’re not helpful?”

Damn it. He just had to make a snide little remark. Someone else wouldn’t have noticed what he really meant, but of course Yamaguchi did. Of fucking course.

“Uh, I don’t know,” Tsukishima avoided eye contact, “I mean I’m learning a lot.”

“You’re an important part of this team.” Yamaguchi was so earnest. On anyone else it would have been irritating, but on him…

“Right, thanks,” Tsukishima was looking at the floor.

“Did Daichi say something weird? Because sometimes he can be sort of blunt, but I’m sure he didn’t mean-”

“No one had to say anything,” Tsukishima blurted. His cheeks were hot. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Tsukishima risked a glance at the other man, he looked sad. Tsukishima had done that. Fuck. Well, might as well just say it.

“I just mean I’m not that good at this. I never have anything smart… uh, I mean,” Tsukishima looked down again. “I just don’t know if I should continue next semester is all.”

“You are good at this, it’s just your first time doing it. And you haven’t been studying biology for that long. It’s not like Kiyoko and Daichi were how they are now when they started, but they got better. You will too.” Yamaguchi was moving as he talked, and Tsukishima could hear his steps coming closer.

“Right. Well, like I said I’ll have to think about-”

“You know struggling at first isn’t a bad thing,” Yamaguchi interrupted. 

“You don’t struggle,” Tsukishima mumbled, “Daichi and Kiyoko don’t struggle.”

“They’ve been doing this for over a year!” Yamaguchi’s voice was rising. “And I’ve been doing this stuff for almost six. You can’t just compare-”

“It’s embarrassing, okay?” Tsukishima’s voice cut across the room, too loud in the still lab. “I have to work so much harder and I still feel a step behind. And on top of that I look fucking stupid!”

“So what!” Yamaguchi’s voice was loud, too, and there was an edge that made Tsukishima look up. “So what, Tsukishima? So people can tell you’re working hard, what’s wrong with that? It’s not a bad thing to try hard.”

Shame bubbled in Tsukishima’s stomach, and he tasted metal and acid. 

“God, Yamaguchi, what do you care?” The words bit ugly and serrated against his tongue. He heard Yamaguchi inhale sharply. Tsukishima was afraid to look up, but when he managed to, Yamaguchi didn’t look hurt, just angry.

“What do you mean, what do I care?” He was practically yelling, his eyes bright. Tsukishima couldn’t look away. “I thought we were fucking friends. Obviously I care if you leave or not.”

Oh. That. He knew it was the wrong moment, but happiness bloomed in Tsukishima’s chest and he had to remind himself not to smile. They were friends. They were friends and Yamaguchi cared if Tsukishima left or stayed. He could kiss him. Probably shouldn’t, though.

“We are friends.” Tsukishima’s mouth was very dry.

“Good,” Yamaguchi said. “Then do you trust me?”

Completely. Unquestioningly. “Yes.”

“Then stick with this program, okay? I promise you’re good at this. I can help you whenever you need it just… just don’t quit, okay?”

Yamaguchi probably could have asked Tsukishima to commit murder at that point and gotten an affirmative answer.

“Okay.”

“Good.” Yamaguchi looked down, his face inexplicably reddening. “I should go.”

“Okay,” Tsukishima repeated. His heart was beating very fast, and he wasn’t sure he could manage more than that one word.

Yamaguchi turned on his heel and walked out the door, pausing only briefly to grab his computer and the stack of notes beside it. Tsukishima watched as he walked out of the lab, staring at the empty doorway long after Yamaguchi’s figure had disappeared from it. Then, once he was sure the other man had gone, Tsukishima went back to washing the dirty beakers and petri dishes. 

As he let the soap and water run over the glass instruments in his hands he kept replaying the moment when Yamaguchi had yelled at him. He was usually so sunny and even-keeled, and tonight was the first time he’d shown any real emotion. Tsukishima gave an involuntary shiver. If he was being honest with himself, he wouldn’t mind seeing some more emotion from Yamaguchi Tadashi.

Chapter Text

On Friday Saeko told Ukai to leave early. 

“We’re all set here for today,” she had said, “why don’t you head home.”

Ukai had checked the time. 4:24 p.m. “I don’t mind finishing up a few things.”

“Go home,” Saeko had insisted. “Go home, do something fun. Start your weekend early.”

So, Ukai had left. He had never considered himself a workaholic, or an overachiever at his job, but now that he’d moved he didn’t really have anything else to do. Weekends were just long expanses of daylight where he wandered between the three rooms of his apartment and worked intermittently at projects in each. He had finished three glossy stools for his kitchen table the week before which were waiting for cushions to come in the mail, and he was halfway through staining a television hutch for his living room. 

The bookcase he’d made two weeks after moving in was in the bedroom, but the lumber prices had been too good to resist and he’d ended up with almost enough wood for another one. He didn’t have that many books, but he did have a used television from the previous tenant which could use a hutch. So, with a few more pieces of solid oak from the lumber yard across town, Ukai had built what he considered a decent looking piece of furniture and was staining it a muted burnt-orange. The first layer had come out patchy, so now he was faced with only a bit of stain left and a whole second coat to go. Well, getting wood stain was probably as exciting as his Friday night would get. Maybe he could buy some beer while he was out.

It wasn’t, actually, strictly true that he hadn’t had another option for that evening. On his way out Suga had invited him to go get drinks. It had surprised him, because even though he and Suga were perfectly friendly, Ukai didn’t get the sense that the younger man actually liked spending time with him. They were only separated by three years, but Ukai felt a lot older than Suga. Or at least distant from him. Nevertheless, he had been flattered by the invitation. Flattered and confused.

“Are you asking me?” he’d responded to the offhand invitation. Suga had raised an eyebrow, judgement unspoken but apparent.

“Yeah. Who else?”

“I dunno,” Ukai said dumbly. 

“So do you want to come? I’m going to get wine drunk with Sensei. Saeko will probably also come.”

That had truly surprised Ukai. “You and Takeda-san get drunk together?”

“He’ll have like one glass of wine,” Suga rolled his eyes good-naturedly. “But Saeko and I will get minorly trashed and complain about our love lives. Do you want to come too?”

Ukai was surprised to find that he did sort of want to go. Though he would likely embarrass himself, as he had a relatively low tolerance for wine. But… Suga had probably just invited him to be nice. He wouldn’t really know what to say at an event like that anyway. Everyone would probably have more fun if he stayed home.

“Thanks for the invitation,” he’d said. “But I have some stuff to finish up in my apartment.”

“Oh, okay,” Suga shrugged one shoulder. “Well once you’re done with renovations you should come out with us sometime.”

“Yeah, sure thing.” 

It had been nice of Suga to invite him. Really nice. And Ukai was sure Suga would have been pleased if he’d accepted but… but wasn’t this better? Wasn’t this really what everyone had wanted?

Ukai arrived home just before 5:00 p.m. feeling a little out of sorts and not really sure why, which is when the half-stained hutch had greeted him in all its splotchy orange glory and inspired his evening plans. His other greeting had come from Sock the cat, who had made a beeline for him the moment he’d opened the door. Sock, probably named for his one white paw on an otherwise grey body, always greeted Ukai with a surprising amount of energy considering he slept for about 20 hours a day. He batted at Ukai’s feet as he took off his shoes, and wound between his legs as he walked to the kitchen. Only after a treat -- salmon-flavored -- did he settle into a corner of the couch and watch Ukai move around the apartment with his round, yellow eyes. 

Ukai changed out of his slightly-fishy clothes and wiped down his kitchen in preparation for cooking later before heading back out. When he realized Ukai was leaving again Sock let out a plaintive sound, and jumped off the couch to rub his soft head against Ukai’s shin. He dropped into a squat before the door to scratch the cat under the chin.

“I’ll be home soon,” he murmured. Sock bumped his damp nose against the back of Ukai’s fingers and gave him a dubious look. “Twenty minutes.” He slipped out the door, pushing it closed just as Sock meowed in complaint again.

The hardware store was in the middle of town, and even though it wasn’t quite 5:30 Ukai could already see the beginnings of nightlife. University students waited in lines outside of bars, and restaurants were crowded. Luckily, the hardware store was pretty empty and Ukai found the correct shade of wood stain within a few minutes. He grabbed a larger can to be safe, and then perused the brush aisle looking for anything on sale. He found two detail brushes marked down significantly and got them as well. As an afterthought Ukai also threw a pack of picture hanging hooks, as his walls were a little bare and he could imagine at some point wanting to put up a picture or two. He paid and walked back out onto the crowded sidewalks, the sky still summer-bright.

There was a liquor store with a decent beer selection half a block away from the hardware store and Ukai made his way there. Once inside he squeezed by the crowds of university students clustered by the flavored liquor and light beer and surveyed the craft beer selection. There were a few he liked, but the illustrations on the cans in one corner drew his eye. It was a local brewery with just three types of beer. The illustrations were drenched in cool tones, with thin black lines shakily outlining an approximation of the beers’ names. ‘Jellyfish Juice’ seemed alright, but Ukai was drawn to a pale ale called ‘Nutty Professor,’ which featured a bespeckled professor with wild hair, painted in shades of green. He grabbed a six pack and waded back through the sea of 20-year-olds to wait in line. Despite the packed store the line moved quickly and Ukai soon found himself deposited back out onto the sidewalk. 

As he drove back home the sky became golden and the shadows of cars stretched across the road. The sun glowed from behind his apartment complex, and Ukai followed the shade of the tall building to his ground-floor unit. 

Socks was even pushier upon this arrival, though Ukai reasoned with himself there was no way for the cat to know he had actually been gone for closer to 40 minutes instead of the 20 he had promised. He put two extra salmon treats into Sock’s dinner bowl as an apology, which seemed to mollify him somewhat. Once Sock was happily crunching away at his dinner, Ukai cracked open a can of beer, spread out a tarp under the hutch, and began brushing stain onto the wood. He’d always found this sort of work relaxing, and tonight was no different. The rhythmic swish-swish of the brush, the vibrant color of the stain, and the changing light coming through his window allowed Ukai sink into the task. All that mattered was that the stain went on even, and Ukai let that loom largest in his mind, everything else was background noise.

Two beers and half a can of burnt-orange wood stain later Ukai surveyed his work. The light outside was nearly gone, the sky azure with the last vestiges of sun still glowing around its edges. Ukai wouldn’t know if the stain was right until the next morning, but he thought it looked pretty good. The places where the brushstrokes were uneven would be mostly covered by the television, and then the doors would slide closed and you wouldn’t be able to see the mistakes at all. He smiled at the still-wet hutch. It made the room feel less empty.

His hunger made itself known with a loud rumble from his stomach, and Ukai realized he had completely forgotten dinner. He cooked slowly, cutting the vegetables carefully as he let water boil. He added the vegetables and let them steam for a minute before mixing in instant soup mix and a splash of chili sauce. Then the noodles went in for another two minutes, then low heat, a whisked egg, and he covered the pot. The egg was cooked through a minute later, and he poured the soup into a big bowl and sat down to eat. It was sort of hot outside for soup, but Ukai liked how comforting the flavors were. He was halfway through the bowl, all of the noodles gone, when his phone rang. The name Takinoue Yusuke was lighting up the screen. Odd.

Ukai answered. “Hello?”

“Keishin!” Even over the phone his voice was bright and full of energy. “How ya doing man?”

“I’m alright,” Ukai said. “What’s up? How are you?”

“I’m great, I’m great,” Takinoue paused for a moment. “Hey I know I haven’t really kept in touch well since you moved, but I’m glad to hear you’re good.”

This was surprisingly mature for Takinoue, and Ukai straightened up before answering. “Don’t worry about it. I know things were stressful. Plus I moved so fast…” he trailed off. Ukai hadn’t thought about the way he had practically fled Kyoto after Takinoue’s business had failed. He hadn’t stayed around for any of the aftermath, instead had booked it to the middle of nowhere to work at an aquatic animal rescue of all things.

“Yeah,” Takinoue’s voice had lost some of its brightness. “Yeah it was like you disappeared.”

“I know,” Ukai said. The guilt that tended to fall to the background of Ukai’s mind reared its head. He felt sick. “Yusuke, listen, if anyone should be apologizing it should be me. You lost your business and I just left. I’m sorry. Really.”

“No, no,” Takinoue’s voice crackled through the phone urgently. “No you had quit your job to do this with me and I totally… I mean it all just fell apart. I would have taken your grandfather’s job offer too. No hard feelings, I promise.”

“Okay,” Ukai breathed. Something he didn’t even know had been there loosened in his chest. “Thanks man, I’m glad to hear that.”

“No worries,” the brightness was back in his voice. “Listen, as nice as this is, it’s not actually why I called. I’m starting up the business again. I have real backers this time, a few of them actually. I’ve got suppliers and a few big restaurant clients have already signed on. I want you to come manage the supply side. What d’ya say?”

Ukai sucked in a breath. This is what they had been waiting for before, when everything had gotten too expensive and they’d had to throw in the towel. But now… now things could actually work. Ukai could be part of something that actually worked. Back in Kyoto, back where his friends were. But… but why had his stomach dropped when Takinoue had asked him to join on again? Why wasn’t he jumping at this chance?

“Congratulations,” he finally choked out. “That’s great. I’m happy for you, and thank you so much for the second chance but…” But what? What was his hang-up here? “Can I think about it?”

Takinoue was silent for a moment before answering. “Of course you can,” he said. “Of course, yeah. Take all the time you need. We launch in September, so maybe have an answer before, like, mid-August. But yeah.”

“Okay thanks,” Ukai let out a breath. “I’ll let you know. But really, congratulations man. You deserve it.”

“Thanks. I’ll let you go. But, uh, let me know.” He sounded disappointed. Ukai understood, he would be disappointed too. 

They hung up, and Ukai stared at his phone for a long minute, his unfinished soup forgotten. His appetite was gone, so he poured the leftover broth and vegetables into an old takeout container and settled them in his refrigerator. Armed with another beer Ukai settled onto his couch and stared at the drying TV hutch. 

Why didn’t he jump at the chance to go back to his old life. It was good. He had friends, a whole city at his fingertips, and now a job to return to. This little college town was nice, sure, but for how long? Hadn’t he just come here to basically lie low and save money until something more permanent had come along? And here was something more permanent, practically offering itself to him on a silver platter. Sock the cat could move with him, right? Ukai glanced sideways to the mound of fur on the couch beside him and was calmed by the rhythmic rise and fall of Sock’s side. 

His mind turned back to the job offer. Wouldn’t living in Kyoto again be better, anyway? No more college-town attractions, no more small-town sensibilities. Not that it really mattered, but dating had been easier in Kyoto. No of his friends in the city cared that he was gay, and instead of biting his tongue when his grandfather asked him when he was going to ‘settle down with a nice girl’ he could just hang up the phone. It wasn’t as if anyone he had previously dated particularly captured the imagination, or he thought some storybook romance was waiting for him in Kyoto, but things certainly had been simpler.

On the other hand, things had a certain simplicity here, too. In one direction was the town, the other the ocean. At work the animals had specific needs. He knew what needed to happen, and when. The questions and answers were straightforward. And, above all, the work felt good. The anxiety over profit margins and whether they could wait out a client’s next payment or if he would ever be able to move forward didn’t haunt him here like they did before. Most days the evening came too quickly, and he was left knowing exactly what he accomplished and excited to do it all again the next day. And the people… 

Ukai took another sip of his beer and stared down at the can, light from his lamp shining off of the colorful metal. The people here were good. They felt familiar in a way no one he’d only known for two months had any right to. Would he forget them just as quickly? Did he want to? Ukai thought of Saeko’s wry humor and commanding voice. Of Suga’s easy laugh and the way he included others like it was instinct. He thought of Takeda’s quick smile and how he’d said Ukai was good at his job. How he helped others before he ever thought of asking for anything himself. How sometimes his face went pinched and sad and Ukai didn’t know why. 

Ukai felt his face heat at the memory of how he’d acted when Takeda had offered to help clean the scrape given to him by the dolphin. He hadn’t really needed the help, but the chance to see Takeda’s worried face up close had been too good to pass up. But then he’d gone and… and what? What had he even thought was going to happen? The back of his neck had burned with embarrassment for the rest of the day and then the one after, but when Takeda had come on Thursday he hadn’t acted like anything was wrong. He had just been his usual self. Ukai wasn’t really sure what Takeda was to him, but he was certainly something. Something special. Had anything in Kyoto felt truly special?

In that moment, sitting in his tiny apartment, everything at Karasuno seemed precious to him. The animals especially. He thought of the turtle, of how she looked so much stronger now than she had in May. How she finished all her food without hesitation, and then searched her pool for more. He needed to know that she was okay. That she made it out to the ocean to go be wild again. The way the dolphins had swam when they had no more walls to constrict them - he wanted that for her. 

But the job in Kyoto was a good one. It was a job he knew he could do well, in a place where he knew he fit. 

Ukai figured he had until August to decide. By then the turtle would be better. If he could just see her go free, he’d be able to choose for himself. He was sure of it. 

******

Friday nights Yamaguchi stayed late to do Takeda-Sensei’s grading. The building was empty at that time, and the professor’s office was comfortable and easy to spread out in. Takeda himself was out with Suga and Saeko, and while Yamaguchi had received an invitation to go as well he had decided to stay in and do work instead. He liked working on Friday nights, when the hours stretched quiet and purple-soft before him. 

A little before 9:00 p.m. he locked Takeda-Sensei’s door behind him and walked towards the exit, only to be stopped by the faint light coming from under the door to lab two. One of the underclassmen must have left it on when they left for the day. He sighed and pushed it open, only to be met with a familiar blond head bowed over a microscope, face illuminated by the laptop open beside him.

“Sorry,” Tsukishima said without looking up, “this lab is being used. Three is free I think.”

“What are you still doing here?” Yamaguchi let the door swing shut behind him and Tsukishima looked up. The moment the door latched Yamaguchi knew he shouldn’t be there. His angry words from early that week still hung between them, heavy and cloying.

“Yamaguchi,” Tsukishimas’s eyes skittered to the side. “I was just running the beta reactions again. My data, uh, well I thought it could be better. I’ll clean up and lock everything before I leave.”

“You don’t have to stay late to run extra reactions.” Yamaguchi could feel his shoulders curling in on themselves. He should apologize. He needed to apologize.

“I know, I just feel like I’m not as comfortable yet… I mean-” Tsukishima fiddled with the focus on the microscope before he realized what he was doing and tucked his hands into his pockets. “I just prefer using the labs when they’re empty.”

He’s trying to listen to what I told him, Yamaguchi realized with a pang. He’s going to stay. 

“Sure, I understand,” he offered a smile. “But you should probably head home soon. Do you know what time it is?”

Tsukishima squinted at his laptop screen for a moment before swearing. “Shit. I didn’t, actually. I’ll pack up.”

“Is something wrong?” He should apologize and leave.

“The last train left like twenty minutes ago. It’s fine I’ll just call an Uber or something.”

Yamaguchi chewed on his bottom lip for a second. He was having a bad idea. “Where do you live?” A very bad idea.

“Uh,” Tsukishima paused, his laptop shoved halfway into his bag, “a little less than a mile away.”

“I can give you a ride, don’t waste your money.” A horrible idea. The worst idea Yamaguchi had ever had.

“Really?” Tsukishima’s face lit with what could almost pass as a smile. “Thanks. I’m just going to clean up, I’ll be ready in less than ten.” 

“I’m going to make sure everything else is locked up. Meet me by the front doors whenever you’re ready.” 

As he triple-checked the locks on the other labs and did a quick sweep of the supply closet Yamaguchi reasoned with himself. What he was doing was just a favor. It was a good thing, even. Driving someone home was a perfectly reasonable thing to do when they had missed the last train. They were friends. Sort of. Or at least, he had thought they were friends. Maybe hoped was the right word. Sure, Yamaguchi saw Tsukishima three times a week, but only because they were both there to do research. And yeah, they tended to work next to one another when the option presented itself, and even when they weren’t talking it felt easy and natural to be in the same space. Maybe Tsukishima did laugh at all of his jokes, even the dry ones no else ever seemed to understand. And he laughed at Tsukishima’s jokes, even the ones which were almost mean but said with just the right timing and that wry smile which made Yamaguchi hide a snicker behind his hand. But did that make them friends?

It’s not like they hung out at other times. Well, Yamaguchi supposed tonight would be the first. At least it gave him a chance to apologize. A chance to make things right. And whether or not Yamaguchi had been motivated by anything further than the impulse to be helpful was between him and his 2012 Toyota Camry. 

One last look at the supply closet and he hit the light, letting the door lock with a click.

“Are you ready?” Tsukishima’s voice came from behind Yamaguchi, making him practically jump into the air.

“Good god, Tsukishima. Warn a guy.”

“Sorry.” He looked genuinely contrite.

“That’s okay.” God this was a horrible idea, Tsukishima was so much better-looking up close. “I’m ready, let’s go.”

Since the sun had set, the inside of the car was cool, though the seats were still warm to the touch. Yamaguchi pulled out of the employee parking lot and turned right towards the main road.

“I thought only faculty and staff could park in that lot.”

“Well I haven’t been towed yet. Left?” Yamaguchi asked.

“Hm, oh yeah. Left is good.”

Yamaguchi signalled and turned, pulling onto the mostly empty main road. He glanced at Tsukishima out of the corner of his eye. He had taken his glasses off, and was rubbing the small red indents on the sides of his nose. He looked a little younger without the glasses on, which made something go warm in Yamaguchi’s chest. He found this feeling unpleasant and brought his eyes fully back to the road.

They drove in silence for a few minutes, the car moving smoothly through pools of light cast by the streetlamps. 

Tsukishima was finally the one to break the silence. “Up here you can take a right and then another left..”

“Got it.” Yamaguchi turned, then turned again. He risked another glance at Tsukishima, who was studying his hands in his lap. Well, here went nothing. “I wanted to apologize to you.” He felt more than saw Tsukishima turn towards him.

“What? Why?”

“I shouldn’t have yelled at you like I did. You should obviously make your own choices, I just…” Just what? Yamaguchi thought desperately to himself. He really should have planned this out. “I just wanted you to stay.”

“You want me to stay?”

Fuck. Now he’d gone and said it. “For the program. I think you’re good for the program and you could really learn a lot here.” 

“Oh,” Tsukishima said. 

Yamaguchi could have put his head through the steering wheel. He wanted to scream to Tsukishima to forget the program, to stay because he felt hollow right at the bottom of his ribs every time he thought about walking into that office and not finding the other man with his computer balanced on his knees, halfheartedly trading barbs with Daichi. He wanted to tell Tsukishima he could do anything he wanted as long as he let Yamaguchi drive him home at night, warm and shining and beautiful in the passenger seat.

“I just mean it was selfish. Of me. You should only stay if you want to stay.” 

“I want to stay.”

“You do?” Yamaguchi turned to look at Tsukishima, only to find him already looking back. He felt his cheeks heat and turned his gaze back to the road.

“I like it here,” Tsukishima said. “In the program.”

“Is that why you stayed late today?” Yamaguchi asked. He could tell that Tsukishima was still looking at him, and that awareness made his hands tighten on the steering wheel.

“Yeah. I mean that and saving on train fare.”

Yamaguchi laughed. “Seems like quite the sacrifice.”

“I think it was worth it,” Tsukishima said. “You know, for the program.”

“Right,” Yamaguchi breathed. It felt coded, their conversation, but for the life of him Yamaguchi couldn’t figure out the key. “You should, you know, take care of yourself though.”

“Noted. You can go right up here.”

Yamaguchi nodded and clicked his turn signal on, coming to a stop as the light changed. The dashboard was bathed in red light, and it made the air inside the car feel frozen and expectant. Yamaguchi took a deep breath and turned towards Tsukishima, even though he already knew what he would find. His gaze found Tsukishima’s and was held there. The light made the dark circles under Tsukishima’s eyes look purple, and the shadows from his lashes lengthened and spread across his cheekbones. 

They looked at one another, bathed in the red of the traffic light, for a long moment. Yamaguchi felt as though his breath was being pulled out of him, like the car was a vacuum and the carbon dioxide and nitrogen and water molecules and every thought he’d ever had about the man in the passenger seat was being tugged forcibly from his lungs and now swirled around the two of them in the cab of his old, beat-up Toyota. 

The light switched to blue and Yamaguchi faced forward, pressed the accelerator, and turned right. His breath came easier. “Which way now?”

Tsukishima’s voice was softer than it had been. “At Camellia street you can go left and then it’s just two and a half blocks.”

“Alright.”

Camelia Street was upon them quickly, and the last two and half blocks sped by with no traffic lights to slow their momentum. Yamaguchi pulled up to a row of converted houses which, from the looks of the outside, were mostly rented by college students. Bikes were locked to the front porches of each house, and beer cans spilled from every recycling can, which were flanked by flattened boxes of every size. Yamaguchi smiled, remembering his own days as an undergraduate in off-campus housing.

“Do you have roommates?” he asked.

“Yeah, just one. She’s pretty quiet though.”

“Hm,” Yamaguchi nodded, eyes on the logo in the center of his steering wheel. “I miss having roommates.”

Tsukishima snorted, but not unkindly. “I can’t wait to live alone.”

“It certainly has its upsides...” Yamaguchi trailed off, his mind on Tsukishima’s eyes under that red light. He spoke again, “Listen, Tsukishima.”

“Hm?” Tsukishima turned to Yamaguchi, who didn’t turn back. “What is it?”

“You really don’t have to stay in the program if you don’t want to. If you don’t like the research, or it just doesn’t feel right to you, Sensei can recommend you to another program.”

“You think I should leave?”

“No!” Yamaguchi winced at the volume of his outburst, but still turned to face Tsukishima. “No, I think you’re doing good work here. But if you’re staying out of some sense of duty, and not because you actually think it’s helping you as a biology student, then you shouldn’t feel obligated to stay.”

“Well I’m not particularly interested in algae,” Tsukishima admitted.

Yamaguchi’s heart sank. “Oh-”

“But I’m not staying because I feel obligated,” Tsukishima rushed on. “I mean if I want to work in a lab this one is as good as any other.”

“I don’t understand,” Yamaguchi said. “Why stay if you’re not interested?”

Tsukishima smiled and unbuckled his seatbelt. “I like the work. Thanks for the ride, Yamaguchi.”

“But the work could be on something that interests you. Tsukishima,” Yamaguchi grabbed the other man’s wrist to stop him from opening the car door. This was his fault, wasn’t it? He’d guilted Tsukishima and now he felt like he had to stay. “If you don’t like the project why stay? You could do something you enjoy.”

Tsukishima gave Yamaguchi a searching look. Inexplicably, the corners of his mouth tugged up into a smile. “I enjoy being on the project.”

He was very close, and Yamaguchi could see his own shadowy reflection in Tsukishima’s glasses. Yamaguchi hadn’t turned on the overhead light, so the indicator lights of the dashboard were all that illuminated them, and Tsukishima glowed pale in the darkness of the car’s interior. The bone in his thin wrist was prominent, and Yamaguchi could feel it and the soft hair on Tsukishima’s forearm against his clasped fingers. They had worked in close quarters before, but it hadn’t been like this, all shadows and pupils big from the nighttime. Or maybe it had been like this, or closer to this than Yamaguchi wanted to admit, and that’s what made him tighten his grip on Tsukishima’s arm instead of letting go.

“I don’t understand,” Yamaguchi said again. 

Tsukishima regarded Yamaguchi across the center console. There was something raw about his expression, something insecure that Yamaguchi hadn’t seen since the day they met. Like he was afraid of what the other man might say. He opened his mouth, then closed it. He brought the hand Yamaguchi hadn’t secured up slightly, and it floated in the space between them for a second. Then, slowly enough to be stopped, Tsukishima cupped the back of Yamaguchi’s head and brought their faces together to kiss him gently.

“I said I enjoy being on the project,” he breathed the words against Yamaguchi’s parted lips. 

Tsukishima pulled back, most likely to exit the car and brave the short walk to his apartment, but Yamaguchi would never know. He followed Tsukishima back over the center console, releasing his wrist only to grab the front of his shirt and crash their mouths back together. Tsukishima made a sound in the back of his throat, lips parting against Yamaguchi’s. He wasted no time in spilling his tongue against Tsukishima’s, too fast and too hungry for any sort of technique, but neither of them really minded. Tsukishima gave as good as he got, and brought his recently-liberated hand to join the other one at the nape of Yamaguchi’s neck, long fingers curling in the soft hair which had fallen from his loose ponytail.

For a moment Yamaguchi could think of nothing but being closer to Tsukishima, of tasting his lips and his tongue and breathing him in. But after long seconds of pressing back against the slick insistence of Tsukishima’s lips and tongue Yamaguchi rediscovered his own desires, only to find all he wanted was more. And harder. Yamaguchi bit Tsukishima’s lower lip, tugging slightly, before dragging his tongue slowly against the edge of the other man’s teeth. There was that sound again, the choked whine that came from the back of Tsukishima’s throat. Equal parts impatient and overwhelmed. Yamaguchi smiled against his mouth, kissing first the top lip, then the bottom one. 

A hand slid into Tsukishima’s hair, and Yamaguchi tugged his head back, exposing the pale expanse of his throat. Tongue hot against the pulse point he found there, Yamaguchi kissed wet and slow up the side of Tsukishima’s neck. He met his own gaze in the dark rearview mirror, and found his eyes dark and hungry. He froze, lips half a centimeter from the soft skin beneath Tsukishima’s ear. He barely recognized himself, pupils blown dark and gaze greedy. 

“Yamaguchi?” Tsukishima’s voice was ragged, and his fingers tightened at the back of Yamaguchi’s head. 

Without hesitation Yamaguchi tore his eyes away from the reflection and looked back at Tsukishima. Pink marks shone faintly up one side of his throat, and his eyes were half-lidded, lips swollen and slick. As an answer to his questioning tone Yamaguchi kissed Tsukishima again, harder this time. He pushed back, glasses pressed against his own temple, tongue insistent against Yamaguchi’s. They breathed one another in, trading two months worth of want with seeking hands and open, insatiable mouths over the center console. Yamaguchi laid one hand against the side of Tsukishima’s neck, thumb running firm against the column of his throat. 

Tsukishima shuddered and pressed closer, broad shoulders curving in to bring himself closer to Yamaguchi, still partially restrained by the seatbelt across his chest. Yamaguchi was almost grateful for the restraint of the seatbelt, because he was losing control by the second. Already he leaned as far towards Tsukishima as possible, and his insistent hands pulled him closer still. He was soft under Yamaguchi’s direction, softer than expected. Breaths shook in through his nose, and hands still wound in the soft hair at the nape of Yamaguchi’s neck. He pulled back, eyes glazed even through the lenses of his glasses, breath coming hard and fast. 

“I-” Tsukishima’s were half-formed as he tried to slow his breathing, “you, uh, I wasn’t-” 

Yamaguchi couldn’t speak at all. He panted into the space between them, shaking and hard in the driver's seat of his car, seat belt cutting into his shoulder. All he could do was stare as Tsukishima tried and failed to form words, wondering how he’d gotten so lucky as to have the most attractive man he’d ever met like this in the front seat of his car.

In a sobering moment of clarity Yamaguchi realized he had himself to thank. He had fought for a third year to join the team, he had befriended Tsukishima, he had offered him a ride home. Here was an undergraduate student who was feeling insecure in his work, whom Yamaguchi was supposed to offer support to, and instead he’d done this? Completely taken advantage of a situation he was the architect of? Yamaguchi felt sick, and it must have shown on his face because Tsukishima pulled back further, the glazed look disappearing from his eyes.

“What’s wrong?” Worry knit itself between Tsukishima’s eyebrows.

Yamaguchi pulled back completely, hands dropping to his own lap, and Tsukishima followed suit. 

“I’m sorry,” he choked out. 

Tsukishima breathed in sharply. “What did I do wrong?”

“Nothing!” Yamaguchi could have sworn someone was reaching into his chest and squeezing his heart. How could he have done this? “You didn’t do anything wrong. It’s me - I’m so sorry I shouldn’t have-”

Now it was Tsukishima’s time to say it: “I don’t understand.”

“I was the reason Sensei picked a third-year this semester.” The hand around Yamaguchi’s heart squeezed tighter. “I thought your application was the most impressive, so I convinced him to bend the rules.”

Tsukishima just looked more confused. “Thank… you? Why does that-”

“Don’t you get it?” Yamaguchi barrelled ahead, certain if he didn’t keep talking he would start crying. God he was really a terrible person. “I orchestrated this entire situation. I got you into the program, and then I got close to you, and here I am taking advantage of a situation I created! I did this!”

“But it’s not like you knew me when you told Sensei to accept my application,” Tsukishima argued.

“But-” Yamaguchi paused. Tsukishima was right, he hadn’t known him at that point. Still, guilt swirled in Yamaguchi’s stomach. He shouldn’t have taken advantage. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be here. I can’t do this.”

Tsukishima’s eyes narrowed in anger, but his lips trembled. “Fine,” he spat, “thanks for the ride.” He pushed open the door and climbed out, muttering something that sounded a lot like ‘dumbest fucking excuse I’ve ever heard’ before he shut the door behind him. 

Yamaguchi reached out one hand to stop him, then paused. It was unfair to stop him now. No matter how much he might have wanted Tsukishima to stay, might have wanted to kiss him in the front seat of his car, and on the couch in his apartment, spread over the blue sheets of his queen-sized bed, he couldn’t. That wasn’t something he could want. He watched Tsukishima walk up to his apartment, his shoulders tucked in and movements stiff, and felt something go cold and heavy in his stomach. Once he was inside, Yamaguchi turned back, and was grateful to find the street empty of any witnesses. Not that he deserved this moment of good fortune, but Tsukishima certainly did. 

Yamaguchi bent forward and banged his forehead against his steering wheel once. Twice.

“Fuck.”

He turned the key in the ignition and pulled away from the curb, accelerating into the night. 

Chapter Text

If he had been one drink closer to sober Suga would have said no. He would have said hell no. But Tooru poured his drinks strong, and when they ran out of vodka he turned to Suga and asked if he wanted to drop by a party his friend was having. It had sounded like a good idea at the time.

“You have to lend me something to wear, though,” Suga said. It had been a few years since his last college party, but he was pretty sure a threadbare band shirt for a group which wasn’t even cool when they were on the radio wouldn’t cut it. 

Tooru had nodded and returned with two options: one tight and black and the other soft and striped. As he was already wearing black pants Suga grabbed the striped option, finding that once he’d tucked it into his jeans it slouched in just the right way. Tooru’s clothes were always just right, the fucker. For his part Tooru pulled the black shirt on, and it hugged him so perfectly Suga found himself scowling.

“I need uglier friends,” Suga complained. Tooru just laughed and grabbed his keys.

“Let’s go!”

The party was in full swing by the time they got there, which was good because Suga immediately felt ancient. Even though Tooru had assured him it was going to be mostly upperclassmen, everyone still looked like a teenager to Suga. The host had greeted Tooru with a shout of welcome before introducing himself as Kuroo Tetsurou and, pressing cold beers into their hands, insisted they make themselves comfortable. 

Suga had always felt at home in the rhythm and energy of a party, but here among these college students he was a step behind. He and Tooru ended up sipping their beers on the stairs, surveying the party and chatting amongst themselves. Sixty percent into their drinks Tooru had turned to Suga just in time to catch how his smile slipped from his face.

“Do you want to leave?” Tooru pitched his voice over the din of the party.

Suga shook his head, “no, we can stay. I just feel old.”

“You only sound old,” Tooru replied. “Maybe we should have made Yamaguchi come, he could have translated for you.”

“Rude!” Suga grinned and sipped his beer. “He said he has editing to do tonight, but I think he just wanted to stay in.” Yamaguchi had been a little off lately, but Suga figured with finals so close it made sense.

Tooru nodded in understanding, “well if it makes you feel any better, you’re only two years older than most of these people.”

“I know, I know,” Suga laughed. “It’s not the age, it just feels different. Like everyone is so carefree and I, you know, have utility bills.”

“I pay for utilities too, you snob,” Tooru laughed. “What happened to Mr. Refreshing? The guy who gets us into clubs for free?”

“Okay I’m pretty sure it’s you who gets us in,” Suga said. “And it’s just the college party, I dunno it feels odd.”

“Well I for one refuse to be dragged down by your quarter-life crisis. Let’s get another drink and then we can-” Tooru trailed off, studying the door. “Hey I know that guy.”

“Who?” Suga followed Tooru’s line of sight to the door, where a man was standing awkwardly, still holding the door partially open behind him. Even though this man was tall, he appeared to be simultaneously searching the room and trying to disappear into his surroundings. “That guy?”

“Yeah!” Tooru raised a hand and waved, “Akaashi! Akaashi, hey!”

The man, Akaashi, saw Tooru and visibly relaxed. He picked his way over to the two of them and offered a tentative smile.

“Oikawa-san, I didn’t know you would be here.” Akaashi spoke very formally, and Suga pressed his lips together to stop from laughing.

“Oh you know me, I know everyone,” Tooru flashed a smile. “But I rarely see you outside of the library. What brings you to this fine establishment? Do you know Kuroo?”

“Kuroo-san is my lab partner,” Akaashi affirmed.

“Yeah?” Tooru jerked his head towards where Kuroo stood by the keg. “He’s over there if you were looking for him.”

“I wasn’t,” Akaashi said. 

Suga raised an eyebrow. This guy was kind of weird. Not in a bad way, though. And Tooru seemed to actually like him, not just fake-like him, which was a vote in his favor.

Akaashi was speaking again, “Kuroo’s roommate invited me, actually. So I was looking for him. To, ah, to thank him.”

“Bokuto?” Tooru asked. 

Akaashi colored slightly and nodded. This guy was seriously shy, and Suga found himself wondering how Akaashi and Tooru could have become friends.

“I haven’t seen him yet,” Tooru said. “You should sit with us, though. This is Sugawara Koushi.”

“Just Suga is fine,” Suga extended a hand, and Akaashi shook it gravely.

“Very nice to meet you, I’m Akaashi Keiji.”

Suga laughed, “it’s a pleasure, Akaashi. Grab a drink, sit with us.”

Akaashi glanced towards the crowded bar area and stiffened slightly. “Maybe I’ll, uh, get one later.”

“Sure, sure,” Tooru patted the step below him, “sit!” 

Akaashi obediently sat down, turning sideways on the step so he could partially face Tooru and Suga. Upon closer inspection Suga had to admit the guy was absolutely stunning. Being friends with Tooru would acclimate anyone to spending time with beautiful men, but Akaashi was intense and sharp in the ways Tooru was soft, which made Suga feel a little off-center. 

Tooru carried most of the conversation, which Suga never minded. He was funny and charismatic, and anyone talking with him felt funny and charismatic too. It often struck Suga as unfortunate that Tooru had no interest in politics, as he had a knack for drawing people in. Suga knew it wore on him sometimes, acting fun and happy and alluring, but tonight he didn’t look spread thin by the performance. Tonight he was laughing easily, trading jokes with Suga and pulling small smiles from Akaashi. 

Suga learned Akaashi was studying chemical engineering, and had met Kuroo just this semester in an upper-level chemistry lab. The younger man’s shyness seemed to fall away as they talked more, and Suga found himself increasingly charmed by Akaashi’s formal way of talking. Eventually they came back to the subject of Akaashi’s attendance to tonight’s party, which he made clear several times was not typical for his Saturday nights.

“So you’re friends with Bokuto?” Tooru asked. 

Akaashi bit his lip, “I don’t know. I don’t think I’m his friend, he’s just very nice.”

“Oh?” Tooru leaned forward, “nice how?”

“He invited me to his party,” Akaashi said. He looked nervous, and Suga noticed his ears were slightly pink. “And he is always very friendly to me.”

“Kinda sounds like you two are friends,” Suga offered. 

Akaashi shook his head thoughtfully, “he’s nice to everyone. He’s on the baseball team, so I don’t think he would… Anyway, he just invited me is all.”

Oh, so that’s what he meant. Suga nodded in understanding, “we’ve all had a crush on a straight guy before.”

Akaashi made a sound of protest, “I never said-”

“Yeah you did,” Tooru interrupted. “And Koushi, who is this ‘we all’ you’re talking about?”

Suga fixed Tooru with a disbelieving look, “you’re telling me you’ve never had a crush on a straight guy? Never?”

“They weren’t straight when I was done with them,” Tooru gave an exaggerated wink.

Akaashi nodded seriously and took a sip of his vodka cranberry, “that makes sense.”

“Oh for the love of-” Suga rolled his eyes, “you talk a lot of shit for a guy who was going to spend tonight working on his senior capstone before I called.”

“Lower your voice!” Tooru hissed, casting his eyes around the room. “I do have a reputation to maintain.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Suga shot back, and Tooru stuck out his tongue in retaliation.

“Do you have feelings for a straight guy?” Akaashi asked, his attention on Suga. “Is that why you said that?”

Suga swallowed. Whoops. “No,” he lied.

“Sugawara Koushi,” Tooru’s eyes were big, “how the mighty have fallen.”

“I really don’t-”

“I know that look on your face,” Tooru countered, “spill. It’s only fair.”

“There’s really nothing to tell,” Suga insisted. He figured he was almost being honest. Because there wasn’t. Over a year of almost-friendship and nothing to show for it wasn’t news, it was just depressing.

“Yeah, okay,” Tooru snorted, “you are such a terrible liar.”

“I swear it’s nothing,” Suga insisted. There must have been something on his face that told Tooru not to push it, because he nodded and instead turned to Akaashi.

“Do you want another drink?”

“Oh, uh,” Akaashi looked down at his empty cup, stained pink at the bottom with cranberry juice. “I was actually going to leave soon. I mean it’s been really fun, I’m just getting a little tired…” he trailed off, and there was disappointment in the lines around his mouth. 

“Yeah, actually,” Tooru shot Suga an apologetic look, “I do need to do some stuff for my capstone tonight. I’m sorry I just have this meeting-”

“It’s fine,” Suga smiled, “I know what I get into when I hang with the geek squad.”

“Who do you think you’re calling-” Tooru was cut off from finishing by a yell from their right which Suga belatedly identified as coming from Kuroo.

“HOW LONG DOES IT TAKE TO GET FUCKING ICE?” he roared, though there was no malice behind the loud words. An answering yell came from the doorway, where a tall man with spiky bleached hair held a large bag of ice over one shoulder.

“EVERYONE WAS SOLD OUT!” He walked over to the bar and dropped the bag of ice on top of a cooler. Next to him, Suga saw Akaashi stiffen. He turned in time to see his face go pink, gaze dropping to his lap. So this must be…

“Akaashi!” the tall man said. His voice wasn’t quite a yell, but it still carried across the room. He practically ran over to the stairs. “You came!”

“Hello Bokuto-san,” Akaashi muttered to his lap. “Thank you for inviting me.”

“This is so great, I’m so glad you’re here!” Bokuto’s smile was wide and uncomplicated. 

Akaashi smiled back tentatively, previous shyness returning in full force. Suga personally thought Akaashi had underestimated his friendship with Bokuto, as he didn’t spare a look for either Suga or Oikawa as he grinned down at Akaashi, who was slowly growing redder.

He stuck out a hand, “come play beer pong with me.”

“I’ve never played,” Akaashi said, though he took Bokuto’s hand willingly. 

“You’ll be great!” Bokuto pulled him upright. “It’s just applied physics.”

The comment pulled a smile from Akaashi, “alright.”

“Bo,” Kuroo draped an arm over Bokuto’s shoulder. “Did you really only buy one bag of ice?”

“Nah I bought three,” Bokuto said without turning around. “But since we took Daichi’s car he told me to bring the first in while he grabbed the other two from the trunk.”

It took a moment for the words to process, but after a moment they hit Suga with what felt like a physical blow. Reasonably, Suga knew that it probably wasn’t the same Daichi. There had to be at least two at the university. But just to be safe…

Suga grabbed Tooru’s wrist. “We have to leave.”

“Huh?” Tooru turned to him, “uh, okay.”

Standing, Suga tugged Tooru behind him. “Great party, thanks so much,” he said to Kuroo and Bokuto as they squeezed past them. Kuroo nodded distractedly, while Bokuto didn’t even look away from Akaashi, to whom he was explaining the rules of beer pong.

“Bye Akaashi!” Tooru tossed over his shoulder, which got a distracted wave in response. He turned back to Suga, “what is the goddamn rush?”

“I’ll tell you later,” Suga said, dropping Tooru’s wrist. They were almost to the door, if they could just-

The door swung inwards, and though Suga knew exactly who was behind it he didn’t feel any more prepared to see him. Daichi stood in the entrance, a bag of ice balanced on each shoulder, looking way better in a backwards baseball cap than anyone had a right to. He appeared frozen, condensation from the ice bags making dark spots on his blue shirt, eyes wide.

“Suga?” he breathed. 

Suga felt Tooru’s stare boring into the side of his head. “Uh, hi. Sawamura.”

“What are you…” Daichi was smiling, his eyebrows making a little hitch of confusion. “I need to put down this ice. But don’t go anywhere.”

Suga nodded mutely and watched Daichi carry the ice to where Kuroo was waiting by the bar. After a moment he was interrupted by a poke in the ribs from Tooru.

“What the fuck was that?” Tooru hissed. “Who is that?”

“That’s, uh, Sawamura Daichi,” Suga answered. His mouth felt very dry. “He works on a research project at Karasuno sometimes.”

Tooru poked Suga again, and Suga retaliated with a smack. “Ow! You’re so violent. That was not a colleague from the fish rescue sort of greeting.”

“It’s not a fish rescue,” Suga replied distractedly. Oh god. Oh god, Daichi was here. It wasn’t as if a little voice in the corner of Suga’s mind hadn’t known this might be a possibility, hadn’t hoped for a second that maybe he would be. But confronted with the reality of being 24 years old at a party full of undergraduates, whom Daichi seemed to be particularly close to, made Suga want to run away. He eyed the door, he could just slip out… a blue cotton shirt entered his peripheral vision; too late. 

“What are you doing here?” Daichi asked.

“Tooru invited me,” Suga said. “He’s, uh, friends with the host.”

Daichi’s gaze flicked to Tooru, and he seemed to notice him for the first time. He stuck out his hand, “Sawamura Daichi.”

Tooru raised an eyebrow, politician’s smile in place. “Oikawa Tooru. Nice to meet you.” They shook hands

“Oh, Kuroo’s mentioned you,” Daichi pulled his hand back. “It’s nice to put a face to a name.”

“Always happy to be of service,” Tooru said. “Though you shouldn’t believe anything Kuroo’s said about me.”

“He’s only said good things,” Daichi countered. 

Tooru laughed, “then you definitely shouldn’t believe him. I’d love to stay and chat, but Koushi and I were actually thinking of heading out…” he trailed off and turned to Suga, who was still seriously considering just running for the door.

“You’re leaving?” Daichi turned to Suga, his smile falling. Maybe the door wasn’t so attractive after all.

“Tooru has to work on his capstone,” Suga said lamely. He didn’t add that he didn’t know anyone else in the house full of undergraduates and thus had to leave as well, he was pretty sure that was implied.

“You don’t have to leave, though,” Tooru said quickly. “I hate to ruin a party.”

Daichi turned to Suga, smiling hopefully. Oh god. “You should stay.”

“Oh, uh, I wouldn’t want to impose…”

“Not an imposition,” Daichi insisted. “Stay.”

“Okay,” Suga managed. 

Tooru shot Suga a look, his smile calculating. “That’s great, glad I didn’t ruin your night after all.” Before Suga could protest, Tooru raised a hand in farewell, careful smile in place again. “I’m off to make love to some spreadsheets, you kids have fun!”

Suga waved in return, “use protection.” 

Tooru snorted and pulled the door closed behind him, leaving Suga alone with Daichi. The situation hit him fully. He was at a party with Daichi. He had never been alone with Daichi before, and the newness of it all thrilled up his spine.

Daichi spoke first, “what is he going to do to those spreadsheets?”

“Don’t worry,” Suga smiled, “it’s all very consensual.”

Daichi laughed, then glanced over his shoulder towards the bar. “Did you want a drink?”

“Don’t they need a moment to get cold?”

“Well yeah,” Daichi said, “but the bar’s pretty empty now.”

Suga raised an eyebrow. “Already trying to escape the crowd?”

“Maybe a little,” Daichi laughed, then seemed to think better of his admission. “Though obviously I’m glad to be at this party.”

“No it’s fine,” Suga reassured him. He thought for a moment, then pulled out a matchbox from his front pocket and removed a carefully rolled joint. It had been for him and Tooru, but Suga figured he wouldn’t mind. “Instead of braving the bar, how do you feel about some fresh air?”

Daichi grinned, crooked and adorable. “I knew I liked you.”

Suga ignored the warmth in his stomach and gestured towards the door. “After you.”

Tsukishima hadn’t really planned to go out Saturday night. He’d spent Friday night feeling sorry for himself and had every intention of a repeat performance, but Kuroo had texted him ten times in two hours, and his roommate kept giving him sort of worried glances as she moved around the apartment throughout the evening, so when 11:00 p.m. hit he decided it might not be the worst thing to go out and at least make an attempt at socializing. He wouldn’t drink, though. He always got embarrassingly emotional when he was drunk, and this really was not the time.

Kuroo and Bokuto’s place was only a twenty minute walk so Tsukishima pulled on a t-shirt marginally nicer than the one he had spent the past hour on the couch in, and began the walk over. As he walked he tried to focus on the ground in front of him, instead of how Yamaguchi had managed to find somewhere else to be during every single time the research assistants were supposed to meet. Kiyoko had mentioned something about a chapter of his dissertation being edited, but Tsukishima knew that the grad student just wanted to avoid him. Well, he supposed he couldn’t blame Yamaguchi. If some random guy had thrown himself at Tsukishima he might avoid seeing him as well. 

Tsukishima settled more deeply into a sulk and walked faster. This meant he arrived at the party after only fourteen minutes instead of twenty, but he arrived in a terrible mood. 

Despite Tsukishima’s attempt at an inconspicuous entrance, Kuroo spotted him immediately. He pulled Tsukishima into a group of people he barely recognized, clapping him on the back as they went. The two had met during Tsukishima’s freshman year in a literature class, instantly finding solidarity as the only two science majors in the class. Kuroo was loud and easygoing in ways that Tsukishima was not, but he never seemed bothered by the other man’s sarcastic nature or dry sense of humor. Not that he would ever admit it sober, but Tsukishima was grateful to have Kuroo as a friend. He helped get Tsukishima out of his own head. Tonight, especially, he was thankful for this quality of Kuroo’s. He was content to exist in this circle of people and laugh when he was supposed to, sip slowly at a soda, and let himself dissolve into the party. It was going well, too. He had almost forgotten why he had arrived at the party in such a foul mood, and was practically having fun. 

Then everything went wrong at once.

There was a crash, and the sound of shattering glass. Tsukishima turned, and as he did he felt everyone he was standing with turn as well. A guy, a kid practically, had fallen and cracked his head against the side of Kuroo and Bokuto’s coffee table. The party watched with bated breath as the kid brought his hand up to his hairline and, finding blood beginning to pool there, immediately threw up. Kuroo’s loud “oh fuck” was muffled only by Tsukishima’s internal groan. Trust a fucking freshman to ruin a perfectly good party.

Both Kuroo and Bokuto rushed to the kid’s side, and Kuroo had just passed a wad of paper napkins to the kid when the door burst open. Tsukishima’s eyebrows raised in surprise when he saw Suga and Daichi standing in the doorway. 

“Good god,” Suga said, his eyes on the bleeding kid on the floor. He moved towards where Kuroo and Bokuto were already crouched. The party hosts were clearly out of their depth, and looked grateful when Suga knelt next to them. 

“Go get a clean t-shirt and a plastic bag,” Suga said to Kuroo. He looked like he might argue for a moment before nodding and moving towards the other room. Suga pressed the napkins the kid was holding loosely more firmly against his head.

“What’s your name?” Suga asked.

“His name’s Hinata,” Bokuto answered. “He’s on the baseball team with me.”

The kid blinked up at Bokuto and Suga, clearly very drunk.

“How much did you drink, Hinata?” Suga asked.

“Uh… lot?” Hinata answered. Tsukishima narrowly avoided rolling his eyes.

“Okay,” Suga nodded. “I know this is probably kinda scary, but heads just bleed a lot. You’re gonna be fine.”

“Right,” Hinata said, his speech a little slurred. “You kinda… smell like weed.”

Suga raised an eyebrow, “how about that.” 

Tsukishima snorted, and Suga spared him a quick nod before focusing again on Hinata. Kuroo reappeared by his side with a t-shirt, a plastic bag, and a roll of paper towels.

“What now?” Kuroo looked disgusted, which surprised Tsukishima. He wouldn’t have taken him for the squeamish type.

Suga grabbed the t-shirt and helped Hinata towards the steps. “You two clean up the vomit.”

“Gross,” Kuroo wrinkled his nose but began following Suga’s instructions. Bokuto looked like he felt guiltier than Tsukishima thought was strictly necessary, and he trailed behind Kuroo, cleaning as well. 

Daichi approached where Suga was standing with Hinata, and Tsukishima could just barely hear their conversation.

“Can you drive?” Suga asked.

Daichi shook his head, “I was gonna crash here. Why do you need to drive?”

Suga glanced at Hinata, who was looking a little glassy-eyed. “I think he needs stitches. I’ll find a ride though.”

“You’re going with him?” Daichi looked annoyed. 

“Yeah,” Suga said. “I mean it’s Kuroo and Bokuto’s party and I don’t know if he knows anyone else here.”

Hinata piped up from between the two of them, “my roommate left an hour ago!”

“Right,” Suga focused again on the napkins pressed against Hinata’s forehead. “We’re gonna go upstairs for a minute, okay?”

“Suga,” Daichi put a hand on the other man’s arm. “You don’t even know these people.”

“Do you see anyone else trying to help?” Suga hissed. Tsukishima did his best to blend into the bar behind him as he eavesdropped.

“Well, no,” Daichi said. Upon closer inspection Tsukishima was pretty sure Daichi was high. Very high. Which was a new look for him. Daichi spoke again, “I just mean you weren’t the one irresponsible enough to invite a freshman to a house party.” Tsukishima privately agreed.

Suga’s eyes narrowed, his voice raised in irritation, “because I’m sure you were such an angel as a freshman, Sawamura. Go get the kid a bottle of water.” Suga tugged Hinata up the stairs without looking back.

Tsukishima felt his mouth drop open in surprise. Not that he didn’t sometimes give in to the temptation to antagonize the upperclassman, but Tsukishima was familiar enough with Daichi’s temper not to basically yell in his face. What was even more surprising than Suga’s outburst was Daichi, who blinked a few times before walking to the bar, picking up two bottles of water, and going upstairs as well. 

Clearly, he was not the only one who found the situation unprecedented. “Holy shit,” Kuroo said. “How did that guy not just die?”

Tsukishima shrugged and walked to where Kuroo and Bokuto were still cleaning. “I guess Daichi listens to him.”

“Sawamura listens to someone?” Kuroo laughed, and Bokuto joined in.

“Seriously, who is this guy?” Bokuto asked.

“He works at the research center Daichi and I go to,” Tsukishima answered. “In my expert opinion, Daichi has a little crush on him.”

“No way,” Kuroo snorted, “I think we all know who Sawamura likes.” Faced with blank stares from Bokuto and Tsukishima Kuroo clarified: “it’s me. He likes me. We all know this.”

“Bro, you guys kissed once,” Bokuto said. “During spin the bottle.” 

“Yeah but there was, you know, lingering tension on his end,” Kuroo said. 

“Was there though?” Bokuto asked. The two of them always spoke in the cadence of an inside joke, so Tsukishima wasn’t actually sure if Kuroo was being serious. However… 

“Aren’t you supposed to be straight?” Tsukishima drawled. “That’s what you keep telling us.”

“I am straight,” Kuroo said. “But I can still tell when someone’s into me.”

“Right,” Tsukishima rolled his eyes.

“We’re all just waiting for you to come out of the closet buddy,” Bokuto said, bumping Kuroo’s shoulder with his.

Kuroo scowled good-naturedly. “Tsukishima, why don’t you help us clean.”

Tsukishima laughed and shook his head, “absolutely not. I’m gonna leave, actually.”

“Oh no you’re not,” Kuroo said, “you’re staying for emotional support. Plus you and Bokuto called me closeted. Which is, you know, practically a hate crime.”

“I’m gay, dipshit,” Tsukishima said. He glanced longingly at the door, “but fine, I’ll stay.”

“Attacking one of your own, then,” Kuroo deadpanned. Tsukishima smacked him on the shoulder. 

“Guys, do you think Hinata will be okay?” Bokuto interrupted, looking uncharacteristically serious.

“You invited him, didn’t you?” Kuroo asked. Bokuto nodded sadly and sighed.

“He’ll be fine,” Tsukishima said. Bokuto looked at him with gratitude, and Tsukishima attempted a smile that probably came out more grimace than anything else.

Bokuto and Kuroo went back to cleaning the floor, and just as Tsukishima was contemplating offering his help Suga and Daichi came back downstairs, supporting a slightly less bloody Hinata.

“How ya doing?” Bokuto asked. 

Hinata smiled and gave a thumbs up with the hand which wasn’t pressing a hand towel over his head. “I’m great.”

“One of my friends is going to drive us to the hospital,” Suga volunteered. 

“Thanks,” Kuroo said, and Bokuto nodded his enthusiastic agreement.

“Thanks so much,” Bokuto said. “I wish I could drive, I just…”

“No worries,” Suga offered him a smile, “it’s a party, shit happens.”

Bokuto visibly relaxed and Tsukishima found himself begrudgingly impressed with Suga’s ability to diffuse a situation and take charge when he needed to. 

“You’re a lifesaver,” Kuroo said. The sound of the door opening drew his gaze and he did a double take. “Hey, that guy was my TA.”

Both the realization of which friend Suga had called and the regret that he didn’t leave when he had the chance hit Tsukishima simultaneously. He wanted to flee, but he found his eyes drawn to the doorway, his feet stuck to the ground. 

Yamaguchi stood just inside, eyes darting around the room. Half of his hair was pulled up in a ponytail, and he wore a too-big shirt which sported the words “Science Camp: Bio Team Leader” in cartoon-y characters. He looked, to Tsukishima’s chagrin, heartbreakingly adorable. Yamaguchi’s gaze found the group huddled around Hinata, and he visibly stiffened when he saw Tsukishima. 

Well , Tsukishima thought spitefully, let him feel weird. This is my friends’ party, he should feel like an outsider. A more honest part of Tsukishima wondered if it was normal to be heartbroken after only one kiss. 

Yamaguchi took a few halting steps towards them. “Ready to go?” he asked Suga, who nodded and shepherded Hinata towards Yamaguchi and the door.

“Hey,” Kuroo interjected, “you tried to give me an 85.” Tsukishima could have smacked him. Kuroo was not the most tactful at the best of times, but drunk Kuroo tended to err on the side of way-too-honest.

Yamaguchi practically winced. “Yeah,” he finally said, “that was me.”

“Why?” Kuroo asked. Tsukishima wanted to sink into the floorboards. 

Yamaguchi looked as uncomfortable as Tsukishima felt, and if his glanced back towards the door were any indicator he seemed to be contemplating escape. “If I remember the professor sided with your appeal to change the grade, so I don’t really think…”

“Why, though?” Kuroo asked. 

Kuroo’s fucking complex about his grades was going to be the death of Tsukishima. It didn’t help that Bokuto had chosen solidarity over social graces, and was standing behind Kuroo with his arms crossed over his chest, nodding in support. Tsukishima could have clobbered them both.

“Well…” Yamaguchi chewed on his bottom lip, eyeing where Suga and Hinata stood directly to his left. “Honestly I felt like it reflected the effort you were putting in. You were a second semester third year doing work that might get someone who had never taken an orgo class before a 100, but you clearly had so I didn’t think you had earned it.”

Kuroo’s mouth dropped open, and Bokuto’s childish “OOOH” echoed through the room. Tsukishima found that, if anything, his heart hurt even more than it had before.

“Alright,” Suga interrupted. “Time to go.” He pushed an unsteady Hinata towards the door.

Yamaguchi turned to follow, eyes meeting Tsukishima’s for a moment as he did so. He paused, expression unreadable, and raised one hand in both greeting and farewell before trailing Suga out the door. After a moment Daichi followed, tossing a hasty goodbye over his shoulder. The door closed behind the four of them and the sounds of the party trickled back into Tsukishima’s consciousness. Perhaps unsurprisingly, it had basically continued around them throughout the entire crisis. 

Tsukishima turned to Kuroo, who still looked slightly shell shocked. Tsukishima knew how he felt. “I think I’ll take that drink now.”

“Yeah,” Kuroo choked out after a moment, “me too.”

Daichi had been having an excellent night. Possibly the best night ever had by anyone. By some incomprehensible stroke of luck, he managed to find himself sitting on the patch of grass behind Bokuto and Kuroo’s place with Suga. This was not the kind of thing that happened to Sawamura Daichi. It occurred to him, as he looked at the puking freshman in Kuroo’s living room, that he should have known it was a little too good to be true. 

He hadn’t been exactly thrilled about being called on to do an ice run with Bokuto, but Daichi figured that the freedom of having a car as an undergraduate meant sometimes being asked for this sort of favor. It’s not like he’d been super anxious to get to the party, but after three convenience stores had been completely cleared out of ice Daichi began looking forward to a cold beer. Instead, he’d practically run into Suga as he walked in the door, and the other man had actually agreed to stay at the party. 

And then somehow, miraculously, he was sitting on the grass with Suga watching him spark up a joint. He inhaled, deep and steady, and Daichi watched the tip of the joint glow to life under the combined influence of Suga’s breath and the match. Suga exhaled slowly, and smoke curled around his face. He held the joint out to Daichi, eyebrow raised in a silent question.

Daichi took the joint and inhaled just a little. Earthy smoke filled his mouth and he pulled the filter away, breathing through it. He was determined not to cough in front of Suga, and he blew most of the smoke he’d taken in back out into the night. Suga smiled and took the proffered joint back.

“When’s the last time you smoked?” Suga asked before taking another drag. The tip of the joint was orange in the night air.

Daichi considered the question for a moment. “A few months,” he finally answered. “Maybe two or three?” 

“Ah,” Suga inhaled once again before passing back to Daichi. “Then you should take it slow.”

“Okay,” Daichi said obediently. He breathed in a little deeper this time, and felt more prepared for the feeling of smoke in his lungs. It spilled out from his mouth and wafted past his lips as he passed the joint to Suga, who held it between two fingers and studied Daichi.

“Do you feel okay?” he asked.

Daichi laughed. “I don’t really feel anything yet, but I’m fine. You don’t need to, I don’t know, worry or anything.”

“I’m not worried,” Suga said, “it’s just no fun to be higher than you want to be.” He took a hit, a long one this time, and then just let the smoke float upwards from his parted lips before exhaling. 

He was beautiful, veiled behind the white smoke in the clear night air, eyes warm and fixed on Daichi in a way that made his heart beat faster despite the weed. After a moment his mouth made an O-shape and he blew out a smoke ring.

Daichi laughed. “That’s a good party trick.”

“Thanks,” Suga smiled and passed the joint. “It took sort of an embarrassing amount of practice to figure out.”

“I feel like you’re not supposed to tell people that,” Daichi said. He took a drag, and then after a moment took another one before passing the joint back to Suga, who laughed.

“Maybe not,” he said. “But I figure you’ll keep it a secret.”

Daichi nodded and drew an ‘X’ over his heart with one finger. Suga looked down, rolling the joint between his thumb and forefinger.

After a moment he looked up and spoke again. “I’m done, are you?” Daichi nodded and Suga put the joint out on the side of his shoe before slipping it back into the matchbox. 

Daichi’s limbs had begun to feel heavy, and the world was moving a little slower than it had been a few minutes before. He leaned back, hands braced behind him, and watched how the moonlight carved out Suga’s features. Time was moving a little weirdly, but not in an unpleasant way. It took a while to realize Suga was looking back at him, and then another moment to remember that he had probably been staring for longer than was socially acceptable.

“Sorry,” Daichi looked down.

Suga laughed, and it filled the night, curling around him like the smoke had. “So how are you feeling now?”

“Good,” Daichi nodded, “I’m good.” He was still nodding, and he consciously stilled the movement of his head. 

Suga propped his chin on one hand, “I’m glad-”

“You have the best laugh,” Daichi interrupted. The words spilled out of him, embarrassment registering only dully and a few seconds too late. 

“Oh yeah?” Suga smiled, eyes crinkling a little at the corners.

“Yeah,” Daichi breathed.

“So you get nicer when you’re high,” Suga remarked. “Good to know.”

Daichi shook his head. “Not nicer, just more honest I think.”

“Oh?” Suga leaned forward a little, hands falling to his crossed legs. “So what you’re saying is if I have questions, now’s the time to ask them.”

Having Suga’s undivided attention was making Daichi’s mouth go dry, or maybe that was just the weed.

“I guess,” he finally said.

Suga looked thoughtful for a moment, and Daichi began to worry about what sort of question he might ask. Would he even be able to convincingly lie right now? 

“Hmm,” Suga scrunched his mouth to one side, “well I can’t think of one.”

Daichi felt both relieved and strangely disappointed. “That’s okay,” he said. “I’ll be like this for a little while, so you can think about it.” 

Suga snorted, “you took like four hits.”

“I’m aware,” Daichi said, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. 

“Not gonna lie, that’s a little embarrassing,” Suga said.

Daichi laughed, “oh for sure. But I figure you’ll keep it a secret.”

It was Suga’s turn to make an ‘X’ over his heart, which he did with a wide smile. Daichi smiled back, drinking in every shift in expression on Suga’s face. 

It wasn’t really true, Daichi thought, what he’d said about being more honest. If he was really being honest he would tell Suga that he was probably the most beautiful person Daichi had ever met in real life. He would tell Suga about the extra hours he had to spend in the lab correcting sloppy mistakes he’d made at Karasuno in a rush to spend more time with him. If he was really being honest he might start talking about everything he liked about Suga and just never stop.

To make sure he didn’t say anything particularly damning, Daichi asked a question. “Did you always want to work with animals?”

Suga looked surprised by the question, and seemed to think for a moment before answering it. “I used to want to be a little more academic in my work with animals, but I think I always wanted to work with them, yes.”

“What made you change your mind?” Daichi asked.

Suga smiled, and began talking about being an undergrad in Tokyo, staring down the possibility of grad school. Daichi tried to listen, he really did, but he found himself lost in watching the way Suga spoke with his hands and impersonated his snobby classmates and gruff professors. He caught little snatches of the story here and there, but if asked to repeat it back would be woefully lost. Suga talked for long minutes, describing how he had found Karasuno and created his current research project, and Daichi tried to focus on the words instead of the shapes Suga’s mouth made as he talked. 

He paused in his story, halfway through explaining the innovations to Karasuno he wanted to pitch to Saeko, and blushed slightly.

“I’m sorry, I’ve just been rambling on,” he said.

Daichi shook his head, “no it’s good. I like listening to you talk.” 

Suga grinned, “I see we’re still feeling honest.”

“Apparently,” Daichi flushed.

“That’s good, because I’ve thought of a question.”

Daichi gulped and nodded.

“So,” Suga began, “what the hell is the dynamic between Tsukishima and Tadashi?”

Daichi laughed, relief coursing through him. “I have no idea. They are weird together, though.”

“Right?” Suga’s eyes were wide. “Tadashi won’t answer any of my questions about it.”

“They, like, jointly make fun of people,” Daichi said. “It feels rehearsed. Like they met up beforehand to decide what to say.”

“Do they make fun of you?” Suga asked.

“A little!” Daichi laughed.

“And you just take it?” 

“Hey, I just told you it was a coordinated attack. Two against one!”

Suga was laughing too, “I’m surprised, Sawamura. I thought you would command more respect from an underclassman-”

“Daichi,” Daichi interrupted. “You can just call me Daichi. Everyone calls me that.”

Suga’s eyes widened, and he looked down for a moment. “Okay,” he said to the grass by his feet, “Daichi, then.”

Too late Daichi realized he had majorly underestimated how it would feel to hear Suga use his first name. His heart thudded, and he swallowed.

“R-right,” his voice shook, and he watched as Suga smiled and tugged at a blade of grass by his right shoe. 

Long seconds passed and Suga pulled at more grass, piling them one by one on the side of his shoe where the arch of his foot made a flat spot. After maybe twelve blades of grass he looked back up at Daichi, worrying at a spot on his bottom lip with his teeth.

“Daichi?”

“Yeah,” Daichi’s eyes snapped up to meet Suga’s, and was struck by the peculiar sensation he was falling endlessly forward. He brought his hands closer to his hips to steady himself.

“You went a little quiet there,” Suga said.

“Sorry,” Daichi whispered. All he could think about was kissing the little mark Suga had made on his bottom lip with his teeth. The spot shone slightly in the low light, a little redder than the surrounding pink. Daichi didn’t think that it was the worst idea he’d ever had, kissing Suga. Before he’d realized it Daichi brought his hand to Suga’s face, his thumb very gently brushing over the other man’s bottom lip. He thought the spot where Suga had bitten down might feel a little warmer.

“You shouldn’t bite your lips,” he muttered, “you’ll make them bleed.”

“Right,” the word was soft as an exhale, and Daichi felt it ghost against his wrist. 

Heat flooding his face, Daichi’s mind finally caught up to what he was doing. He pulled his hand back, but Suga leaned against it, jaw against his palm and lip pressed more firmly to his thumb. Daichi took a shaky breath and met Suga’s eyes. They were half-lidded and a little red from the weed, and in the low light Suga’s pupils had almost overtaken his irises, a thin band of brown still visible. 

“Suga?” Daichi didn’t know if he could even voice the question fully, shaky as he felt.

Suga’s lips pursed against the pad of Daichi’s thumb in an almost-kiss, and Daichi let out the breath he’d taken. His hand moved, thumb against Suga’s cheek and fingers catching in the hair that curled behind his ear. Suga shifted forward, practically on his knees. He was close, so close, and Daichi was practically falling into his eyes. His fingers slid into Suga’s soft hair, thumb rubbing against his cheekbone. Suga’s eyes blinked closed, his cheek fitting into the contour of Daichi’s palm. He was so close. So close and warm and perfect. 

Their noses were just brushing when a crash and a shriek came from the house. Suga’s eyes snapped open and he moved to look towards the door, and Daichi immediately missed the warmth of his face against his palm. Another muffled yell came from the house and Suga was on his feet, walking towards whatever was happening inside. Daichi followed, which is how he found himself standing in the doorway behind Suga and looking at the bleeding underclassmen in the living room, feeling like the butt of a colossal joke.

Suga moved quickly, and Daichi sort of trailed behind him as he instructed Kuroo and Bokuto before shepherding the kid towards the stairs. He wanted to drive the kid for some reason. Drive him to the hospital. Daichi was too high for this, too high to be anywhere but sitting in the grass with Suga and finding out what his smile tasted like. He could barely wrap his head around finding a ride, let alone getting the kid checked into the emergency room. And Suga shouldn’t have to worry about this kind of thing, not tonight. He shouldn’t always feel like he has to take things on, and take them on with a smile. That’s what Daichi wanted to say, that Suga didn’t always have to take care of other people. That he didn’t need to worry so much.

It’s not exactly how it came out.

“You weren’t the one irresponsible enough to invite a freshman to a house party,” Daichi said. Suga’s face dropped, and Daichi instantly regretted saying anything.

“Because I’m sure you were such an angel as a freshman, Sawamura,” Suga hissed. So it was Sawamura again - Daichi felt vaguely sick. Suga spoke again, his eyes hard. “Go get the kid a bottle of water.”

Daichi watched Suga walk the kid up the stairs and felt like a moron. After a few seconds of self-pity Daichi walked to the bar, picked up two bottles of water, and walked upstairs. He found Suga and Hinata in the bathroom, the freshman sitting on the toilet lid and Suga cleaning up the blood along his hairline and down one side of his face. Daichi leaned against the doorway and watched Suga work. He was efficient but gentle, and explained every step of what he was doing to Hinata as he did it. There was no way he didn’t know Daichi was there, but he didn’t look up once as he worked. Daichi figured he deserved it. 

Suga had finished cleaning up Hinata’s head and had the kid holding a wad of toilet paper to the cut while he searched through the medicine cabinet.

“There should be butterfly bandages and antiseptic in the top drawer,” Daichi said after watching for a moment. Suga located them and went back to work on Hinata’s forehead. When he was done he finally turned back to Daichi.

“Thank you,” he said.

“Sure thing.”

“You’re pretty familiar with this medicine cabinet. Do you often oversee party first aid?”

That pulled a smile from Daichi. “It’s been known to happen,” he admitted. “Bokuto is a little accident prone.”

“Ah,” Suga nodded in understanding, “that doesn’t surprise me.” 

He handed Hinata a clean washcloth he’d unearthed from the second drawer and instructed him to hold it over the butterfly bandages. The freshman seemed a little subdued, and followed directions without saying much. 

Daichi nodded and looked down, dragging the rubber toe of his shoe over the smooth tile of the bathroom floor. After a moment he spoke again.

“Sorry for being kind of a dick.”

“Hm,” Suga hummed in understanding, mouth twitching into a smile. “It’s okay. You’re pretty high.”

“I’m not…” Daichi trailed off. He was high, but that wasn’t why he had said that. He needed Suga to know that none of the actions he had taken had been because of the weed. “I mean I am high,” he started again, “but mostly I guess I just thought you were taking on responsibility you didn’t have to. It didn’t seem fair to you, I mean you don’t know these people. But it sort of… didn’t come out that way.”

Suga snorted, “oh is that what you meant to say?” He shot Daichi a smile, “I appreciate it. I don’t mind, though. I mean I used to be the one who was a mess at parties and needed my friends to take care of me, so I like to think I’m paying all of that forward.”

“I can’t picture you being a mess,” Daichi admitted.

“And I never intend to be one again,” Suga said. He helped Hinata stand up, and Daichi stood to the side to let them pass into the hall. Turning back to Daichi, Suga wore a complicated smile. “I texted Yamaguchi to drive us to the ER, and he’ll be here any minute. I’m sorry about tonight.”

“No it’s okay,” Daichi insisted. 

He wanted to say Suga didn’t have anything to apologize for, that it was Daichi who should be sorry. But he also knew that what Suga was apologizing for was that the bright little moment between them had been snuffed out, that the potential of those few seconds out on the grass had floated away, insubstantial as smoke. Daichi was sorry for that, too, but instead of saying anything he followed Suga downstairs, watching to make sure he and Hinata didn’t trip.

He watched as Suga talked with Bokuto and Kuroo, and felt the possibilities of the night grow dimmer and dimmer. Yamaguchi arrived, looking more nervous than Daichi could remember seeing him, and Suga began ushering Hinata towards the door. Yamaguchi and Kuroo seemed to be talking, but Daichi wasn’t paying attention. He was watching Suga pull Hinata further away, watching the one chance which had magically fallen into his lap slip out into the night. It had taken four hits from a joint not intended for him for Daichi to build up the courage to be honest with himself, and now that honesty was leaving with Suga. Since they had been interrupted by Hinata’s accident Daichi had felt a step behind, and not just because of the weed.

Then Suga was out the door, and Yamaguchi was gone too. Daichi was rooted to his spot in Kuroo and Bokuto’s living room. He was gone… and now what? A slightly more reasonable, slightly more sober side of Daichi thought that hope was probably not lost, that there was a decent chance he and Suga could get back to where they’d left off at some point in the future. But a much more insistent part of Daichi was convinced that what he wanted had just walked out that door.

Another second passed and then Daichi found his feet becoming unrooted, found himself practically running out the door after Suga, chasing whatever magic of that night which hadn’t faded to nothing. 

He found Suga and Yamaguchi standing on opposite sides of the car, Suga by an open back door and Yamaguchi on the driver’s side, talking.

Suga was saying something that sounded a lot like, “that was absolutely fucking brutal, Tadashi.”

Yamaguchi looked embarrassed. “I know,” he said, “should I go apologize? I feel bad. I just got nervous.”

“Nah, he’ll probably be fine,” Suga shook his head, then turned, seeming to realize Daichi was there too. “Uh, hi.”

“Hi,” Daichi said. He hadn’t really thought this far ahead when he’d followed Suga out of the house, and he was starting to wish he had.

“Hi Daichi,” Yamaguchi said. Daichi turned to him, fully realizing that he had made the decision to chase after Suga with a witness present. A witness he was academically obligated to see three times a week. Great.

“Hi, Yamaguchi,” Daichi finally replied. “I thought I could come, uh, help.”

“Help?” Yamaguchi asked, giving Daichi a suspicious look. He couldn’t be bothered with Yamaguchi’s expression, though, as a smile was slowly spreading over Suga’s face.

“Yeah,” Daichi breathed, eyes on Suga, “I thought I could help.”

“Get in, then,” Suga gestured to the passenger seat door, “you’re navigating.”

Daichi grinned and followed Suga’s directions. Fortunately, the directions to this hospital were not particularly complicated, as Daichi was still pretty stoned. Every few minutes he would catch Suga’s eyes in the rearview mirror and Yamaguchi would have to prompt him for the next turn. 

Suga had Hinata’s head in his lap, and was talking to him in a low voice to keep him awake. At one point he pushed the sweaty hair back from Hinata’s injured forehead and Daichi felt hot with jealousy in a way that was almost surprising in its intensity. Daichi knew it was irrational, and squashed the feeling down right away. Some trace of envy must have remained in his eyes, though, because the next time they met Suga’s he held Daichi’s gaze and moved his hand from Hinata’s hair to Daichi’s shoulder, letting his thumb rub once, twice, against the side of Daichi’s neck. Daichi suppressed a shiver and swallowed thickly. 

When they finally did pull into the parking lot next to the emergency room the stream of words from the backseat made it seem like Hinata was drifting towards sleep and Suga was trying to keep him conscious. He seemed to be succeeding for the most part, with only a few sleepy moments between Suga’s comments and Hinata’s brief answers. Yamaguchi parked as close as possible to the hospital doors and killed the engine.

“Thanks Tadashi,” Suga said, leaning forward in his seat. “I can take him in and wait for one of his friends to get here.”

“Uh, no,” Yamaguchi turned around in the driver's seat, one eyebrow raised. “You two smell way too much like weed to drop him off. I’ll go in.”

Daichi winced, “I didn’t realize it was that bad.”

Yamaguchi rolled his eyes, “yeah the ten second delay between asking for directions and getting them was very subtle.”

“Sorry,” Daichi muttered. He could feel his face heating, but Suga just laughed from the backseat.

“If you think that’s best, Tadashi,” he said. Suga opened the door and slid out, pulling a tired-looking Hinata behind him. “How ya feeling, kiddo?”

“‘M okay,” Hinata muttered, then after a moment added: “head hurts.”

“I’m sure it does,” Suga said, herding him towards Yamaguchi, who in turn began walking him towards the emergency room doors.

“I’ll be back soon,” Yamaguchi tossed over his shoulder.

“I owe you, like, so much,” Suga replied with a wave. 

Daichi stood beside him, and watched until Yamaguchi disappeared into the hospital before turning to Suga.

“I can’t believe Yamaguchi just dropped everything to come help some random kid,” Daichi said.

Suga nodded, “yeah he’s a really generous person. But, to be fair, I don’t think he had a lot going on tonight.”

Daichi laughed, “that’s not very nice!”

Suga shrugged, and turned to Daichi smiling, “well then you better not tell him I said it.”

“Cross my heart,” Daichi said. His mouth was feeling a little dry again, but while before it had been the weed he was pretty sure this time it was mostly due to the way Suga’s smile made his eyes crinkle at the corners.

“I’ll hold you to that.”

“Whatever you want,” Daichi breathed. Suga’s eyebrows shot towards his hairline just as Daichi registered what he had just said. He felt himself blush.

“You good?” Suga asked, a laugh clearly pressing itself around the corners of his smile.

Daichi nodded, not trusting himself to talk again.

Suga looked unconvinced. “I mean I didn’t think the weed was that strong, but maybe my tolerance is just fucked-”

“No, no it’s wearing off,” Daichi interrupted. “I’m just, uh, not the best with words.”

Suga smiled, the soft one this time. The one that Daichi felt in his stomach. “You do alright.” 

After a moment’s hesitation Suga walked over to a bench a few paces from the ER doors and sat down, motioning for Daichi to follow. He settled himself beside Suga, leaving some space between them. Space for the fact that Suga hadn’t called him “Daichi” since that first time and for the growing suspicion that he’d been saying the wrong things since he saw Suga that night.

Suga waited maybe half a minute before speaking again. “You know you kept saying that I shouldn’t feel responsible for Hinata, but you came to help him too.”

“I suppose,” Daichi said. His motivations had been less altruistic than Suga’s, but he was glad that someone more closely connected to Hinata than a random party guest and his grad student friend was at the hospital as well. He told Suga as much, and the other man nodded, seeming to chew the words over.

“I think you’re really kind,” he finally said. “I mean you’re always really helpful and stuff at the center, so I had my suspicions, but,” Suga turned to Daichi with a brilliant smile, “you’re a really good guy.”

Daichi felt something in his heart clench. Everything Suga had said had been nice, but why did he feel like he was being let down gently when he hadn’t even gotten a chance to try.

“I’m not that kind,” he finally replied.

Suga gave him a questioning look, “and yet I have all this evidence to the contrary.”

“No,” Daichi shook his head, eyes on the bench in between them. “You’re misreading the evidence.”

“Oh am I?” Suga’s voice was teasing. “Then as such a talented researcher you’ll have to enlighten me.”

“I don’t help out at the research center to be nice,” Daichi started. His legs were shaking a little, and he was sure his voice was doing the same, but he pressed on. “I don’t do it to be nice, I do it because seeing you is the best part of my week and that’s the easiest way to spend time with you. And I didn’t come tonight just because I wanted Hinata to be okay, I mean I do, but mostly I came because I didn’t want the night to end before I got a chance to tell you how I feel. I’m not kind,” Daichi turned to finally look at Suga, who was staring back at him with wide eyes, “I just like you.”

“Oh,” Suga breathed. His hands were clenched hard around the edge of the bench. In the artificial light of the hospital’s entrance Suga’s eyes looked very big, and his face was doing something complicated and hard to decipher. Daichi was almost completely sober at this point, and he found himself wishing that his previous chemical buffer was still there.

“Sorry that was really…” Daichi swallowed, grasping desperately at how to give Suga a graceful out. This was a lot to put on a guy who had maybe kind-of considered kissing him back earlier that night while somewhat stoned. “I don’t expect you to say it back or anything-”

Suga moved very quickly. From his spot on the bench he turned, hands coming up to cup Daichi’s face and pull him closer, stopping him mid-sentence. He stayed like that for a moment, held still by Suga’s hand’s, his thumbs brushing softly over Daichi’s cheeks. Suga’s eyes were only a few centimeters away, and Daichi watched them move over his face.

“Are you serious?” Suga finally asked, eyes still mapping Daichi’s.

“I-yes,” Daichi replied. The other man’s hands were warm, and he was having trouble focusing on anything but how Suga’s breath felt against his lips.

“You’re telling me you helped with all that stuff because you wanted to spend time with me?” There was something shaky behind Suga’s words that Daichi hadn’t heard before. Something unsure.

Daichi figured getting rid of the insecurity in Suga’s voice was worth his remaining scrap of dignity. “I’m telling you that every week I leave my work half-done so I can see you.”

“Every week?”

“Every week,” Daichi smiled and leaned forward a little, his nose brushing Suga’s. 

Their faces were so close Daichi could really only see Suga’s eyes, and he watched them crinkle at the corners as a smile spread across the other man’s face. Their faces were so close that Suga only had to tilt his head slightly to slot their noses next to one another, to let his eyelashes brush against the tops of Daichi’s cheeks as he blinked his eyes closed, to kiss him more softly than Daichi could ever remember being kissed.

Suga had always struck Daichi as someone who didn’t think too hard about things before doing them, who moved in whichever direction he wanted and expected a path to appear in front of him. And Daichi didn’t see why a path wouldn’t appear, why the world wouldn’t bend around someone so kind and obviously full of light. But now Suga moved carefully, hands gentle and lips soft and hesitant. 

After a moment he pulled back, breath mingling with Daichi’s between their faces. “Is this okay?” his voice was a whisper.

Daichi nodded, already pulling Suga back towards him. “Yes,” he said against Suga’s parted lips, fingers tangling in his hair to pull him closer still. 

Suga tasted a little like weed, and Daichi was sure he did as well, but he didn’t care. All he could focus on was the way Suga’s mouth moved against his, the way his tongue was hot and slick as it teased at the seam of his lips. The hand not in Suga’s hair found its way to Suga’s hip. It rested there gently at first, but then Suga tugged Daichi’s bottom lips between his teeth, hard, and Daichi found his thumb pressing against the soft space above Suga’s hipbone, his fingers sliding over the denim of Suga’s jeans. 

Daichi was content to sit on that bench for the foreseeable future and forget himself in kissing Suga, but a sound to his right made him startle and pull back. He was suddenly very aware that he was in a practically public place, kissing another man. Something in Suga’s face told Daichi that he had just remembered their location as well. The sound revealed itself to be a bird, but still Suga brought his hands back to his own lap and Daichi did the same.

“There’s a chance,” Suga whispered, “that right outside of an emergency room door is not an ideal place to do this.”

“Are you sure?” Daichi feigned shock.

Suga laughed and bumped his shoulder against Daichi’s, letting it stay pressed there. “Pretty sure.”

“Oh okay,” Daichi’s hand found one of Suga’s and he laced their fingers together, tucking their joined hands into the space between them on the bench. “As long as you’re sure.”

They stayed like that, shoulders pressed together and hands clasped, for long moments before either of them spoke again. Daichi watched the shadows play around the contours of Suga’s face, and Suga stared down at his lap, sometimes glancing to the side to meet Daichi’s gaze.

Suga finally broke the silence. “You’re staring at me.”

“Sorry,” Daichi replied. He didn’t look away.

Suga’s lips pressed together to hide a smile. “You know,” he began, “up until tonight I thought you were straight.”

Daichi choked on a surprised inhale, coughing. “What?” he wheezed between coughs, “the whole time?”

“Mmhm,” Suga nodded serenely. 

“That…” Daichi trailed off, thoughtful, “that actually makes a lot of sense.”

“Well yeah, you do wear a lot of polo shirts,” Suga offered.

“What, no I meant-” Daichi made a sound of protest as he processed what Suga said, and bumped their shoulders together harder. “What’s wrong with my polo shirts?”

“Nothing!” Suga laughed, “I like your polo shirts.”

Daichi shook his head in mock irritation. “What I meant is that it explains why I have been, you know, largely unsuccessful for the past year.”

“Ah,” Suga nodded, “well you certainly take your time.”

Daichi snorted, “yeah I’ve been told I’m not particularly talented in this area.”

“Told by whom?” Suga raised an eyebrow.

“My roommates, mostly,” Daichi answered.

“Is that why Kiyoko kept asking about my type?” Suga asked. Daichi’s mouth dropped open at the betrayal, but Suga continued on, “I thought she might have been flirting with me. I mean I was flattered, obviously, but what was I supposed to do?” He was smiling at Daichi’s expression, eyes shining in the light spilling from the hospital doors. “It’s not like I could say ‘thank you buy no, I’m trying to seduce your roommate.’” 

Suga seemed to realize what he had said just as Daichi did, and he clapped his free hand to his mouth.

“Trying to do what now?” Daichi asked, mouth stretching around a suppressed laugh.

Suga shook his head, eyes wide, and spoke from behind his hand. “Trying to flirt with?” It came out more a question than anything else.

“Try again,” Daichi laughed.

“Hold hands with?” Suga tugged his hand back from where it was being held, but Daichi held onto it and instead leaned in closer.

“Hm, no,” Daichi tilted his head to place a soft kiss on the side of Suga’s neck, who shivered in response. “I don’t think that was quite it.”

“You know, I think what I meant to say,” Suga’s breathing sped up, “was just have, you know, a very chaste sort of lunch date with.”

“Is that so?” Daichi asked, moving to kiss the soft skin just below Suga’s ear. “Is that what you want?”

A breath caught in Suga’s throat, and Daichi could feel his rough swallow against his lips. “You know I was really just kidding, I’m really a very old-fashioned sort of person.”

“Oh yeah?” Daichi found the place on Suga’s neck where his pulse pounded and sucked on it.

Suga exhaled raggedly, but his tone was still light and teasing. “I’m a virgin, actually.”

Daichi laughed against the smooth column of Suga’s throat, “Oh I’m sure.” 

“No really,” Suga was practically panting.

“So the kid’s all checked in,” a voice came from in front of them, making both Daichi and Suga jump. Yamaguchi stood in front of the bench, face pinched in annoyance.

“Hi Tadashi,” Suga’s voice was higher than usual, and this time he did successfully tug his hand back into his own lap. Daichi mourned its absence.

“You know you’re in public,” Yamaguchi said.

“I did, actually,” Suga replied, looking only a little guilty. 

“Uh huh,” Yamaguchi rolled his eyes. “Well the kid’s roommate will be here in a bit, and they’re stitching him up inside.”

“I’ll wait for the roommate,” Suga volunteered. “You’ve already gone above and beyond.”

Yamaguchi shrugged, but some of the irritation disappeared from his face. “Whatever you want. Daichi,” he turned his attention from Suga, “I can give you a ride home if you want.”

“Oh,” Daichi said, unsure of how to reply. He didn’t want a ride home. He wanted to stay next to Suga and wait for Hinata’s roommate, and then he wanted to go home with him. He also had the presence of mind to know he probably shouldn’t say that out loud. 

Instead he tried for diplomacy. “Suga, uh, probably shouldn’t wait by himself. I don’t mind staying.”

The expression on Yamaguchi’s face made Daichi think his strategy had been less than successful.

“Is that so?” Yamaguchi drawled.

“Personally,” Suga piped up from beside Daichi, “I would feel much safer with someone else here. And if Daichi doesn’t mind…”

Yamaguchi shot Suga a halfhearted glare, “Suga you live like four blocks away.” That was a revelation for Daichi, but Suga seemed unperturbed by Yamaguchi’s response.

“And?” he replied.

Yamaguchi snorted and shook his head. “You crazy kids have fun.” He turned and, tossing a wave over his shoulder, walked towards his car. Daichi watched him get in and drive away in silence before nervously turning to Suga. He had sort of just invited himself to stay at the hospital, and he was sure the implication that he’d like to stay beyond that had not been lost on Suga.

Meeting Daichi’s eyes, Suga’s softened in a smile. “Concerned for my safety, are we?”

“Absolutely,” Daichi reclaimed Suga’s hand, slotting their fingers together. “There are some real weirdos out here at night.”

“Oh I know,” Suga nodded conspiratorially, “like just a moment ago I think this guy tried to come home with me.”

“That’s crazy,” Daichi replied, his heart thudding.

“I know,” Suga squeezed Daichi’s hand, “but I didn’t really mind, he was pretty cute.”

Daichi smiled, and squeezed Suga’s hand back. “Well, then that’s okay.”

“I think so too.” Suga pressed a soft kiss to Daichi’s cheeks and then settled next to him, shoulders pressed together firmly and fingers entwined on the bench between them. 

Daichi stroked his thumb over Suga’s and thought that no matter if it was for Hinata’s roommate or for the past year, Suga was worth the wait.

Chapter Text

Takeda Ittetsu prided himself on giving good gifts. Always the appropriate price range, always the right balance between thoughtful and practical. Or at least he had. But as he looked down at the housewarming gift he’d bought for Ukai, Takeda had his doubts. 

The invitation to the party had been a surprise. That Tuesday he had been elbow-deep in a tank of algae when Ukai and Saeko had walked into the room, bickering.

“I’m telling you,” Saeko was saying, “you need to have real food there, and booze.”

Ukai rolled his eyes, “I don’t understand why you’re making me do this at all.”

Saeko smacked him on the arm, “I’m not making you do anything! This is an important part of being a homeowner.”

“I rent though,” Ukai replied before noticing Takeda, who was doing his best not to eavesdrop. “Morning, Takeda-san.”

“Good morning!” Takeda said too brightly, keeping his eyes fixed on water in front of him. The flask he had submerged was full, but he was sure he could get a more concentrated sample if he left it in the water for a little longer.

“You’re a little soggier than usual today, Sensei,” Saeko commented.

“Am I?” Takeda shot back, focusing on the flask. It was ready, he just had to bring it up without disturbing the algae colonies he had managed to collect.

“You’re not dressed for it,” Ukai’s voice came from Takeda’s right, and before he knew it warm fingers were pushing one messily pushed-up sleeve of his dress shirt further up his arm, rolling it twice to secure it. 

Takeda watched Ukai’s tan hands on his sleeve, and felt his own clench around the cold flask.

“Thank you,” he breathed.

Ukai nodded, “I can get the other one too,” he offered, “the right sleeve was just about to dip right into the water.”

“No need,” Takeda pulled the flask up slowly. “This is the last sample I need to take like this.” Once the sample was safely corked, Takeda turned to Ukai and offered a smile of thanks, which Ukai returned. Saeko spoke, pulling his focus away from the way Ukai’s eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled.

“You’re coming too, right Sensei?”

“Hm?” Takeda raised an eyebrow.

“To the housewarming party,” she clarified.

Takeda’s gratitude evaporated. “Oh, no. I mean - you don’t have to,” he practically tripped over the words.

“No, you should come,” Ukai interrupted. 

“It’s really fine,” Takeda assured him, anxiety twisting in his gut. “I would never assume-”

“Please come,” Ukai said. One side of his mouth lifted in a half-smile. “I’ll be sure to have food.”

“Oh now you’ll have food,” Saeko cut in.

Ukai rolled his eyes at her, “what can I say? You talked me into it.”

Saeko clapped Ukai on the back, hard, before directing him to get started on moving the latest fish delivery to the freezers. Ukai left with a wave over one shoulder, and Takeda nodded in return. 

“Don’t forget,” Saeko instructed Takeda. “This Friday, I’ll text you the address.”

Takeda grimaced. “He doesn’t have to invite me. I mean I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

“Are you kidding me?” Saeko shook her head, “of course you’re not intruding. Make sure you’re there or I’ll come drag you myself.”

“Okay, okay,” Takeda laughed. “I’ll do my best.”

“You better,” Saeko grumbled as she left the room.

Now it was Friday night and the party had started fifteen minutes ago, which meant if he left now Takeda would be able to slip in right as fashionably late turned to rude. The only problem with leaving was that Takeda couldn’t bring himself to move from where his feet felt glued to the floor. He stared at the gift he’d bought and wondered if it was too late to just pick up a bottle of nice sake instead. He had been walking by an antique shop when it had caught his eye, and he had known immediately it was perfect for Ukai. 

It was a bookend, clearly hand-made, with a seascape replicated on its polished wooden surface. A fisherman, depicted in a few carved lines, stood up in a boat and pushed himself through the waves. In the background several small houses dotted a craggy seashore. Takeda had seen it and instantly found Ukai in the stiff lines of the lonely fisherman. And hadn’t Ukai mentioned that he was building a bookcase? It was perfect, and he hadn’t thought twice before buying it, but now that the evening of the party was upon him Takeda couldn’t bring himself to put it into the gift bag and leave. It was just a little too thoughtful. A little too honest. 

Takeda glanced at the time on his phone. There definitely wasn’t time to stop for a different gift, as it was he would be lucky if he weren’t the last one there. He took a steadying breath and shoved the bookend into the gift bag it had come with and tried not to think about its weight banging against the side of his leg as he walked to his car. 

The drive felt short, and Takeda almost resented his seeming inability to hit any red lights. Soon, too soon, he found himself in front of an apartment building. Saeko had sent him the apartment number, but he didn’t need it. Only one apartment on the ground floor spilled sounds of laughter and talking into the night air, the silhouettes of many bodies moving behind its narrow windows.

After a few fortifying breaths Takeda stepped out of his car, gift bag wrinkling slightly under his too-tight grip. Closer now, Takeda could see that the main door to Ukai’s apartment had been propped open, only a screen separating the party from the charged night air. The latch creaked in Takeda’s hand and he was inside, bathed instantly in bright words and warm light. There was a shout to his right and Saeko’s face appeared between the shoulders of a group of men Takeda half-recognized from Karasuno. 

In a moment of panic Takeda hid the gift behind him, and attempted a smile.

“I was about to come drag you here myself!” Saeko beckoned him further into the party with a hand already clasped around the neck of a beer bottle, liquid sloshing within it from the movement. 

“Sorry I’m late,” Takeda said and forced his smile wider. Behind his back the paper of the gift bag crinkled around the bookend.

“Well come get a drink and say hello to everyone,” Saeko turned and ventured further into the action of the party, clearly expecting Takeda to follow. Desperately, Takeda glanced for somewhere to stash the housewarming gift, and his eyes landed on a side table already holding a few bottles of liquor and one potted fern, clearly gifts as well. Takeda shoved the bag behind the fern and walked after Saeko, joining her by a table of food and drinks where she stood with her brother.

The Tanaka siblings were bickering. 

“You can’t have my beer,” Ryu was holding an unopened can above his head, out of reach of Saeko.

“You shouldn’t even be drinking it!” Saeko said, uselessly stretching her hand towards the can. “You drove us!”

“It’s one beer!” Ryu laughed.

“And your tolerance is as bad as Ukai’s. Give it here.”

Ryu scowled. “I’m telling him you said that. At his own party, no less.” 

“Tell me what?” Ukai’s voice came from behind Takeda’s left shoulder, and he resisted the urge to whip his head around. 

“Saeko says you have a low alcohol tolerance,” Ryu said.

Ukai made a face. “It’s not that bad!”

“It’s certainly not great,” Saeko shot back, unrepentant.

Ukai rolled his eyes and grabbed the beer can from an unsuspecting Ryu, who made a mild sound of protest. “There are advantages,” the beer opened with a hiss. “I’m a cheap date.”

“Have you been going on a lot of those lately?” Saeko shot back.

Ukai narrowed his eyes. “Have you been talking to my grandfather?”

“Only about marine conservation,” Saeko answered, though her eyes sparkled with laughter.

“Hm,” Ukai raised an eyebrow and then seemed to notice Takeda standing to his right. He blinked a few times before speaking. “Takeda-san. Thanks for coming.”

Takeda swallowed hard and smiled. “Thank you for inviting me. Your apartment looks lovely.”

“Thanks.” Ukai looked almost like he wanted to say something else, but Saeko clapped him on the back and chimed in loudly.

“Aren’t you glad that you listened to me and threw a real party? It’s nice, huh?”

“This is the third time you asked me this,” Ukai answered, but a smile still tugged at the corners of his mouth. “And once again, it’s nice.”

Saeko nodded enthusiastically, and Takeda wondered how many beers she had already made her way through. “It’s good to have everyone together!”

“Right,” Ukai hesitated for a moment, “I mean I did just escape from being shown about a hundred photos of the same baby. But it’s nice.”

Saeko snorted. “You don’t like kids?”

“I like kids,” Ukai said. “I just don’t need to see all 360 degrees of one. Also I find babies unsettling.”

“Why?” Saeko raised her eyebrows. “They’re cute, especially when they belong to someone else.”

“They have, like, a kill button on top of their head. I don’t like that.” Ukai took a sip of his beer.

Saeko made a sound of disbelief, “I’m sorry they what-“

“It’s called a fontanelle,” Takeda interrupted. “It’s only there for the first nine months.”

“Seems like poor engineering,” Ukai said.

“It’s actually really good engineering,” Takeda replied, “they need it so their brains develop properly.”

“Hm,” Ukai wrinkled his nose and took another sip of beer. “Well I’m not a biologist, but I don’t like it.”

“I study algae,” Takeda laughed, “but it is a little creepy.”

“So I see we’re glossing over how he called it a kill button,” Saeko interjected. 

Takeda shrugged, “It sort of looks like one.”

Saeko shook her head, “there’s something wrong with you both.”

“When did you get so pro-baby?” Ryu interjected. “Oh my god, is it your biological clock? Is it,” he waggled his eyebrows, “ticking?”

“I’ll kill you,” Saeko deadpanned, but Ryu laughed, unperturbed. 

Ukai shook his head, but he was smiling. “Takeda-san,” he turned to the shorter man, “what are you drinking?”

“Uh,” Takeda found it very hard to meet Ukai’s eyes, and looked over his shoulder. “Just beer is fine.”

“Okay, don’t go anywhere,” Ukai said as he walked towards the far end of the table. 

Takeda nodded at his retreating back. He was finding it harder than usual to talk, and he stayed quiet as Saeko and Ryu teased each other. 

Being at Ukai’s apartment felt intimate, but he immediately felt dumb for thinking that. It was a party, and obviously it was normal to go to a housewarming party for someone you worked with. But then why did the whole apartment feel like it was ringing with Ukai’s presence? He was larger than life here, too-human between the walls of his home, and Takeda found it hard to catch his breath. He was so distracted Saeko had to try twice to catch his attention.

“Sorry, what?” Takeda turned to her, mentally chastising himself.

“I asked if your department head is still the worst.”

“Oh, yeah, sort of. He just enjoys micromanaging me,” Takeda said. He still felt the weight of the previous week’s meeting across his shoulders, where it had felt like every line of his report had to be explained and re-explained to his prickly boss.

Saeko frowned, “I know I haven’t met him but I don’t like that man at all. Why is he being so intense these days? Does he still hold a grudge or something?”

Takeda’s stomach twisted in anxiety. That wasn’t what he wanted to talk about tonight.

“No I don’t think so,” he said quickly. “I think the department is facing some budget cuts so he needs to figure out how to prioritize funding. It’s not like I cost the university a lot of money though, so it’s probably just that he’s under some pressure.”

Ryu frowned, “just because he’s under a lot of pressure doesn’t mean you should suffer.”

Takeda opened his mouth to reply that it wasn’t too bad when he was interrupted by a cold can being pressed into his palm.

“Who’s under a lot of pressure?” Ukai asked. 

Takeda stared down at the beer can in his hand and felt the phantom warmth of Ukai’s fingertips where they had pressed briefly against his skin.

“My boss,” he answered after a few moments. “Thanks for the beer.”

Ukai nodded in response.

“He’s a dick,” Ryu offered, prompting Ukai to raise an eyebrow.

“I don’t know about that,” Takeda interjected, “he’s just kind of intense.”

“He is sort of a dick,” Saeko grinned.

“What he is is a celebrated academic in his field,” Takeda said. He gave the Tanaka siblings a pointed look, but he was biting back a grin.

“I don’t know,” Ukai grinned, “kind of sounds like he might be a dick.”

“But he has two pHds!” Takeda argued, but he was laughing despite himself.

Ukai shrugged, “where I’m from we call that evidence.”

“Well I’ve got a pHd too, so what does that make me?” Takeda shot back, meeting Ukai’s laughter-filled eyes.

“Hm,” Ukai hummed as he considered Takeda. He maintained eye contact as he sipped his beer, and Takeda felt his palms grow sweaty.

“Maybe you’re the exception that proves the rule,” Ukai said.

“How flattering,” Takeda said dryly, though he struggled to keep a grin off of his face. 

It’s not as if he’d really thought Ukai disliked him, but knowing the other man’s feelings about academia made the compliment all the more meaningful. Considering how unwelcome Ukai’s first experience with University had made him feel, Takeda was grateful he was friendly at all. 

Saeko clapped Takeda on the shoulder, interrupting his train of thought.

“Let us know if you ever need backup with him.”

Takeda laughed, picturing his aging department head being lectured by Saeko and Ukai. “Yeah, okay.”

“I need to go check on my other guests,” Ukai said, looking over his shoulder.

“You don’t sound very enthusiastic,” Saeko said.

Ukai made a face, “I don’t like large groups of people.”

“They’re fine if you only talk to them a few at a time,” Saeko said

“I guess,” Ukai muttered, and offered a smile and wave as he turned towards the rest of the room. Takeda examined the scuffed toe of his left shoe.

Ukai made his way over to a group of around five people, several of whom Takeda recognized as researchers from Karasuno. He thought maybe Ukai looked a little less enthusiastic with them than he had when talking to the Tanakas and him, but that was probably just wishful thinking.

Ryu had wandered towards the door, and was talking with Suga, who threw Takeda a wave and a smile.

“Do you want another drink?” Saeko asked, gesturing to the empty can in Takeda’s hand.

“Sure,” he replied. He hadn’t even realized he’d finished it. New beers in hand, Takeda and Saeko found an empty patch of wall to lean against and talk. It had been a while, Takeda realized, since he had been out like this. He’d forgotten how nice it was. 

After a while Suga joined them, and Takeda found himself mostly listening and laughing as Saeko and the younger man cracked jokes and teased each other. In what seemed like no time at all Takeda was looking at the bottom of another empty can, and this time Saeko pressed a glass of wine into his hand. 

The wine made the room feel softer, and Takeda leaned back into the wall. Saeko was tipsy, which made her louder and funnier, and after some coaxing from Suga she broke into an uncanny impression of Ukai Ikkei, which doubled Takeda over with laughter. Suga was laughing so hard tears were forming in the corners of his eyes, and he had to wipe them away to read a message on his phone.

He looked up from it smiling. 

“Sorry,” Suga said, looking anything but, “I’ve gotta go. Will you tell Ukai thanks for having me?”

Saeko nodded, “sure sure. Go have fun with your boyfriend.”

Suga blushed, “he’s not my boyfriend!” But he was grinning as he turned and left the party.

“Boyfriend?” Takeda mouthed to Saeko, raising one eyebrow.

Saeko grinned, “he’ll tell you when he’s ready.”

“Oh, so it’s Daichi.”

“You didn’t hear it from me,” Saeko replied.

Takeda shook his head. “I may be old, but I’m not blind.”

“You’re not even old,” Saeko laughed. “But do let him tell you himself. He really looks up to you, so I’m sure he’s a little nervous.”

Takeda smiled, “of course I will.” He drained his wine. “Do you know where the bathroom is?”

“Down the hall, first door to the right.”

Takeda nodded his thanks and made his way to the door she had indicated. 

As he washed his hands, Takeda searched his own eyes in the mirror, and found them wine-soft in the stark light of the small bathroom. He shut off the tap and dried his hands.

The hallway was dark in contrast, and he blinked away the glowing shapes clouding his eyes in the transition. Just as the bathroom door clicked closed behind him, Takeda felt something warm bump against his ankle. Startled, he looked down to find a cat winding between his legs, looking up at him plaintively.

“Hi there,” Takeda breathed, kneeling down and reaching out a hand. The cat gave a little purr of approval before rubbing his head hard against Takeda’s outstretched hand. Smiling, he scratched lightly just under the cat’s chin, feeling the rumble of a purr through his fingers.

The floor to Takeda’s right let out a creak, and he turned to find Ukai standing, framed in the entrance to the hallway by the light flooding from the living room.

Ukai took a step forward, and then another one. He was standing almost right next to Takeda, who found himself holding his breath. Ukai crouched, and his hand joined Takeda’s in stroking the cat between them.

“He’s not supposed to be out,” Ukai finally said. “I thought all the people would scare him so I shut him in my room.”

“He seems to be doing alright,” Takeda said.

“Maybe I didn’t give him enough credit,” Ukai offered, “he might be better at hosting a party than I am.”

Takeda smiled, “you’re doing alright, too.”

“Yeah?” Ukai leaned back on his heels and studied the cat, who had flopped down as Takeda continued to stroke his head. 

Takeda looked down, the dark hallway made everything feel closer and louder. 

“Yeah, I think so,” Takeda said.

Ukai breathed out a half-laugh. “Don’t tell Saeko I said this, but I think she was right about the party. It was the right thing to do.”

“Why didn’t you want to?” 

Ukai’s hesitation hung heavy in the air between them, and Takeda was a moment from taking the question back when Ukai finally spoke.

“Honestly?” His voice was soft, “I thought no one would want to come.”

Something in Takeda’s chest squeezed at the vulnerability in the other man’s words. 

“People here really like you,” Takeda said. “I know it’s hard to be new somewhere, but you fit here.” 

“You think I fit here?” Ukai asked, eyes snapping up to meet Takeda’s and holding him there.

“You don’t?” 

“I didn’t…” Ukai began and trailed off, searching Takeda’s eyes. 

Takeda swallowed hard but didn’t look away. Ukai looked down first, breaking eye contact to run a finger over the cat’s head.

“I didn’t think I was going to,” he finally said. “But I like it here. It doesn’t feel how I thought it would feel.”

“How did you think it was going to feel?” Takeda asked.

Ukai seemed to consider his next words carefully, a little wrinkle of thought appearing between his eyebrows. 

“Lonely, I think.”

Takeda’s heart thudded. “And it’s not?”

“No. No, it's good.”

“I’m glad.” Takeda smiled, but found the expression freezing on his face as he took in Ukai’s. The other man’s eyebrows were drawn together, and his mouth was a tight line. In the limited light of the hallways his eyes were sad and cast down towards his own feet. 

“Is something wrong?” Takeda asked.

Ukai looked up, startled. “No, no it’s fine.”

“You don’t seem totally convinced.”

“It’s just that the party and everything kind of makes this place feel like a home.” 

Now that Takeda could see Ukai’s eyes more clearly he could see that what he had taken for sadness before was closer to fear, an expression which didn’t at all match Ukai’s words.

“And is that a bad thing?” Takeda’s voice was low, and he was hyper aware of the hardwood floor under his knee, and the soft form of the cat under his hand.

“I don’t know,” Ukai breathed. “I’ve never lived in an apartment I thought I would miss.”

Takeda’s stomach dropped. “Are you moving?”

“No.” Ukai’s voice was loud in the dark hallway. He repeated himself more quietly. “No. I don’t have any plans to move.” 

Something in Ukai’s voice was shaking, but Takeda couldn’t tell if it was dishonesty.

Takeda willed his own voice to be steady as he replied. “Then you don’t have anything to worry about.”

“Right,” Ukai said. He still sounded unconvinced.

“So don’t worry,” Takeda tried to make his voice as persuasive as possible. “It’s good to be attached to where you live. Means you’re doing something right.”

“Yeah,” Ukai gave a half smile. “Makes me wonder what I’ve been doing wrong for all these years.”

“Maybe you were doing the right things in the wrong places,” Takeda said.

Ukai looked up, and Takeda noted that the expression in his eyes was almost back to normal.

“Maybe,” Ukai said. He pushed himself off the floor and held out a hand to Takeda. “Should we rejoin the party?”

Takeda let himself be pulled to his feet. “Thanks.”

“Takeda-san-“ Ukai began speaking and then paused, looking down. Takeda followed his gaze and found their hands were still joined from when Ukai had helped him out. He felt his mouth go dry.

“Yes?” He pulled his hand from Ukai’s and put it behind his back, closing his fingers around the residual warmth on his palm. 

“Just, uh,” Ukai was still looking down at his hand, now empty and hovering in the space between them. “Thank you. You somehow always know what to say.”

Takeda smiled, “I don’t know about that. I think you just caught me at a good moment.”

“Well, I’ve yet to catch you at a bad one,” Ukai said. Something closer to a smile played around the edges of Ukai’s expression, and Takeda found himself wishing he was the person Ukai seemed to think he was.

“Maybe I’m on a lucky streak,” Takeda replied after a moment.

Ukai gave a half-laugh, but something sad lingered around the corners of his eyes. “Maybe,” he said.

Takeda moved towards the living room, but Ukai didn’t move. Takeda gave him a questioning look.

“I’ll meet you there,” Ukai smiled and picked up the cat from where he was still laying on the ground. “He’d probably be fine, but I wouldn’t want him to get scared by something and run away.”

Takeda nodded. “Right. You wouldn’t want that.” He watched the cat push its head against the side of Ukai’s face, and fought a swell of affection at the sight.

The light of the party enveloped Takeda as quickly as he’d shed it, and under its glow he found Saeko again. Despite the way he felt, he hadn’t been gone for that long and Saeko was waiting for him with another glass of wine. He found himself pressed beside her on a loveseat, laughing again as she easily filled the space with conversation. Takeda’s throat hurt the way it only does after laughing too hard all night long, and the additional glass of wine was finally making his limbs feel heavy. It’s not that he really considered himself a heavyweight, but Takeda had always needed a few drinks before he felt more than just warmed by the alcohol. But now, wine unspooling soft and happy through his body, Takeda sipped slowly. 

Saeko had gone quiet, and after a moment Takeda turned to her to find her leaning back against the seat, eyes half-shut.

“Are you alright?” He asked.

Saeko nodded. “Yeah, just tired from the week. I always want to be able to party on Friday nights the way I used to, but I think I’m too old now.”

“Tell me about it,” Takeda laughed. “I’m glad to be here, though. Thank you for talking me into coming. And securing my invitation, now that I think about it.”

“You didn’t just get invited because of me, Sensei,” Saeko turned to look at Takeda, her gaze steady.

Takeda colored, belatedly hearing the insecurity his words had revealed. “I guess.”

Saeko smiled, her expression a little too knowing for Takeda’s liking. She couldn’t know anything, right? Because there was nothing to know. Takeda swallowed thickly.

“I think you and Ukai are really similar,” Saeko said, finally turning her head to sink once again into the backrest of the loveseat.

“Where did that come from?” Takeda clenched his hands on his lap so they wouldn’t visibly shake. 

“I was just thinking about it,” Saeko shrugged. “I thought that it made sense for you to feel like you were invited here just because of me, just like Ukai was worried about throwing a house warming at all.”

That was unexpected. “He told you that?”

“He didn’t have to,” Saeko said. “It’s funny though…” she trailed off.

“What’s funny?” Takeda prompted.

Saeko turned her head again, cheek pillowed on the backrest and eyes half-lidded. “It’s funny because you both do the same thing. You care so hard about everyone around you, but you never expect others to reciprocate or even notice.”

“I don’t think I’m like that,” Takeda said. 

“Aren’t you?” Saeko’s gaze was piercing and remarkably sober, and Takeda felt frozen under it.

He laughed nervously, “so we’ve reached this point in the night? Therapizing Ittetsu time?”

Saeko exhaled a laugh through her nose, breaking the tension. “Nah, I just don’t like it when you act so insecure.”

“I’ll work on it,” Takeda said dryly. He was saved from any more of Saeko’s disturbingly lucid observations by his phone ringing in his pocket. He pulled it out, frowning. It was odd for someone to call him this late, and his frown only deepened when he read Yamaguchi Tadashi’s name on his phone screen. 

“Sorry,” Takeda said, standing up, “I have to take this.” As he moved towards the door he answered the call, lifting the phone to his ear. “Yamaguchi?”

“Hi, Sensei,” Yamaguchi’s voice shook. 

Something was wrong. Takeda felt a pit of dread form in his stomach, and he pushed the screen door open and stepped outside to avoid disturbing anyone with his phone call.

“Hi,” Takeda said carefully. “What’s going on?”

“I’m really sorry to disturb your night like this,” Yamaguchi said. He was breathing so hard Takeda could hear it through the phone.

“It’s okay,” Takeda said. “What’s going on?”

“I think I need to quit the program,” Yamaguchi’s voice broke on the last word, and Takeda could tell he was crying.

“What? Why?”

“I did something terrible.”

Takeda felt almost nauseous with dread. “What do you mean?”

“I took advantage of Tsukishima.”

Takeda sucked in a breath. This would be what killed his project, wouldn’t it? After all those grueling meetings and meticulous notes, this would be the thing to stop his research and with it any chance of ever getting tenure. Takeda fought to keep his voice steady as he spoke.

“Yamaguchi, I’m going to need you to tell me exactly what happened.”

“Okay,” Yamaguchi took a shaky breath, “okay. Two weeks ago I gave Tsukishima a ride home and then we kissed in my car and then I realized that was completely inappropriate so I stopped it and apologized and he got out. But I felt so horrible. I’ve been thinking about it for two weeks and I realized that I completely manipulated the situation since I was the one who convinced you to hire him. And then I developed a friendship with him and offered him a ride home. And then I returned his advances when I knew better-“

“Wait, hold on,” Takeda interrupted. “You returned his advances? Meaning what, exactly?”

Yamaguchi paused on the other end of the line. “Well, I mean technically he did kiss me first. But it really was my fault because I shouldn’t have been in that position to-“

Takeda interrupted again: “had you ever met Tsukishima before you recommended his application to me?”

“Well, no. But, Sensei, I still think what would be most responsible is for me to leave-“

“Stop,” Takeda cut Yamaguchi off for the third time. His breath was coming more easily, and his panic was beginning to ebb. “Let me get this straight. You recommended someone you had never met to me because you’re good at your job and went over the applications carefully enough to recognize talent when you saw it. Then you happened to develop a friendship with the applicant you selected, which after a few months turned into something more. This person expressed interest in you, which you reciprocated in a consensual manner. Am I missing anything?”

“I guess not,” Yamaguchi mumbled.

Takeda felt sympathy taking the place of the anxiety which had been gripping his insides.

“Yamaguchi,” he said carefully. “I want to be very clear, I read all of the applications you gave me and agreed with you that Tsukishima’s was the most promising. You didn’t manipulate me into anything. You also have no power over Tsukishima’s grading or standing on the project, so I don’t know that’s it’s possible for you to do what you seem to be accusing yourself of. I can’t speak for Tsukishima, but I don’t think you did anything wrong. If he feels comfortable pursuing something romantic or sexual with you, I don’t think it’s taking advantage of anyone for you to consent to it.”

“Oh,” Yamaguchi breathed. “I guess I didn’t think of it like that.”

“Clearly,” Takeda said. “Now please don’t scare me like that again. You’re an asset to the project, and I’d hate to lose you just because an undergraduate developed a bit of a crush on you.”

“I don’t think-“ Yamaguchi paused, and Takeda heard him take a shaky breath. “Thank you, Sensei. I’m sorry I bothered you with this.”

“You don’t have anything to apologize for,” Takeda promised. “I’m sorry you’ve been beating yourself up over this. I’m glad you’re aware that power imbalances can be worrisome when it comes to these types of relationships, but that’s not what’s going on here.”

“Right,” Yamaguchi breathed out deeply.

Takeda tried to make his voice as light as possible as he went on. “I’m sure this won’t be a problem again, but you can always talk to me okay?”

“Okay. Thank you, Sensei.”

“But with that being said, please do your best to never make me talk about your or any other student’s sex life again.”

Yamaguchi let out what could have been a laugh. “I’ll try.”

“That’s all I ask,” Takeda said. “Now was there anything else?”

“No, that was it.”

“Okay. Well I’m sorry you’ve been feeling so bad. Take care of yourself over the weekend, and let’s check in on Monday, okay?”

“Okay, Sensei. Thank you.”

“Anytime. Goodnight, Yamaguchi.”

“Goodnight.”

Takeda hung up the phone and let out a deep breath. The panic which had initially gripped him had mellowed into a mild nausea, and Takeda was left feeling shaky and tired. 

Had he said the right thing? He truly didn’t believe Yamaguchi had done something wrong, but what if there was more to the story? He didn’t feel it was completely right to check in with Tsukishima when, according to Yamaguchi’s version of events, that would probably be more embarrassing for the undergraduate than anything else. But did he have a responsibility to hear the other side of the story?

Without realizing it, Takeda had been pacing in the apartment building’s parking lot as he and Yamaguchi had talked, and he stopped in front of his car, leaning against it with a sigh. What Takeda really wanted was some advice, or clearer policies regarding these sorts of situations. His students were adults, yet he still held a certain amount of responsibility for them. What was the right way forward when it wasn’t clear if any boundaries had been transgressed in the first place?

Takeda sank down until he was sitting on the pavement of the parking lot, his back against his car’s bumper and his head hanging near his knees. All throughout his worries snaked the anxiety of what it would mean for this conversation to become known to his boss. But with that anxiety came guilt for even worrying about something like that. These students deserved to make mistakes and grow and feel supported without the looming dread of academic bureaucracy. Takeda groaned and leaned his forehead against his knees.

The guilt was building. He should know what to do here. There’s no way someone worthy of being a professor should feel lost in this kind of situation. His students deserved better than someone who let his own anxieties get in the way of supporting them. The nausea grew sharper, twisted. Breathing out hard through his nose, he brought his hands to tangle in the hair above his ears, pulling hard. The pain anchored him somewhat, and his breathing came easier. 

The pavement was still warm from the summer sun, and Takeda could feel it warming him as well. A steadying breath rattled through him, and he raised his forehead from his knees. He needed to rejoin the party. 

A screen door banged closed and Takeda looked up at the sound, finding Ukai frozen on his steps, a cigarette halfway to his mouth. His eyes were wide as he took in Takeda, crouched by his car.

“Fuck,” Takeda breathed. Of all the people to witness him like this. He should have sat by the other side of the car. Humiliation crawled hot and stifling up his neck as he watched Ukai approach him, tucking the cigarette behind his ear as he went.

“Are you okay? Can you stand?” There was worry all over Ukai’s face, and its misplaced earnestness made Takeda’s embarrassment all the more acute.

“I’m fine,” Takeda pushed himself up, but immediately strong hands were there to stop him.

“You shouldn’t get up so fast if you’re hurt.”

“I’m not hurt.” Takeda wondered if he could will himself to disappear into the asphalt.

“Are you sure? I didn’t see you drink that much, did it just all hit you at once or something?” There was concern in every line of Ukai’s face, and Takeda felt shame worm its way through every bit of him. Why couldn’t he have had this particular breakdown somewhere less public? 

“I’m not drunk,” Takeda’s voice came out too loud, and he spoke more quietly as he continued. “I’m fine. Besides being incredibly embarrassed, I promise I’m okay.”

Ukai regarded Takeda for a moment before sinking down next to him, his back against the car as well.

“Did something happen?”

“I just had a very stressful phone call.”

“Oh.” Ukai sat quietly for a moment. “Was it your boss?”

“It was one of my students.”

“Did they do something wrong?”

Takeda chewed on his answer for a moment. “I’m not sure,” he finally said.

“That sounds complicated.”

Takeda barked out a laugh, humorless and short. “Yeah they didn’t exactly cover it in macrobiology.”

Ukai smiled and removed the cigarette from behind his ear, turning it over in his fingers a few times before holding it out to Takeda.

“Do you smoke?”

Takeda smiled and took the cigarette from Ukai, holding it in front of his face instead of bringing it to his lips.

“I certainly used to,” Takeda said.

“Do you think it will help?” Ukai asked.

Takeda smiled. “Only one way to find out.”

Ukai held up his lighter to Takeda, who finally brought the cigarette to his mouth. A spark, and a flame danced on top of the lighter, orange in the dark night air. Ukai cupped a hand around it, and Takeda inhaled, feeling warmth from both the smoke and Ukai’s palm only a few centimeters away.

The smoke rushed into Takeda’s lungs, and he let it fill him before it rushed out again, blurring the air before his face in lacy tendrils of white and gray. He took another drag, and then a third. He hadn’t smoked since he was in graduate school, and it felt grounding and familiar. The cigarette smelled like late nights at the library and too many beers and nostalgia, but it also smelled like Ukai. Takeda inhaled deeply and without reservation. 

Takeda didn’t speak until he finally had to ash the cigarette, but as he tapped the filter gently with his thumb he turned to Ukai.

“Thank you,” he said, “I think it did help.”

Ukai smiled and pulled another cigarette out of the pack in his pocket. “Anytime.”

Takeda brought the cigarette back to his lips and inhaled smoke again, his head already a little clearer. He watched Ukai, the darkness making it feel easier to map his face; the way his eyebrows hitched closer together, the ghost of a dimple on one cheek. Ukai looked at him, pupils big in the low light, and Takeda didn’t look away. There was something about Ukai that calmed Takeda, that made him let go of the embarrassment of being discovered like this, made him feel like it was okay to appear a little messy sometimes. 

The cigarette Ukai held was still unlit, and he rolled it between his index and middle fingers slightly. He looked at Takeda for another moment, eyes thoughtful. Then, as if he’d done it a hundred times, Ukai brought the cigarette to his mouth and leaned forward until it just touched the lit tip of Takeda’s. Takeda froze, the filter held firm by both his fingers and his lips, and watched as Ukai inhaled and the tip of his cigarette glowed to life. Then he moved back, as if nothing had happened, and exhaled.

“Are you going to tell me what happened?” Ukai asked.

Takeda swallowed hard, head reeling from both the tobacco and Ukai’s recent  proximity. 

After a long moment he answered. “If a student came to you convinced that they had crossed a line, but from their story you thought it was okay, would you feel it was your responsibility to ask the other person if they actually had?”

Ukai took a drag from his cigarette, eyebrows knitted. “You mean check in with the other person to get their side of it?”

“Yeah,” Takeda answered. 

“I think so,” Ukai said. “I think it’s good to check. Why, Is there a reason not to?”

Takeda took another drag, and was surprised to find he’d already burned his way through most of the cigarette.

“I want to be respectful of my students’ privacy. But I also want to give them the support they need.”

Ukai nodded and made a sound of understanding. The two sat silently for a moment, during which Takeda took a final drag before putting out the butt of his cigarette against the asphalt.

“You’re a really good teacher,” Ukai spoke, surprising Takeda.

Takeda blushed, protesting lightly, “I’m not-“

“No, you are,” Ukai interrupted. “You really care about your students as whole people.”

“I certainly try to.” Takeda looked at the ground. “Sometimes I worry I’m not worthy of them.”

“Nah,” Ukai shook his head. “They’re lucky to have you.”

Takeda blinked hard. “Thank you.”

Ukai nodded. “Sure. To answer your question, I think you should get both sides of it. Better safe than sorry.”

“I think so too,” Takeda said. “Thanks, that was helpful.”

“That’s just the cigarette talking,” Ukai smiled.

“I’m serious! You give good advice.”

Ukai laughed, “that’s quite the compliment, coming from you.”

“You’re very welcome.” Takeda smiled, a thought occurring to him. “Hey, you finally caught me at one.”

“At what?”

“At a bad moment.”

Ukai raised an eyebrow. “You call this a bad moment?”

“Certainly not my best,” Takeda countered.

Ukai laughed again, and leaned back against the car. “If you say so.”

Takeda didn’t answer, instead choosing to lean back against the car as well. His eyes fluttered closed for a moment, and the summer breeze played against his eyelids. They stayed like that for long minutes, the sounds of breathing and the muted noise of the party flowing through the space between them.

“Don’t you have to get back to your party?” Takeda asked without opening his eyes.

“Nah,” Ukai said, prompting Takeda to give Ukai a quizzical look. 

“I’m not big on crowds,” Ukai elaborated, “can I sit with you for another minute?”

“Sure,” Takeda nodded and let his eyes blink shut again. 

The smoke from Ukai’s cigarette smelled sweet, and Takeda breathed it in deeply. The night swirled velvet-soft and warm around them, wrapping the two men at its center.

Chapter Text

It was just after 3:00 pm when Yamaguchi graded the last final. The first years had improved a lot over the semester, and he was glad not to have to hand out as many low scores as he had after the first midterm. He felt sort of peripherally proud of them, even though he’d only sat in the back of the lecture hall and graded exams and homework. Still, it was nice to see how much more they all understood. 

With the semester officially over, the biology building felt oppressively quiet, only the whir of the lights and the footsteps of the odd professor or janitor broke up the silence. Though the finals were graded Yamaguchi found he didn’t want to leave the building, or even Takeda’s office. This was the room he has spent the most time in this semester besides his own, and he felt attached to its faded carpet and dusty windows. It felt empty without the other research assistants or Takeda at his desk, but still it was warm and familiar. When Yamaguchi left that would be it, the semester would be done. 

The work Yamaguchi did over the summer always felt slower to him, mostly because he did it alone. He knew he should be grateful for the opportunity to focus on his research, but all he could think about was how next semester would be the last one where this office would feel like home to him. He couldn’t picture doing this research without Daichi and Kiyoko working by his side. Takeda had hired them the same semester Yamaguchi had started, and it felt like their friendship had defined his grad school experience. Would he be able to replicate that closeness with the next group of research assistants? 

Yamaguchi wasn’t foolish enough to think that Tsukishima would return next semester. Even if he didn’t feel like Yamaguchi had crossed a line, it was unlikely he would want to work together after the way the grad student had acted. Anticipating Tsukishima’s inevitable request to switch to a new research team, Yamaguchi had begun drafting the letter of recommendation Takeda would probably ask him to write. However, he only ever got to the third sentence or so before his stomach clenched with sadness and anxiety and he had to stop. 

Feeling drunk on the particularly potent combination of self destruction and nostalgia which accompanied the end of the semester Yamaguchi opened the letter and stared at the blinking cursor where he’d left off last time. The letter was short and impersonal, almost clinically so.

To XX,

I would like to recommend Tsukishima Kei for the position of research assistant on your team. His dedication and professionalism will be an asset to any team he is on. He is a fast learner and always makes a point to help his teammates and puts in the extra effort to help others without being asked.

But that was where Yamaguchi always had to stop because he started to remember how Tsukishima would sometimes help him take samples for his research when he was done with Takeda’s. How his voice went soft when he double checked measurements with Yamaguchi, how he listened when Yamaguchi rambled about his research or his courses or the grading he had to do. His hands would shake when he thought about Tsukishima staying behind to clean the equipment, how when he pushed up his sleeves the soft hair on his forearms caught the light and his pale fingers turned pink under the hot water.

Steeling himself against the bubble of sadness expanding in his chest, Yamaguchi set his fingers against his keyboard and started writing.

Please don’t be dissuaded from hiring him because of his short tenure on this team, as he isn’t leaving because of any sort of incompetency on his part. He deserves to work on a project that he is passionate about, surrounded by team members who value his contributions. He is a smart and careful worker, and is never hasty with his assessment of his research material. 

Yamaguchi swallowed hard. The letter was starting to feel a little sappy and potentially unprofessional, but he figured he could always go back and edit later.

Tsukishima Kei would be an asset to any team as he is straightforward and honest, and the standard he holds his peers to is matched only by the standard to which he holds himself. Sometimes he struggles to ask for help, but this is only because he expects so much of himself, and he always delivers above and beyond. Any research project would be lucky to have him, and I have enjoyed every moment he has spent working alongside me on this team.

Yamaguchi stopped typing and folded his arms on top of the desk, next to his laptop. That last sentence would probably need to be deleted, because it was really just about Yamaguchi. He was the one who had enjoyed every moment of working with Tsukishima. And he had no one to blame for himself for the fact that they wouldn’t be working together anymore. He sighed and pillowed his head on his arms, reading the letter over again through his lashes. Takeda would probably have some edits, but everything up to the last sentence could probably be worked into something halfway decent. 

Yamaguchi’s eyelids were heavy under the influence of the warm office, and he blinked slowly as the words on his computer blurred before him.

“Don’t leave, Tsukishima,” he muttered into the empty room.

When he opened his eyes again the shadows had shifted, and he jerked up in his chair. The clock on his laptop said it wasn’t yet 4:00, so he hadn’t been asleep for very long. The light coming through the room’s lone window had taken on the warm quality of afternoon. Yamaguchi rolled his shoulders, fully waking up, and uncrossed his arms from the desk. His wrist bumped something cold and he started slightly. An iced coffee sat on the desk next to him, ice cubes still perfectly frozen and condensation beading on the sides. He wheeled around in the desk chair, but found the room as empty as it had been before. What had he been doing before he fell asleep? He remembered writing on his computer. The letter. He was writing a letter of recommendation for Tsukishima. He looked at the open document on his computer. The words filled up almost the entire typed page. Had he written that much already? The last paragraph was in bold, and he squinted past the remaining blur of sleep to read the words.

Tsukishima Kei is many things, but he has never been one to go out of his way to help other people. Any evidence pointing to the contrary is only proof of how much he likes being on this team. Perhaps the only wholly true value listed in the paragraphs above is that he is honest. In that spirit of honesty let it be said that Tsukishima doubts he could ever find another team on which he feels as at home as he does when working next to Yamaguchi Tadashi. In addition, he would most likely never again feel as passionately about coming to work on a project that Yamaguchi was not a part of. This letter was too generous when it said Tsukishima was never hasty, as he recently abandoned all common sense and probably ruined the best thing that happened to him since coming to University, as well as the main reason he has enjoyed every second of being a part of this research project. 

Yamaguchi blinked at the paragraph for a moment, trying to make sense of what it meant. It had clearly been written by Tsukishima, so what did that mean? He’d come in at some point in the last, what, forty minutes? And written this? And left an iced coffee? The embarrassment of Tsukishima reading his sappy letter was quickly being eclipsed by the swelling feeling that he needed to find him. That he needed to find Tsukishima right now and tell him that was being too hard on himself once again. Needed to find him and tell him that seeing him was Yamaguchi’s favorite part of the week, that he was maybe the best thing that had happened during Yamaguchi’s grad school career. 

Without thinking Yamaguchi took a sip from the iced coffee. It was perfect: dark roast with just a splash of milk, hardly diluted by the ice cubes at all. Hardly diluted. He blinked a few times. The ice hadn’t melted yet. He felt like his thoughts were only just starting to move at their normal speed, having been slowed considerably by his unplanned nap. The coffee wasn’t diluted. He stood up so fast that he knocked the desk chair over, but he didn’t stop to right it.

Tsukishima was leaving one of the labs, halfway through zipping up his bag when Yamaguchi found him. Upon discovery he froze, door swinging shut behind him and backpack hanging from his hands. Even from several meters away Yamaguchi could see him swallow.

“Hi,” Yamaguchi said.

“Hi.”

“I read your note.”

Tsukishima grimaced slightly. “Right, I was sort of hoping to be gone by the time you woke up.”

“No I’m glad I-“

“Am I fired?” Tsukishima interrupted. “From the research team, I mean.”

“No!” Yamaguchi shook his head. “No, of course not.”

“Takeda Sensei told me you tried to quit. He wanted to get my side of it to make sure, you know, that I was okay.”

Yamaguchi could feel his face heat up, now it was his turn to grimace. “Well that’s embarrassing.”

“You didn’t, I mean…” Tsukishima trailed off and looked up towards the ceiling for a moment before he spoke again. 

“I’m really sorry that I put pressure on you. You didn’t do anything wrong, and I never would have done it if I thought you… well anyway I’m sorry you were so worried. I just sort of assumed you already knew how I felt but I guess you-“ he looked at the ground and frowned. “It doesn’t really matter at this point, I guess. I’m just really sorry. Writing on your letter of rec was dumb, I just... I’ll ask Takeda about switching to a different project.”

Momentarily speechless, Yamaguchi’s mouth gaped open as he tried to piece together Tsukishima’s half-sentences and apologies. Though he’d found himself temporarily frozen, Tsukishima had wasted no time in walking towards the door, giving the other man a wide berth as he passed him. 

Yamaguchi had never had the best hand-eye coordination. He dropped things all the time, and people knew to never toss him anything as he was liable to not only miss it, but trip himself in the process. He was forever breaking beakers, once so many in a month that Daichi and Kiyoko had begun keeping tally in a designated corner of the whiteboard in Takeda Sensei’s office. This meant that Yamaguchi surprised himself by shooting his right hand back to catch Tsukishima’s left wrist just as he was about to pass out of his reach. He stared at where his hand encircled Tsukishima’s arm, the pad of his index finger against Tsukishima’s racing pulse.

“Um.” Having acted without thinking, Yamaguchi didn’t know what he wanted to say. Tsukishima’s fragmented apology was bouncing around his head, the unfinished sentences ringing in his ears. He wanted to tell Tsukishima not to leave the team, that he had nothing to apologize for, but when he finally found his voice neither of those thoughts came out.

“How do you feel about me?”

Tsukishima let the question fill the air between them for a few moments, then he sneered. “I didn’t think you would be one to add insult to injury.”

Any other time Yamaguchi might have been scared off, but Tsukishima’s staccato pulse against his fingertips urged him on. 

“No, no that’s not what I meant.” Yamaguchi turned so they were facing each other, outstretched arms connected between them. “You said you assumed I knew how you felt. But I don’t. So I’m asking you now: how do you feel about me?”

“I-“ Tsukishima had dropped the sneer and now just looked nervous. “You know.”

“I don’t.”

Tsukishima glanced to the side and exhaled shakily. “I like you. Obviously.”

“Oh,” Yamaguchi felt lightheaded. He tightened his grip on Tsukishima’s wrist.

“Can I go now?” Tsukishima asked, though he made no move to pull his wrist from Yamaguchi’s grasp.

“No,” Yamaguchi answered. There was a bubble of laughter expanding in his chest that was threatening to burst. Tsukishima liked him? Him! It was unbelievable.

“No, you can’t leave,” he repeated. “You absolutely cannot leave”

Tsukishima raised an incredulous eyebrow. “Are you making fun of me?”

“No!” Yamaguchi was laughing now, a smile stretching his face in a way he was sure looked half deranged. “No, no I’m not making fun of you.” He schooled his features into what he hoped was an appropriately serious expression.

Tsukishima rolled his eyes towards the ceiling, “then what-“

“Say it again,” Yamaguchi said. Tsukishima practically choked on his words, both eyebrows shooting towards his hairline.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Yamaguchi tugged Tsukishima forward, and the other man tripped slightly at the unexpected pressure on his wrist. They were closer now, and Yamaguchi could see the dark circles under Tsukishima’s eyes, undoubtedly from late nights spent studying during finals season. He could see where Tsukishima’s lips were a little chapped and where he had a sunburn on his nose that was already fading. His backpack swung at his side, half opened and hanging from his free hand.

“I am deadly serious,” Yamaguchi whispered into the space between them. “Say it again.”

“I-“ Tsukishima glanced to the side and swallowed hard. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Yes I am. Now say it again.”

“I like you.” Tsukishima’s voice was a whisper.

Yamaguchi smiled even harder and pulled on Tsukishima’s wrist again. Their foreheads were practically touching, and Yamaguchi could almost see his reflection in the other man’s glasses. Tsukishima was almost smiling now, something fond and exasperated playing around the corners of his eyes and mouth.

“Again,” Yamaguchi demanded, and this time Tsukishima laughed.

“You cannot be fucking serious,” but the words held no venom. 

Yamaguchi shook his head slightly and released Tsukishima’s wrist only to cup his face, one hand on each pale cheek. Tsukishima stopped laughing, and Yamaguchi watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed. 

“Just one more time.”

“Yamaguchi Tadashi,” Tsukishima said his name like a prayer, “I like you.”

Yamaguchi felt that his smile might split his face in two. “Just making sure.” 

And then he was kissing Tsukishima, his hands in his soft hair and his nose nudging against the bottom of the other man’s glasses. Tsukishima’s arms went around him then, his backpack thudding to the floor and papers spreading across the linoleum. One hand was warm on Yamaguchi’s back and the other was tangled in the hair at the nape of his neck.

Yamaguchi felt drunk on kissing Tsukishima. He’d backed the other man up against the wall, pressed between biology posters against the cool tile he held his face still, his tongue slow and insistent against Tsukishima’s bottom lip, against his teeth, slick and hot and always just a little teasing. Tsukishima’s hands had come to rest on Yamaguchi’s hips, fingers through belt loops to pull him closer and thumbs brushing against the sensitive skin over his hip bones. 

After long moments, minutes, inches of shifting sunlight creeping golden over the hallway floor Tsukishima pulled back; lips swollen, glasses crooked, and breathing ragged. Yamaguchi thought he had never looked better.

“Yamaguchi,” he panted.

“Yes?” Yamaguchi kissed one corner of his mouth.

“I, uh, I think I have to go.”

“Go where?”

Tsukishima glanced off to the side and a coil of anxiety began in Yamaguchi’s stomach. He put his hands in his back pockets and took a half step back, gratefully noting that Tsukishima didn’t remove his hands from where they rested on his waist.

“Um.” Tsukishima worried his lower lip with his teeth and the coil tightened. “I think I have to take a nap.”

The coil snapped. “Huh?”

“It’s just that I’ve only had like seven hours of sleep over the past two days so I’m, you know, a little…”

“Tired?” Yamaguchi supplied.

“You know when you’re so sleep deprived your teeth start chattering?” Tsukishima asked. 

Yamaguchi laughed, his previous anxiety gone. “Yes, I do. Can I give you a ride home?”

Tsukishima sighed and nodded, tugging on Yamaguchi’s belt loops, pulling him in closer.

“I can’t believe I have to go take a nap right now of all times,” Tsukishima grumbled, “it feels very pedestrian.”

Yamaguchi hesitated for a moment, an idea taking shape. “Do you want to nap at my place?

Tsukishima gave him a searching look. “Would that be okay?“

“Of course,” Yamaguchi said. “Then I can make you dinner.”

“Like a date?” Tsukishima cocked an eyebrow, and in response Yamaguchi scrunched up his nose.

“Sounds a little pedestrian when you put it like that,” he replied.

“Shut up Yamaguchi,” Tsukishima laughed.

“Yes, like a date.” Yamaguchi stepped back, and Tsukishima’s arms fell to his sides. Yamaguchi could feel the other man’s eyes on him as he scooped the scattered papers back into Tsukishima’s backpack. He handed it back before gesturing over his shoulder. “I have to grab my computer and lock up, then we can go.”

Tsukishima slung his backpack over one shoulder, a thoughtful look on his face.

“Coming?” Yamaguchi asked.

Tsukishima chewed on the inside of one cheek. “You didn’t say it back,” he finally said. 

“What?”

“I said it three times,” Tsukishima narrowed his eyes, “and you didn’t even say it once.”

Yamaguchi rolled his eyes, but walked back towards Tsukishima to take both of his hands. He raised one, and brought it close to his face.

“I like you,” he breathed against the tendons on the back of Tsukishima’s right hand, pressing his lips against hard knuckles.

“I like you,” he bent slightly to kiss Tsukishima’s left hand, this time on his warm palm. Straightening up, Yamaguchi pulled Tsukishima closer until they stood toe to toe, the fingers of both hands laced at their sides.

“I like you.” He kissed the tip of Tsukishima’s nose. “Now will you come take a nap on my couch?”

Tsukishima smiled, “I’m taking the bed.”

“And you are welcome to it.”

Yamaguchi dropped one of Tsukishima’s hands but held the other one firm, fingers interlocked, and led him out into the July sun.

The sea turtle was hitting a sort of plateau in her recovery. She ate all of her food, and her levels were relatively stable, but she wasn’t getting better. The gashes across her body weren’t knitting themselves back together the way they were supposed to, and she hadn’t regained a full range of motion in her flippers. Saeko assured Ukai that this happened sometimes, that some animals just needed more time to recover from traumatic injuries, but Ukai caught how her mouth twisted with worry before she left the turtle’s room. 

The male turtle had been released a few weeks previously, and Ukai worried that the solitary nature of the turtle room would be bad for recovery, that maybe the loneliness would be demotivating. Or something. He didn’t share this theory with Saeko or Suga because he was pretty sure he would sound insane, but he started coming to work a little earlier and drinking his coffee next to her tank every morning in addition to their usual lunch together. Sometimes he read the news out loud to her, but only the happy stories. 

That morning the only story Ukai deemed cheerful enough for the turtle was about a new advance in carbon capturing technology. Ukai figured it was topical, and even though the turtle couldn’t understand she would probably appreciate the sentiment. It was Tuesday, and Ukai felt he had finally recovered from the housewarming party the Friday before. Saturday he had woken up with the sort of almost-hangover that stuck with him until that evening, throbbing right at the base of his skull. Upon cleaning up the debris of the party Ukai had discovered a small grouping of gifts on his side table, which was unexpected and made something warm clench in his chest. He’d never gotten housewarming gifts before. 

There were three bottles of liquor, all much nicer than Ukai would ever buy for himself. There was a squat, sea-blue coffee mug from Saeko and a potted fern from her brother. And behind the fern, in a slightly crinkled gift bag, was a wooden bookend. By some unlucky coincidence the tag on the gift bag had been pressed into the damp side of the potted fern, so the note was smudged beyond recognition. 

The bookend was beautiful. Just a few shades darker than the stain he’d chosen for the bookcase and so masterfully carved it practically glowed, Ukai felt bad he didn’t have more books to prop up with it. 

Despite repeated squinting at the ruined tag Ukai couldn’t figure out what it said, but he had a sort of theory about who it was from. It was more hope than theory, but he half-remembered a conversation with Takeda about building a set of shelves. And Takeda was the kind of person to remember those things. But Ukai was self-aware enough to know that he had other reasons to want to believe that his favorite gift was from Takeda, so he tempered his expectations. He had entertained the idea of bringing it up in front of him when he visited with the undergrads in order to see what he’d say. But he realized on Monday that the semester was over, and there was no reason for Takeda to visit every week the way he had before.

Now, early Tuesday afternoon, Ukai found himself making every task take as long as possible. The week stretched out towards the horizon, feeling longer than he could ever remember it feeling before. He mopped every floor twice, and triple checked every item on the inventory list, but still the bulk of the day was before him. It had only been a month since the summer solstice, but Ukai thought the afternoon sky didn’t look quite as bright as it had in June. Like the quality of light had changed, as if he were looking at the sky through a screen door. The air was sticky as Ukai cleaned what had previously been the dolphin’s pool. 

A news alert about several animals being removed from the endangered species list due to conservation efforts had lit up his phone two hours before, and he planned on reading it to the turtle when he took his next break. Ukai had the story pulled up on his phone as he entered the room, but was stopped short by the sight of Saeko leaning over the tank. Her face was pensive, and Ukai’s stomach dropped.

“Tanaka-san?” 

She looked up. “Has the turtle had any trouble finishing her meals over the past few days?”

“No, none.” Ukai clenched his hands to stop them from shaking. He had left lunch a little earlier to make sure that the stingray pups were fed on time, and before he had a chance to double back and check on her Saeko had asked him to help with inventory. Since the turtle had finished her food just fine on her own for the past few weeks so he hadn’t thought twice about it, but now he stared down at almost half of the fish he'd put in earlier still floating around the turtle’s resting form.

“That’s what I assumed,” Saeko sighed. “I need to run some tests to see what’s going on.”

“What do you think is wrong?” Ukai’s voice sounded rough even to him, and he was grateful that Saeko didn’t comment on it.

“Most likely she got another infection,” she said. “That would be pretty treatable, however-“ Saeko trailed off

Ukai felt the unfinished sentence loom over the turtle’s tank. “What’s the other possibility?”

Saeko puffed her cheeks before blowing out a slow breath. “The medications she's on may have just stopped being as effective. And if that’s the case it opens her up for more complications going forward. This also might not just be one thing, it can be hard to know.”

“If it’s both, does that mean treating the infection will be harder?” Ukai asked.

Saeko nodded, making a face. “It would slow down all parts of her recovery.”

Ukai swallowed, his throat dry. “Slow it down by how much?”

“Hard to say,” Saeko said. “I thought she would be further along by now. It could be another month, if not longer.”

Ukai knew that the part Saeko wasn’t saying was that after everything the turtle might not recover at all, that this could be the beginning of the end. With this setback she wouldn’t be back in the ocean in time for her eggs to hatch. And she wouldn’t be meeting the other deadline Ukai had set for her either: recovering in time for him to make a decision about Kyoto. He knew he had to decide soon, so he could give Saeko a two weeks notice and get back in time to be ready for the reopening. 

He couldn’t really picture being in Kyoto while the turtle was still fighting to get better, couldn’t imagine slipping back into his old life without knowing she was okay. But that didn’t really feel like a good enough reason to stay. Neither did the way his apartment was starting to feel warm and inviting now that his furniture was done and he’d finally hung a few prints on the walls. He was building a cat tree for Sock that would match his living room, but he figured that could move with him. He might have to leave the bookshelf he built behind, as it was pretty big and might be too expensive to move. But he could take the few books on it and the bookend with him to his next place. If he left, that was.

Ukai finished his work later than usual, as after every task he went to ask Saeko if she'd figured out what was wrong with the turtle and then hovered over her desk after she replied, once again, that she likely wouldn’t know until Wednesday. A little before 7:00, when Ukai had checked everything three times and could think of nothing else to do, he found himself pacing in front of the turtle’s pool, looking in at every pass. He thought maybe she was moving around a little less than usual, like she was in more pain than before. He brought his face closer to the water, and the light bouncing off the ripples on the surface expanded in his field of vision. The shape of the turtle wavered beyond them, dark and distant under the water.

“You gotta fight mama,” he whispered into the tank. “You’ve come this far, you can’t give up.”

The door scraped open and Ukai straightened, face heating at the thought he might have been overheard. Saeko stood in the doorway, her face unreadable.

“Why are you still here? Suga went home hours ago, I thought you did too.”

“Did you figure out-“

“The results of the tests won’t be ready until tomorrow, and even then we’ll only know if I guessed correctly and tested for the right things.”

Ukai nodded. She’d told him that same thing all afternoon, and Ukai was grateful that she wasn’t irritated that he kept asking. 

“She’s stable,” Saeko said. “You don’t have to worry about anything happening overnight.”

“Right.” Ukai studied the floor.

“Are you ready to go yet, Saeko?” A familiar voice floated down the hall, and Ukai only had a moment to prepare himself before Takeda appeared in the doorway next to Saeko. He nodded to Ukai in greeting, then turned to raise an eyebrow at Saeko.

“Do you always keep your employees this late?”

Saeko scowled. “I didn’t realize he was still here.”

“Sorry boss,” Ukai smiled. “I’m headed out now.”

“Did you want to come with us?” Takeda asked. “We’re going to grab a drink, you’re welcome to come.”

“Oh, uh,” Ukai paused. He wanted to go. Wanted to go sit and let the day be overwritten by their laughter. Wanted to drink one beer too many and get caught staring at Takeda’s smile for too long, because he knew Takeda would never call him on it. But the decision of whether or not to take the job in Kyoto still churned in his stomach, and Ukai thought that if he had to sit across from Takeda with that choice pressed against the roof of his mouth the guilt might just drown him.

“Unfortunately I really need to go feed Sock,” Ukai looked down. “Thank you for the invitation, though.”

“Of course,” Takeda smiled. “Next time.”

Ukai nodded but didn’t say anything.

“I’m sorry to hear the turtle’s going through a rough patch,” Takeda offered. Ukai looked up.

“She’ll be okay.” He wasn’t sure why he was suddenly defensive over the turtle, but it felt like if he acknowledged that not only was she sick but he was worried about her then it really would be the beginning of the end.

“Of course she will,” Takeda smiled, “she’s a fighter.”

Ukai laughed, “yeah she’s a real scrapper.”

“Does that mean you’re finally going home?” Saeko asked.

“Can’t leave Sock waiting,” Ukai replied.

“We wouldn’t want that,” Takeda raised a hand in farewell. “Have a nice night, Ukai. Nice to see you.”

“You too,” Ukai said. He weighed his next words carefully, finally deciding that he could pass it off as thanking Saeko again if he was wrong.

“Thank you for the housewarming gift,” he directed his words to the space between Saeko and Takeda.

Takeda looked down, his face coloring slightly. “You’re welcome.” Bingo.

“It’s beautiful.” This Ukai directed to Takeda, who had become very interested in the floor.

“I’m glad you liked it.”

Ukai nodded, cataloging the way Takeda’s ears turned slightly pink. 

“I really did,” he said. After another moment he managed to pull his gaze away from Takeda to look at Saeko. “I can lock up.”

“Thanks,” she said, tossing him the keys. “I got the lab already, so you only have to do this building. See you tomorrow.”

Ukai nodded and watched Takeda and Saeko leave. He took one last look at the turtle before patting the side of her pool and beginning to lock up. He tested every door twice before finally locking the front door and putting the keys in the lock box by the laboratory.

Sock the cat was less than pleased with Ukai’s late arrival, but seemed mollified by dinner. Ukai ate a few bites from a container of cold leftovers before settling on the couch with some of his housewarming sake. Settling his back against a throw pillow, he stretched his legs out across the cushions. After a few minutes Sock settled on his lap, curling into a warm, purring ball before falling asleep. Ukai sipped his drink slowly and looked across his apartment into his kitchen. He could see the time glowing red on the microwave, and he watched as the numbers changed.

His indecision on the job in Kyoto seemed to fill the room. The problem was Ukai didn’t quite know what he wanted. All he knew was that the idea of leaving Karasuno and everything that came with it made him feel hollow right at the place where his ribs ended. But there was no single thing that he could hold onto as a reason to stay. It seemed so obvious that the right choice was to go back to Kyoto, but then why didn’t that feel right? Was it okay to stay not for one big thing, but for all the little things? Is that what it meant to be home, that every little piece felt just a little bit more comfortable than anywhere else did? That the joints slid home and the structure stood tall, all the angles at ninety degrees and every surface sanded to a soft shine? He wasn’t sure.

Ukai didn’t remember falling asleep, but he was woken up by the pinprick of Sock’s claws on his leg as the cat jumped to the floor. There was an ache in Ukai’s neck from sleeping on the couch and his empty sake glass was on the floor by the couch. He found the microwave clock, the numbers wavering in front of his sleep-fogged eyes, and watched them change from 11:59 to 12:00.