Goodnight, Tadashi

Chapter 6

Tsukishima laid in bed, tossing and turning, unable to get comfortable. It was a problem he hadn’t had in months - not since he’d bought the body pillow. Not since he’d allowed himself to start drifting to sleep imagining Yamaguchi in his arms. Tonight, however, something was holding him back.

“You should tell Yamaguchi how you feel.”

Tsukishima clicked his tongue, annoyed at the repetitions of Kenma’s voice in his head. Telling Yamaguchi how he felt simply wasn’t as easy as Kenma made it sound. He was confident that they were close enough for their friendship to survive even if Yamaguchi didn’t feel the same way, but it would still put an awkward strain on things for a while. With Tsukishima so busy with work and school, living in Tokyo while Yamaguchi was working full time back home in Miyagi, they already didn’t talk anywhere near as much as they used to. Tsukishima didn’t want anything else coming between them, even temporarily. Just thinking about it made him miss Yamaguchi that much more, the loneliness settling heavily in his chest.

Tsukishima grabbed his cell phone off his bedside table, dialing the familiar number.

The line connected after the third ring. “Tsukki?” Yamaguchi’s sleep-heavy voice asked. “Are you okay?” Tsukishima felt guilty for not even bothering to check the time before he called.

“I know it’s late,” he said in apology. “But I couldn’t sleep.”

“Oh? I thought you said you’ve been sleeping better lately?” He could picture the concerned frown Yamaguchi was wearing from the tone of his voice.

“I have been,” Tsukishima assured. “Tonight I just…” He trailed off as he realized there was no real way to justify the call except to admit the truth: he’d just wanted to hear Yamaguchi’s voice.

“It’s okay,” Yamaguchi soothed in the silence, although he still sounded puzzled. “How’s everything going?”

“Normal, mostly,” Tsukishima answered with a shrug he knew Yamaguchi couldn’t see. He was quiet for a moment, then he asked, “How’s Hinata?”

There was a pause before Yamaguchi responded, clearly caught off guard by the question. “Shoyo’s fine,” he said slowly, and the name felt like a knife in Tsukishima’s chest. “Still playing volleyball for the local university. Lucky he’s good at it because his grades are abysmal.” They shared a laugh that faded into another moment of silence. “Where did that come from?”

“Kozume mentioned tonight that Hinata talks about you a lot,” Tsukishima explained. “But you don’t really talk about him.”

“I guess I didn’t think you wanted to hear about him.” Tsukishima heard a rustling noise that might have been Yamaguchi shrugging. “You two never really did get along.”

“But you two did.” Tsukishima realized he answered a little too quickly, and hoped it didn’t come off as jealousy.

It took Yamaguchi a few seconds to answer, confusion clear in his tone. "Sorry, Tsukki. I don’t understand.”

“I just-” Tsukishima caught himself speaking too quickly again, paused, and took a deep breath. “I’m…” Another pause, trying to collect his thoughts. He had wondered often, laying in bed at night, if Yamaguchi was as lonely without him as he was without Yamaguchi. Sure, Tsukishima had Kuroo, and Bokuto, and Akaashi, and Kenma, but they… It just wasn’t the same. But then again, Yamaguchi always had been better at connecting. Finally, he forced the words out. “I’m just glad you’re not lonely.”

“Aww, Tsukki!” Yamaguchi crooned, and Tsukishima closed his eyes to better envision the grin spreading across his friend’s face. “That’s so sweet!” Tsukishima smiled into the darkness of his room, proud that, if nothing else, he could still touch Yamaguchi’s heart from such a distance.

That feeling faded, turned to dread, when Yamaguchi mumbled, “Wait…” because Yamaguchi had always been too perceptive when it came to Tsukishima. Slowly, cautiously, Yamaguchi asked, “Tsukki, are you lonely?”

Just like that, fear wrapped Tsukishima’s heart. “Sorry Yamaguchi, it’s late,” he tried to excuse himself from the conversation, panicked, but trying to keep his voice steady. “I should go.”

“No, Tsukki, it’s okay,” Yamaguchi tried to reassure, but it was too late. Tsukishima was already shutting down. “I’m here for-”

“Goodnight, Tadashi,” Tsukishima interrupted, his jaw clenching shut as soon as he realized what he’d said. His heart was in his throat, constricting his breathing, and he wanted to hang up the phone in humiliation, but he forced himself to stay on the line.

After a few moments of what Tsukishima could only presume was shocked silence, Yamaguchi replied softly, sweetly, “Goodnight, Kei.” Tsukishima breathed a sigh of relief, some of the tension easing from his body. “I’m here whenever you need me.”

“I know.”

Tsukishima hung up the phone. He laid in bed, on his back, forcing himself to take slow, deep breaths, in through the nose, out through the mouth, until his heart rate had calmed.

He rolled onto his side, wrapped his arms around his body pillow, and this time, when he murmured, “Goodnight, Tadashi,” into the fabric, his mind replied in Tadashi’s gentle, touched voice, “Goodnight, Kei.”