Archive of Our Own ^beta

Tsukishima Kei was not an impulsive person. He planned things carefully, considered his options, and always had a backup plan. So when it came to moving to Tokyo for college, he had assumed everything would go smoothly. He'd find an apartment, sign a lease, and settle in like a normal person. Simple.

Except it wasn't.

Tokyo's rental market was a nightmare. Every decent apartment was either too expensive, too small, or snatched up before he could even inquire about it. A month before the university starts, he was dangerously close to admitting defeat. 

"It's ridiculous." He muttered into his phone, rubbing his temple as he spoke to Akaashi. "Everything is either overpriced, a literal closet, or already taken."

He and Akaashi had grown close since the first-year training camp, their similarly calm natures making them natural allies amidst the chaos of Bokuto and Kuroo. While those two had graduated, Akaashi had entered his third year just as Tsukishima started his second, meaning they had spent another year—and several training camps—together.

Not that Kuroo and Bokuto had let distance be a problem. They had made sure to stay in touch, spamming Tsukishima's phone with messages, organizing monthly video calls, and even showing up to Karasuno's important matches. It was an effort Tsukishima would never admit he appreciated.

"At this rate, I'll end up sleeping on the streets. Or worse, stuck in Miyagi at some local college."

Akaashi, ever composed, hummed in thought. "You could stay on a spare futon at my place for a while if it comes to that. Bokuto and Kuroo would probably offer, too. At least until you find something."

"Great, house-hopping." Tsukishima deadpanned. "And where am I supposed to keep all my stuff?" Still, he sighed, his voice softer. "Thanks, though."

"It's not ideal, but it's better than giving up on Tokyo, right?"

"I guess."

"I'll ask around at school—maybe one of my classmates knows of a vacancy."

Tsukishima let out a slow exhale. "That would help. Thanks, Akaashi."

The next day, however, he received a call that did anything but ease his concerns.

"Don't worry, Tsukki, we got this!" Bokuto's voice boomed through the receiver, full of unshakable confidence. "We'll find the perfect place for you! You have to come to Tokyo!"

"You really don't have to—"

"No, no, no, you'll thank us later." Kuroo cut in smoothly, and of course, he and Bokuto were together. "We'll take care of everything."

Akaashi was the only one who sounded remotely reasonable. "We'll send you the details later. Just trust us."

And like an idiot, he had.

A few days later, a message arrived. They had found a place—affordable, close to his university, and super spacious. It sounded too good to be true. Because it was.

Fast forward to today, standing in front of the address they had sent him, Tsukishima realized that trusting them had been his first mistake.

The building in front of him was massive. Not a dingy, cramped apartment tucked into some alleyway like he had expected, but a modern, high-rise complex. The kind of place that looked far out of his budget. Scowling, he double-checked the address on his phone.

This had to be a mistake.

Dragging his suitcase behind him, he reluctantly made his way inside, taking the elevator up to the designated floor. The moment the doors slid open, he was greeted by an all-too-familiar voice.

"TSUKKI!"

Before he could react, Bokuto launched himself forward, grabbing him in a suffocating hug.

"Took you long enough! Welcome home!"

Tsukishima shoved him off with an irritated sigh. "Don't touch me."

Kuroo was leaning against the doorframe of the apartment, smirking like he had just pulled off the greatest prank of the century. "Nice place, huh?"

Akaashi, ever the composed one, gave him a small nod. "Welcome, Tsukishima."

Tsukishima pinched the bridge of his nose, already feeling a headache forming. "This is… not what I was expecting."

"Oh? What were you expecting?" Kuroo asked innocently.

"Something normal. Small. Not… whatever this is." He gestured vaguely at the spacious living room visible behind them. "How the hell am I supposed to afford this?"

Bokuto beamed. "Oh, we're splitting rent."

A beat of silence.

Tsukishima blinked. "We?"

Kuroo grinned. "Surprise! We'll live here too."

Another beat of silence.

"…You're joking."

"Nope."

Tsukishima stared at them, waiting for someone to reveal the punchline. Akaashi, at least, had the decency to look mildly apologetic. Bokuto and Kuroo, on the other hand, were radiating excitement.

"I'm sorry. I told them the idea was stupid, but… splitting the rent means I pay less than I do now, and the place is much nicer and closer to my university. It made sense." Akaashi explained why he had gone along with the plan. "They made me promise not to tell you."

"We wanted to surprise you!" Bokuto grinned happily, ignoring Tsukishima's scowl.

Tsukishima exhaled sharply, muttering under his breath, "I should've just commuted."

But deep down, a tiny part of him—the part that had never admitted he actually enjoyed their company—was already resigning itself to the inevitable chaos that was about to unfold.

And so, it began.

Tsukishima hauled his luggage into the room the others had shown him—then froze.

"Oh no." He turned around slowly, dread settling in his stomach.

Kuroo leaned against the doorframe, smirking like he had been waiting for this moment. "Yeah, so… there are only two bedrooms. Which means we've gotta decide who's bunking with whom."

Tsukishima's answer came instantly. "I'm sharing with Akaashi." The alternative—being stuck with either Bokuto or Kuroo—was unthinkable. "Otherwise, there'll be casualties before the day is over."

Akaashi nodded, looking just as relieved. "That's probably for the best." He had no interest in dealing with the energy levels of the other two either.

Kuroo turned to Bokuto, grinning. "You know what this means?"

Bokuto's eyes lit up. "Bro."

"Bro!"

The two of them practically launched themselves into each other's arms, dramatically celebrating their fate. Meanwhile, Tsukishima and Akaashi stood to the side, watching in silent judgment.

Akaashi let out a long sigh. "I'm not sure if putting them in the same room is actually better."

Tsukishima crossed his arms, unimpressed. "It's definitely not."

And so, the chaos began.

Tsukishima set to work unpacking his suitcase, neatly folding his clothes and placing them in the dresser on his side of the room. Apparently, the others had already bought or repurposed furniture, meaning he had to transfer them his share of the costs—something he would definitely hold against them later.

Once he finished, he pulled out his phone and dialed Yamaguchi's number. He had promised to keep him updated, and this definitely seemed like something he'd want to hear about.

"Tsukki!" Yamaguchi's face lit up on the screen, his usual bright smile in place. "Did you make it? How's the apartment? Did the others find you a good place?"

"More or less." Tsukishima muttered. "The apartment itself is fine, but… I have roommates." His voice dripped with irritation.

Yamaguchi stifled a laugh, covering his mouth. "Oh boy. That has to be a nightmare. Are they at least nice?"

"Worse."

Still holding his phone, Tsukishima got up and made his way to the living room. With a sigh, he switched to the back camera, giving Yamaguchi a perfect view of the disaster zone he was now forced to live in.

Kuroo and Bokuto were currently wrestling on the couch, limbs tangled as they rolled onto the floor with a loud thud. Meanwhile, Akaashi sat in an armchair, calmly sipping his tea and watching them with the disinterest of someone who had long since stopped questioning their antics.

Tsukishima's eye twitched. "These are my roommates. All of them."

Yamaguchi burst into laughter, loud enough to catch the attention of the others.

Kuroo perked up. "Hey there, Captain!" He smirked as he strolled over—then, without warning, snatched the phone right out of Tsukishima's hand.

In their third year, Yamaguchi had been named Karasuno's new captain. Honestly, out of the remaining team members, he had been the best choice.

"Kuroo-san!" Yamaguchi greeted, still chuckling. "Take care of Tsukki, okay? And don't let his gruff—"

"Shut up, Yamaguchi!" Tsukishima snapped, snatching his phone back before his friend could finish.

Yamaguchi just grinned. "Sorry, Tsukki."

Kuroo, utterly unfazed, snickered. "Some things never change." With that, he turned back toward the couch and dramatically flopped right on top of Bokuto, sending the latter into another fit of laughter.

Yamaguchi shook his head. "Well, looks like you've got your hands full. I'll let you get back to… bonding with your new roommates." His voice dripped with amusement. "But keep me updated, yeah?"

"Mhm." Tsukishima hummed noncommittally before muttering a quick goodbye and hanging up.

This was going to be a nightmare.

Adjusting to life with three other people was, predictably, a disaster.

Tsukishima had expected some level of inconvenience—living with Kuroo and Bokuto made that inevitable—but he hadn't quite prepared for this. He had always been an early riser, waking up with enough time to get ready in peace before facing the world. What he hadn't accounted for was the war zone that was their shared bathroom in the mornings.

The first day, he had just stepped out of his room when the bathroom door slammed open, and Bokuto came barreling out, a towel around his neck, his hair still dripping.

"Akaashi!" he called dramatically. "Did you see my hair gel? I swear I put it—oh! Morning, Tsukki!"

Tsukishima, very much not in the mood, just scowled as he tried to push past. But before he could claim the bathroom for himself, Kuroo appeared out of nowhere, toothbrush hanging from his mouth.

"Oh, perfect timing, Tsukki." He grinned, voice muffled by the toothpaste foam. "You wanna settle an argument? Bokuto thinks his hair looks best with extra hold gel, but I'm telling him, he should go for—"

"Move."

"Wow. Someone's grumpy."

Bokuto pouted. "I think he's mad because we forgot to tell him we don't have a shower schedule."

Akaashi, who had just walked out of the kitchen with a cup of tea, sighed. "Which is exactly why I wake up before all of you."

Tsukishima mentally cursed himself for not thinking of that sooner.

Cooking was another issue. Akaashi was the only competent cook in the apartment, meaning he usually handled dinner—when Bokuto and Kuroo weren't insisting on "helping."

The first night, Tsukishima had been sitting at the kitchen counter, trying to tune them out, when he heard:

"Wait, Bokuto, no—don't pour the whole bottle in—!"

A split second later, there was a hiss of oil splattering, a clang of a pan being yanked off the stove, and Bokuto's sheepish, "Uh… my bad?"

Tsukishima exhaled sharply. "I'm ordering takeout."

Akaashi, looking utterly exhausted, just nodded. "Good call."

To make matters worse, they all had completely different eating habits.

Akaashi liked simple, well-balanced meals.

Bokuto ate constantly, treating every meal like he was fueling up for a marathon while adding lots of proteins to every meal.

Kuroo had the most chaotic diet Tsukishima had ever seen—some days he was making elaborate protein shakes, other days he was eating instant noodles straight from the pot at 2 AM.

And Tsukishima? He just wanted to eat in peace, without someone asking him if he wanted a bite of their latest culinary disaster.

Another problem was sleeping. 

Tsukishima tried to go to bed early. He really did. Unfortunately, he lived with Bokuto and Kuroo—which meant peace and quiet was impossible. The first night, just as he was about to drift off, a loud thud came from the living room. Followed by:

"Rematch! Best two out of three!"

Tsukishima yanked his pillow over his head. "Shut up!"

"Sorry, Tsukki!" Bokuto called back, not sounding sorry at all.

Akaashi, already in bed on the other side of the room, sighed. "They'll stop eventually."

"Or I'll kill them first."

"Mm. Tempting, but I need them alive for volleyball."

Tsukishima groaned. He had a feeling sleep was going to become a rare luxury in this household.

After a week of barely surviving in shared chaos, they realized something had to change.

Akaashi, unsurprisingly, was the first to suggest rules.

"We need a system," he said one evening, setting down a notebook on the kitchen counter like it was some kind of sacred text.

Tsukishima, arms crossed, leaned against the fridge. "You think those two will actually follow a system?"

He gestured toward Kuroo and Bokuto, who were currently engaged in a very intense, very unnecessary rock-paper-scissors battle.

"Hey, I can be organized!" Kuroo protested.

"No, you can delegate." Tsukishima deadpanned.

Bokuto perked up. "Wait, do I have to follow rules too?"

Akaashi sighed. "Yes, Bokuto."

With a lot of negotiating (and threatening), they finally came up with a few non-negotiable rules:

1. Bathroom Schedule (or else someone dies)

Akaashi, knowing Tsukishima's limits, made sure he got the first shower slot in the mornings. Kuroo and Bokuto would rotate who went last, since both of them took forever doing their hair.

2. Cooking Rotations (to prevent food-related crimes)

• Akaashi would still handle most of the actual cooking.
• Tsukishima could cook for himself (and only himself).
• Kuroo and Bokuto were strictly on prep duty after they almost set the stove on fire again.

Kuroo tried to argue that Bokuto should be banned from the kitchen altogether. Bokuto countered by saying that Kuroo's protein shakes were more of a crime than his cooking. Akaashi shut them both up with one look.

3. Noise Curfew (for the sake of Tsukishima's sanity)

No more 2 AM wrestling matches. No more Kuroo's late-night experiments in "scientific cooking."

"If I hear you idiots past midnight," Tsukishima warned, "I will throw your mattresses out the window."

Bokuto gasped. "Not my mattress!"

Akaashi, nodding, wrote down: Tsukishima has full rights to murder if the noise rule is broken.

4. No Stealing Food (especially Tsukishima's snacks)

The first time Kuroo stole Tsukishima's pudding from the fridge, Tsukishima had responded by putting wasabi inside Kuroo's next meal. A warning.

The second time, he had swapped Kuroo's sugar with salt.

After the third time, Akaashi intervened and implemented the "If it's labeled, don't touch it" rule.

Kuroo still tried to test the limits. He failed every time.

Once the rules were in place, things actually started running more smoothly. Mornings were no longer a war zone. Tsukishima could finally shower without someone knocking on the door demanding to know where their hair gel was. Mealtime was less of a disaster. Bokuto learned how to properly chop vegetables (mostly). Kuroo stopped experimenting with questionable recipes (mostly). Tsukishima got more sleep. Sure, Bokuto and Kuroo still got overexcited sometimes, but at least they weren't having full-blown competitions at midnight anymore.

Even Tsukishima had to admit—living together was… tolerable. He found himself not hating it.

But there were still bigger changes to come. 

It had started as a normal night. Akaashi and Tsukishima were at the dining table, both hunched over their textbooks. Bokuto and Kuroo had been watching TV, but after getting bored (which happened too fast), they somehow ended up sprawled across the floor, playing some card game they had just made up. Tsukishima was deep in his notes when a cup of coffee appeared in front of him. He glanced up to see Akaashi setting down another one next to his own.

"You've been staring at that page for ten minutes," Akaashi said simply before returning to his own work.

Tsukishima hesitated, then muttered, "Thanks."

Akaashi just hummed in response.

It was so normal—like they had always done this. Like Akaashi just knew when he needed a break without him saying a word. And for some reason, that realization made Tsukishima's chest feel tight.

One evening, Tsukishima had retreated to the balcony for some peace. It had been one of those days—lectures that felt endless, a crowded train ride home, Kuroo and Bokuto being particularly loud. He just needed some quiet.

He was leaning against the railing, watching the city lights, when he heard the sliding door open behind him.

Bokuto.

For a second, Tsukishima braced himself for noise. But when Bokuto stepped next to him, he didn't say anything. He just stood there. 

After a few moments, Bokuto let out a deep sigh, his usual high energy nowhere to be found. "Long day?" he asked.

Tsukishima glanced at him, surprised. Bokuto wasn't looking at him, just gazing out over the city. He exhaled. "Yeah."

Bokuto hummed in understanding. Then, after a pause, he said, "Sometimes I forget how nice quiet can be."

Tsukishima blinked. He had never heard Bokuto talk like this before. And for some reason, that made him really want to keep this moment. So he didn't say anything—just stood next to him, letting the silence stretch between them.

It was… nice.

One night, Tsukishima was lying awake, staring at the ceiling. He wasn't even sure why—maybe stress, maybe just overthinking. Either way, sleep wasn't happening. After a while, he sighed and got up, heading to the kitchen for some water. To his surprise, Kuroo was already there, sitting on the counter, nursing a cup of tea.

He looked up. "Couldn't sleep either?"

Tsukishima just grunted in response, grabbing a glass.

Kuroo smirked. "Wanna talk about it?"

"No."

"Cool, cool. Wanna sit in comfortable silence, pretending like this is normal?"

Tsukishima rolled his eyes but sat down anyway.

Kuroo didn't push him to talk. He just sat there, sipping his tea. And somehow, just sitting there, not alone, made everything feel a little lighter.

But the biggest change happened in the most unexpected way.

They were all sitting on the couch, some random movie playing in the background.

Kuroo was leaning against one armrest, absentmindedly twirling a pen between his fingers. Akaashi was half-asleep, head resting on his hand. Bokuto had stretched out across them all, draping his legs over Tsukishima's lap like it was the most natural thing in the world. 

And Tsukishima, instead of shoving him off immediately, just let it happen.

At some point, Akaashi sighed, adjusting his position. "We should go to bed soon."

"Mhm," Tsukishima agreed.

But none of them moved. Tsukishima looked around at the three of them, warmth curling in his chest in a way he wasn't ready to admit. He had expected chaos when they moved in together. He had expected annoyance, frustration, sleepless nights. But he hadn't expected this.

He hadn't expected to feel at home. And that thought scared him just a little. Because he was starting to think that maybe—just maybe—he didn't want this to end.

Tsukishima had never been one for unnecessary emotions.

Feelings were inconvenient. Messy. They complicated things that didn't need to be complicated. And yet — Somehow, his life had become nothing but complicated.

It had started with all the little things.

Like how he always noticed when Akaashi was too tired to cook and found himself silently taking over without complaint. Or how he'd roll his eyes at Kuroo's dumb jokes, but secretly caught himself waiting for them. Or how Bokuto's loud presence, which should have been insufferable, had become… weirdly comforting.

And then, of course, there were the moments he didn't know what to do with. One evening, Tsukishima walked into the living room and found Akaashi curled up on the couch, fast asleep. His book was still open in his lap, his glasses slightly askew. His face looked peaceful, his usually sharp features softened in sleep.

Tsukishima stared for a second longer than necessary before sighing.

He carefully plucked the glasses from Akaashi's face and set them aside. Then, after some hesitation, he grabbed the throw blanket from the couch and draped it over him. Akaashi stirred slightly, brow furrowing for a moment before relaxing again. Tsukishima stepped back.

And then Kuroo's voice came from behind him. "Ohhh, what's this? Tsukki being sweet?"

Tsukishima tensed. "Shut up."

Kuroo smirked. "Don't worry, I won't tell. But man… you're kind of obvious."

Tsukishima scowled. "I don't know what you're talking about."

But as he stalked off, his heart was pounding just a little too hard. It was late. Tsukishima had been up studying, and by the time he made it back to the living room, Kuroo was sitting on the floor, absentmindedly scrolling through his phone.

Tsukishima was about to leave when Kuroo spoke. "You should get some sleep, you know."

Tsukishima blinked. "You too."

Kuroo chuckled. "Fair point." He looked up, something unreadable in his expression. "You okay, though?"

Tsukishima hesitated. "I'm fine."

"You say that, but you look like your brain is going a million miles per hour."

Tsukishima clicked his tongue. "And you look like you need to mind your own business."

Kuroo grinned. "Sure, sure." But he didn't push. He just sat there, comfortable in the silence, waiting.

And somehow, that made Tsukishima feel more seen than anything else.

Tsukishima had been half-asleep on the couch, mind hazy from a long day, when he felt something warm press against his shoulder. He cracked one eye open and immediately regretted it. Bokuto had completely collapsed against him, his head resting against Tsukishima's shoulder like it was perfectly normal.

Tsukishima stiffened. "You're heavy."

Bokuto hummed sleepily. "You're comfy."

Tsukishima opened his mouth to shove him off—but didn't. Because, for some insane reason, he didn't actually mind. And that realization hit him harder than it should have.

Tsukishima didn't know when it happened. He didn't know how it happened.

But one day, he woke up, walked into the kitchen, saw Kuroo flipping pancakes while Bokuto tried (and failed) to set the table, saw Akaashi brewing coffee with the same calm precision he did every morning—And it hit him like a goddamn freight train.

He cared about them.

Not just in the I tolerate you because I have to way.

In the I notice the little things about you way.
In the I feel lighter when you're around way.
In the I don't want this to ever change way.

And that? That was terrifying.

Tsukishima had always prided himself on being logical. Rational. The type to keep his emotions in check. So when he finally understood what was happening—what he was feeling—his first instinct was to deny it. Because it wasn't just one person. It wasn't some neat, simple crush. It wasn't something he could shove into a box, lock away, and forget about.

It was Bokuto, with his blinding, infectious energy that made it impossible to stay unaffected.
It was Kuroo, with his stupid, knowing smirks and the way he always pushed just enough, never too much.
It was Akaashi, steady and sharp, the one person who could see straight through him without even trying.

And Tsukishima was—what? In love with all of them? No. That was ridiculous. Impossible. But the thought wouldn't leave him alone. And it irritated him.

Tsukishima found himself hyper-aware of every little thing they did.

The way Kuroo would lean in too close when he was talking, grinning like he knew something.
The way Bokuto would light up every time Tsukishima showed the slightest bit of interest in his stories.
The way Akaashi would meet his eyes across the room and nod, like they were the only two sane people in the house.

It was annoying.

It was unnerving.

It was—nothing.

(If he told himself that enough times, maybe he'd believe it.)

So, naturally, he did what he always did when confronted with something uncomfortable. He avoided them. Or at least, he tried to. But it was impossible to ignore Bokuto's crestfallen expression when Tsukishima stopped sitting next to him on the couch. It was impossible to ignore Kuroo's knowing looks, like he was waiting for him to crack. It was impossible to ignore Akaashi's quiet understanding, the way he never asked, just watched.

And worst of all— It was impossible to ignore how wrong it felt. To pull away. To create distance. Because the truth was, he didn't want distance. He wanted—

God, he didn't even know what he wanted.

Before he could think about what to do, he felt something else coming on: first a sore throat, then a pounding headache. By the time he woke up the next morning, he was burning with fever. Great. Just great.

He groaned, trying to convince himself to get out of bed, but his body refused to cooperate. His head felt too heavy, his limbs too weak. With a resigned sigh, he pulled the blanket over his head, hoping to sleep through it. He only let Akaashi know he wouldn't be going to university today because he wasn't feeling well. He hoped the others would keep their distance while he was sick, not wanting to catch anything. At least he could sort his thoughts this way, trying to figure out how to spend time with them without falling even deeper for them than he already had.

But, of course, that didn't happen. By the time noon rolled around, Tsukishima's phone buzzed relentlessly.

The first text was from Kuroo: "Tsukki! I swear, if you're still alive in there, answer your phone!"

Then came Bokuto: "TSUKKI, YOU OKAY? YOU NEED ME TO COME OVER AND BRING YOU SOUP?!"

And finally, Akaashi: "Tsukishima, don't ignore us. Let us know if you need anything."

Tsukishima rolled his eyes, turning off his phone and shoving it under his pillow. He didn't need anyone coming in here to fuss over him. He didn't need their attention. But despite his annoyance, the warmth in his chest wasn't from the fever. It was something else. Something that made him feel… almost happy about the attention.

By the time Kuroo barged into his room, it was well past three in the afternoon. "Tsukki, are you really planning on staying in bed all day?" Kuroo asked, voice too cheerful for someone with a fever. "We're getting you up and moving. You're gonna drink this soup, okay?"

"I'm fine." Tsukishima's voice came out in a weak rasp, and he winced at how pathetic it sounded. He attempted to sit up but immediately regretted it as dizziness spun through his head.

"Oh no you're not."

Tsukishima blinked, still too groggy to fully register what was happening when Kuroo pushed him back into the bed, then disappeared into the kitchen. 

Seconds later, Bokuto burst in, holding a steaming bowl of soup in his hands like he'd just won a medal. "Soup's here! Akaashi said it's the best for fevers!" Bokuto grinned, settling on the edge of the bed, completely unbothered by the sick person's protests. "Come on, Tsukki, drink it! You need to get better so we can play together again!"

Tsukishima barely held back the instinct to slap the spoon out of his hand. He didn't want the damn soup. He didn't want to be babied. But the moment Bokuto sat down beside him, his usual cheerful grin fading slightly when Tsukishima made no move to take the bowl, Tsukishima felt something stir in his chest.

For once, he didn't snap at Bokuto. Instead, he sighed. "Fine. Whatever."

Bokuto grinned again and handed him the spoon. "Good boy!"

The moment he said it, Tsukishima felt heat rush to his face. He cursed inwardly. No way in hell was he blushing from that. And yet, somehow, there he was, accepting the spoonful from Bokuto like it was just another part of the routine.

A few hours later, Akaashi entered the room quietly, as he always did, with that composed, calm demeanor that immediately set him apart from the other two.

He placed a cup of tea on the nightstand beside Tsukishima. "I made you something with honey and ginger," Akaashi said, his eyes softening a little as he looked at Tsukishima's flushed face. "It should help with the sore throat."

Tsukishima didn't know why, but something about Akaashi's simple act of care made him feel so exposed. He hated that the other man could read him so easily, could tell just from his expression that he was too tired and uncomfortable to push back any longer.

"You don't have to do this." Tsukishima muttered, though the words were barely audible.

"I know." Akaashi said, his voice calm, but not dismissive. "But I want to."

"Tsukishima looked at him, then at Kuroo, and finally at Bokuto, who had followed Akaashi into the room. They were all here, in his space, acting like it was just a normal day, even though Tsukishima had been trying to push them away for the past week.

And for some reason, Tsukishima's chest tightened. He wanted them here. He wanted to let them take care of him. He wanted— But then, something snapped. It wasn't even one specific thing.

It was the way Kuroo gave him that look. The one that said he knew exactly what Tsukishima was thinking. It was the way Bokuto leaned in closer and tried to hand him another spoonful of soup, his eyes gleaming with a little too much enthusiasm. It was the way Akaashi just knew, always knew, what Tsukishima needed, and yet still didn't ask.

All of it, together, hit him like a wave.

"Stop!" Tsukishima suddenly snapped, voice breaking on the word. "Just—just stop!"

The room went quiet.

Tsukishima stood up too quickly, his dizziness making him stumble, but he didn't care. His heart was pounding in his chest, his breaths coming too fast. "I don't need this," he spat, his words raw. "I don't need any of this!"

They all stared at him, confusion and concern flooding their faces.

"Tsukki—"

"No." Tsukishima's voice was harsh, cutting through the air like a blade. "I didn't ask for your attention. I didn't ask for you to keep treating me like a damn child!"

Kuroo's expression shifted, anger flashing in his eyes. "Tsukishima, what the hell—"

But before he could say anything else, Tsukishima spun around, rushing toward the door.

"Where are you going?" Akaashi asked quietly, his calm tone not matching the panic in Tsukishima's chest.

"I—I don't know!" Tsukishima hissed, his mind a chaotic mess. He couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. Everything was spinning, spinning, spinning… "I just—I need space. I need to—" He slammed the door behind him, racing down the hallway. He didn't know where he was going, just that he needed to get out.

Out of the apartment. Out of the situation. Out of his own mind.

The three of them stood there, silent and stunned. They didn't know what to do. They'd never seen Tsukishima like this before. Kuroo glanced at Bokuto, who was frozen, his mouth opening and closing like he was trying to say something but couldn't find the words. Akaashi's calm demeanor was the only thing keeping the tension from snapping completely.

"He's confused," Akaashi said quietly, "We should give him some space."

Kuroo nodded, but his eyes were shadowed with worry. "But this… this isn't over. Not by a long shot."

Bokuto stared at the door where Tsukishima had just fled. "We'll make it right." His voice was softer than usual, filled with quiet resolve. "We have to."

They stood there for a moment longer, before a heavy silence settled over them. Then, Kuroo's gaze shifted to the bed where Tsukishima had been resting the whole day. "Let's check if he at least made it to the couch. I don't want him fainting in the hallway."

Akaashi nodded slowly. "Let's make sure he's okay."

They agreed silently, moving towards the living room. They weren't sure if Tsukishima had collapsed on the couch, trying to sleep it off, but when they arrived, the couch was empty.

Kuroo's heart skipped a beat. "He's not here..."

Bokuto's face fell, a hint of panic creeping into his features. "Where the heck did he go?"

Akaashi frowned, his calm demeanor slipping just slightly. He turned to Kuroo. "Check your bedroom. I'll look in the bathroom."

The three of them split up, searching the apartment quickly. But no sign of Tsukishima. His things were still in the room, but he was nowhere to be found.

Kuroo felt a tight knot form in his chest. "This isn't like him." 

They reconvened in the hallway, worry building between them. "Where could he have gone?" Bokuto asked, his voice shaky.

Akaashi's expression was serious now, no longer calm. "I think we need to go find him. He's not well. We can't leave him out there like this."

The urgency in his voice drove the point home. They all knew that Tsukishima might be physically sick, but emotionally, he was in far worse shape—and they weren't about to let him face it alone.

They quickly grabbed their jackets and rushed out the door, scanning the hallway for any sign of Tsukishima. Their hearts raced as they reached the street, the cool air doing little to settle their nerves.

Bokuto was the first to spot something—a figure slumped on a bench just a minute or two down the road. At first, it was hard to make out who it was in the dim light, but as they approached, Tsukishima's familiar blonde hair became clear.

"Tsukki!" Bokuto's voice cracked with concern as he rushed forward.

Tsukishima was barely conscious, his head leaning against the backrest of the bench, eyes half-lidded. His face was pale, drenched in sweat, and his breathing was shallow. The worst part was the tears—silently streaming down his face, his expression twisted in distress. He didn't seem to realize it, his mind too clouded by the fever that raged through him.

Kuroo's heart tightened as he crouched down beside him, reaching out to feel his forehead. "Shit… he's burning up."

Akaashi gently placed his hand on Tsukishima's shoulder. "He's delirious. We need to get him back inside."

Bokuto knelt beside him, his large hands carefully lifting Tsukishima's limp form. "I got him." His voice was firm, but there was a tremor beneath it that betrayed how worried he was. He scooped Tsukishima into his arms, holding him as gently as he could, but Tsukishima didn't stir, his body barely reacting to being moved.

As they began walking back to the apartment, Tsukishima's head lulled against Bokuto's chest, his breath coming in soft, uneven huffs. The worst of it wasn't just the fever—it was the quiet sobs that shook his body, though he wasn't aware of them. His hands were curled into fists, but there was no strength in them, no resistance. He was entirely at their mercy, vulnerable and worn out from whatever emotional storm he'd been trying to outrun.

Bokuto glanced down, his heart aching at the sight. "Come on, Tsukki, hang in there," he whispered softly, his voice barely audible. Tsukishima's head tilted further, his body relaxing against Bokuto as sleep overcame him completely, his tears still damp on his face.

By the time they reached the apartment, Tsukishima was completely unconscious, and the others had to carefully maneuver him back inside. The sight of him so broken, so far from the sarcastic, sharp-edged Tsukishima they knew, only deepened the worry in each of their hearts.

They wasted no time in making him comfortable. Bokuto carefully placed him on the couch, and Akaashi quickly retrieved a blanket to cover him, trying to soothe his trembling form. Kuroo moved around the room, his brow furrowed in concentration as he grabbed more supplies—cold compresses, extra pillows, and water. He knew how important it was to bring Tsukishima's fever down.

"He's burning up," Kuroo muttered under his breath as he dampened a cloth and placed it gently on Tsukishima's forehead. "This needs to stop soon."

Bokuto sat by his side, hovering anxiously as he watched Tsukishima's pale face. His usual energetic demeanor was gone, replaced with worry. "What do we do now? He's so… out of it. We can't just leave him like this."

Akaashi, always the voice of reason, exhaled slowly, sitting on the edge of the couch, his eyes focused on Tsukishima's limp figure. "We'll keep him cool, give him fluids, and let him rest. He needs to sweat out the fever. If it doesn't improve by morning, we'll take him to a doctor."

Bokuto nodded, though his frown deepened. "I just... I hate seeing him like this. He's so stubborn. He won't ask for help."

Kuroo, sensing the unspoken tension, gave Bokuto a reassuring pat on the back. "It's Tsukishima. He won't let us in until he's ready, but right now, we have to make sure he's okay. That's all that matters."

Akaashi looked at Kuroo, his voice soft but firm. "And we'll be here for him. No matter how long it takes."

For a moment, the room fell quiet, except for Tsukishima's shallow breathing and the occasional rustle of sheets. Bokuto stayed close, his hand resting lightly on Tsukishima's arm. He couldn't help but keep glancing at Tsukishima's face, watching the subtle rise and fall of his chest.

Then, in a voice barely above a whisper, Bokuto spoke again. "I think... I think he's been pushing himself too hard. He's been pulling away from us for a while now. I knew something was up, but I never imagined... this."

Akaashi's eyes softened. "We all saw it. He hasn't been himself lately. He's been trying to shoulder everything on his own, and he thinks he has to do it alone. But he doesn't, not anymore."

Kuroo nodded, his eyes dark with thought. "He doesn't want to admit it. But Tsukishima has always been more vulnerable than he lets on. We just need to show him that he's not alone in this."

Bokuto leaned forward, his usual upbeat personality returning in small waves. "We'll make sure he knows we're here, no matter what. We'll be his strength when he can't be."

As if on cue, Tsukishima stirred slightly, a faint groan escaping his lips. His eyes fluttered open for a moment, his expression dazed and distant.

"Tsukki?" Bokuto's voice was soft, gentle.

Tsukishima blinked a few times, his gaze unfocused as he struggled to process where he was. "Wha...?" His voice was hoarse, and he shifted uncomfortably, clearly disoriented.

Bokuto's heart clenched at the sight of Tsukishima like this. He reached out and placed a hand gently on his shoulder, trying to offer some comfort. "Hey, take it easy. You're okay. You've got us, alright?"

Tsukishima's lips parted, but the words never came. Instead, a tear slipped down his cheek, though he didn't seem to realize it. His expression was a mix of exhaustion, confusion, and something far more vulnerable—something none of them had seen before.

Akaashi leaned in, his calm voice cutting through the silence. "You're safe here, Tsukishima. We're not going anywhere. Just rest, okay?"

Tsukishima barely nodded before his body seemed to slump again, his eyes closing as if it took all his strength to remain awake. Bokuto's hand remained on his shoulder, his thumb gently brushing over the fabric of his shirt. He didn't want to leave his side.

Minutes passed. The fevered heat of Tsukishima's skin seemed to increase as his breathing grew deeper. Kuroo kept a close eye on him, checking his temperature regularly, but Tsukishima remained unresponsive, drifting in and out of consciousness.

Bokuto felt the weight of the situation press heavily on him. It wasn't just the fever or the sickness—it was everything Tsukishima had been bottling up, all the times he had tried to push them away, all the little signs they missed because they didn't know how to reach him.

"He's never going to admit it, is he?" Bokuto whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

"No, he's not," Kuroo responded quietly. "But we're not going to force him. We'll be here when he's ready. For now, we focus on getting him better."

Akaashi nodded. "We take care of him. We always will."

As the evening wore on, Tsukishima finally settled into a deeper sleep, his fever still high but slowly starting to dip. The three of them remained close by, watching over him in silence, the weight of their unspoken thoughts filling the room.

Though they couldn't force Tsukishima to open up, they would stay by his side until he did. And as the night stretched on, the one thing that was clear to each of them was this: no matter what happened, they weren't going anywhere.

The hours passed slowly as the three of them watched over Tsukishima. Bokuto remained beside him, his hand gently resting on Tsukishima's arm as he tried not to make any noise. Kuroo was at the other end of the couch, pacing and occasionally checking Tsukishima's fever. Akaashi sat by the window, his gaze distant, lost in thought.

By midnight, Tsukishima's fever had started to dip, though not by much. His breathing was still shallow and labored, but he seemed more peaceful, less restless. The cold compresses they'd placed on his forehead had cooled him down some, and now they just had to wait for the fever to break.

"Think he's going to be okay?" Bokuto's voice was soft, but there was a sharp edge of worry in it.

Akaashi's voice was steady as ever. "He will be. It's just going to take some time. He's been running himself ragged, and his body's fighting against it now. But his fever will break soon."

Kuroo, who had been watching Tsukishima closely, nodded. "Yeah. He's tough. He'll get through this. He just needs to rest."

Bokuto nodded, but he still couldn't shake the feeling of unease. Tsukishima had been so distant lately. It wasn't just the physical exhaustion that had worn him down—it was everything else. The walls he'd built around himself, the way he'd been pushing them away without really understanding why.

"He doesn't trust us, does he?" Bokuto muttered under his breath, more to himself than anyone else.

Akaashi looked at him, his expression softening as he leaned forward. "It's not that he doesn't trust us. He just... doesn't know how to let us in, yet. Tsukishima doesn't believe anyone can handle him at his worst. He's always been the type to deal with things alone, to keep people at arm's length."

Kuroo frowned. "But we're here. He knows that. He has to know that."

"I think he does," Akaashi replied, his gaze flickering toward Tsukishima. "But knowing something and accepting it are two different things."

Bokuto stayed silent for a while, his hand gently brushing Tsukishima's hair away from his face. "He's so... stubborn. But we won't give up on him. We'll show him he doesn't have to do it alone."

Kuroo smirked softly. "You're right about one thing. He's definitely stubborn."

The three of them fell into a comfortable silence, the quiet ticking of the clock on the wall filling the space between them. Tsukishima's shallow breathing was the only other sound, his body still hot to the touch but slowly cooling down.

As the night wore on, the tension in the room started to ease. Tsukishima's fever seemed to have stabilized, though he was still unresponsive. The trio didn't leave his side, each of them keeping watch, making sure he was comfortable.

Eventually, Tsukishima stirred. His eyelids fluttered slightly, and his fingers twitched as if trying to make sense of his surroundings. He let out a low groan, and his voice came out rough and strained.

"Why are you all still here?" Tsukishima's words were barely a whisper, but they were enough to make the three of them tense up.

Kuroo leaned forward, his voice warm and reassuring. "We're here because we care about you, Tsukishima. We're not leaving."

Tsukishima's eyes slowly opened, still glassy and unfocused, and he turned his head toward Kuroo. His lips were dry, and his voice rasped again as he spoke.

"I don't need you all hovering over me," he muttered, but the harshness in his tone was weak, more from exhaustion than anger. "I'll be fine."

Akaashi's calm voice cut through the tension. "You're not fine, Tsukishima. You're sick, and you need help. There's no shame in that."

"I never said there was," Tsukishima replied with a slight frown, but his words lacked the usual sharpness. He wasn't angry—he was just tired. So tired.

Bokuto leaned down closer, his voice soft but sincere. "You don't have to do everything alone, Tsukki. We're not going anywhere. We just want you to be okay."

For the first time in days, Tsukishima's eyes softened. He closed them for a moment, his mind too foggy to fight against the sincerity in Bokuto's words.

"I don't know how to... I don't know how to handle this," Tsukishima admitted, the words barely escaping his lips. He hated sounding vulnerable. But he was too exhausted to care. "I don't know how to let you in."

The room grew quiet, the weight of his confession hanging in the air. Akaashi was the first to break the silence, his tone steady but kind. "You don't have to have all the answers right now, Tsukishima. Just take it one step at a time. We're here with you. All of us."

Kuroo added softly, "We're not going to force anything on you. But we'll be here. You're not alone in this."

Tsukishima didn't respond immediately. His eyelids fluttered as his exhaustion overtook him once more. But this time, it wasn't the same wall of resistance that had kept him apart from them. For the first time in a long time, he let himself drift into sleep with a sense of comfort, the three of them watching over him.

The next morning, Tsukishima woke to the soft light of the morning streaming through the apartment windows. His head felt clearer, his fever down, though he still felt drained. As he tried to sit up, the world tilted slightly, but before he could react, Bokuto was there, gently helping him back down with a reassuring smile.

"Easy there, Tsukki. You're not going anywhere just yet," Bokuto said softly.

Akaashi was sitting nearby, reading a book as usual, but when he saw Tsukishima stir, he offered a soft, understanding look. "How are you feeling?"

Tsukishima grumbled under his breath, but the usual sharpness wasn't there. "Better. Still feel like I got hit by a truck."

Kuroo, who had been silently observing, leaned forward. "Good. Just rest. We've got everything covered. No need to rush."

Tsukishima looked at each of them, his expression still guarded but more open than it had been the day before. "Thanks," he muttered, though the words were softer than usual.

The three of them exchanged a quiet glance before Akaashi responded, his voice gentle but unwavering. "Anytime, Tsukishima. You don't have to thank us. We're in this together."

And for the first time in a long while, Tsukishima didn't feel the need to argue.

He let himself lean into the comfort of the moment, knowing, deep down, that no matter how hard he tried to push them away, they were always going to be there. And for now, that was enough.

The following days passed in a strange, comforting rhythm. Tsukishima's fever had finally broken, but he was still weak and exhausted. His body felt like it had been through a war, and every movement was slow and deliberate. But the worst of it was over.

The others were careful not to overwhelm him, respecting his need for space, but also making sure he wasn't alone for too long. Bokuto would bring him food, excitedly talking about everything and nothing. Kuroo kept his distance, though there was always a quiet watchfulness in his eyes, while Akaashi stuck to his usual calm routine, making sure Tsukishima's needs were taken care of without smothering him.

They fell into their usual patterns, but this time, something had shifted. Tsukishima had started to feel... less guarded. The space between them had narrowed just a bit, and the walls he'd so carefully built around himself were starting to crack, piece by piece.

It wasn't easy for him, but every time he thought about pushing them away, about retreating into the safety of his solitude, he remembered their kindness, their unwavering presence. Slowly, it began to sink in.

The change was subtle. Tsukishima started responding to their jokes, even offering a dry remark here and there. He'd let them in a little more, if only just to let them know he wasn't as immune to their care as he had once believed.

One evening, about a week after he'd first fallen ill, the four of them found themselves gathered around the couch. It was a quiet night; there was no grand scheme, no pressing plans, just the comfort of each other's company.

Tsukishima was sitting on the armchair, not feeling quite up to joining them on the couch yet, but still close enough to feel included. His eyes flickered between them, watching as Kuroo and Bokuto bantered back and forth while Akaashi looked on, his usual calm expression hiding the small smile on his lips.

"I never thought I'd see the day when Kuroo would actually shut up for five minutes," Tsukishima remarked dryly, and the room fell into a brief silence.

Kuroo raised an eyebrow. "You know, you could learn a thing or two from me about charm, Tsukki."

"Yeah, right," Tsukishima muttered, but the corner of his mouth quirked slightly, and for the first time in a while, he didn't mind the teasing.

Bokuto, who had been leaning in eagerly to watch Kuroo's response, perked up. "Ooh, did Tsukki just joke? Is this the start of a new era?"

Akaashi, who had been reading a book in his lap, looked up with a soft smile. "Don't encourage him too much, Bokuto."

Tsukishima rolled his eyes but didn't argue. The warmth in the room felt... right. It wasn't overwhelming or suffocating. It was just there, like it had always been meant to be.

Kuroo smirked, his eyes gleaming. "We should make him do it more often. Maybe we'll get him to crack a smile soon."

"You're like the most annoying person I know," Tsukishima muttered under his breath, but it was clear that the usual sharpness in his tone had softened.

Bokuto punched Kuroo lightly in the shoulder. "I'm the funniest, right?"

Akaashi let out a small laugh at that, shaking his head in amusement.

Tsukishima's heart was beating faster than it should. He couldn't help it; there was something comforting, something he wasn't used to, in the ease they had with each other. It wasn't just the laughter or the teasing—it was the way they fit together. It wasn't perfect, and it didn't have to be.

And for the first time in weeks, Tsukishima felt something stir in his chest that had nothing to do with his usual cynicism or wariness. A quiet yearning, almost. He hadn't been ready to admit it before, but now... now, he wasn't so sure about pushing them away anymore. Every day that passed, every quiet moment spent together, made him realize that there was more here than just friendship.

His thoughts swirled, but he quickly pushed them aside. This wasn't the time. Not yet.

"I think we've all got this strange connection," Tsukishima said suddenly, more to himself than anyone else.

Akaashi looked over at him, his expression thoughtful. "What do you mean?"

"The four of us," Tsukishima continued, glancing at each of them. "It's... different. I don't know. But it feels like it could be something more. It's not just normal, y'know?" He paused, feeling the weight of his words settle between them. "I've been thinking about it for a while now."

Bokuto's expression softened, his usual energy muted for just a moment. "Tsukki…"

Kuroo met his gaze, a knowing look in his eyes. "You've been thinking about it, huh?"

Tsukishima couldn't quite meet their eyes, suddenly feeling vulnerable in a way he hadn't expected. "I don't know what to do with it," he admitted, voice quieter now. "I don't know if I'm ready for... something else, but there's something here. Something between all of us. I don't get it, but I don't want to run away from it either."

Akaashi, who had been watching him intently, nodded slowly. "None of us expected it. But if we're being honest, none of us are running, either."

Bokuto, ever the optimist, grinned widely, his enthusiasm back in full force. "Does that mean we can finally stop pretending we're not all secretly in love with each other?"

Tsukishima froze, the words hanging in the air between them. His heart skipped a beat, and the room suddenly felt a lot smaller, as though the space between them had closed in on him.

"What?" Tsukishima's voice came out hoarse, his throat tight.

Kuroo leaned back, arms crossed, a smirk on his lips. "Guess you didn't know we were all thinking the same thing, huh? But we've been patient. We're not going anywhere, Tsukki."

Tsukishima's mind raced, the reality of what they were saying crashing into him all at once. They—they—felt the same way? He didn't know how to process it, but at the same time, he could feel his chest warm, the knot in his stomach slowly loosening.

"I… don't know what to do with this," Tsukishima muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. "It's too much. It's all too much."

"Hey, take your time," Kuroo said gently, his usual teasing tone gone. "We're not asking for anything right now. Just... don't run away from this. From us."

Bokuto grinned again, and Akaashi's gaze softened, a rare smile playing on his lips.

For the first time, Tsukishima didn't feel so afraid of whatever this was. He wasn't ready to dive into it—he never would be—but maybe, just maybe, it was okay to let them in. To let himself in.

"Just don't make me regret it," Tsukishima muttered, though his words were more uncertain than he liked to admit.

"You won't," Akaashi said, his voice firm.

And in that moment, Tsukishima allowed himself to believe it.