Though often disregarded and overlooked, the cracked pieces of seashells line the surface of every beach indelibly. I used to collect them alone while walking across the beach, picking only the ones that seemed whole to me. Overtime when I would look back at the jar those collected seashells I would notice the little cracks in the "whole" seashells I thought they were. It was disheartening to my eight-year-old self and I eventually lost interest. Now, I do not find much appeal in seashells but I am sometimes reminded of the nostalgic air the jar of cracked seashells gave me.
When I first "met" Tsukishima Kei, I noticed a crack in his glasses, that resembled the ones I found in my childhood seashells. I had coincidentally, fallen asleep in the equipment room during what seemed to be his private training. I remember getting up in a groggy manner after noticing movement beyond the heavy metal doors and I peaked through a small opening recognizing a familiar figure. Yet it was not so familiar, he was huffing and gasping alone, kneeling on the gym floor. Frankly, it was awkward and I really wanted to laugh at his dramatic kneel on the ground. Though nevertheless, I couldn't keep my eyes off of him and the memory of the cracked seashells sitting on my bedside table resurfaced.
I may not have known it at the time but although I did not ever think to find seashells anymore there was one more unexpected seashell, I would come to find on the shores of the ocean again.
YOU ARE READING
Surfer Boy I Tsukishima Kei x Reader I
ФанфикThe summer before your sophmore year at Karasuno high, you find a familiar face frequenting ocean near your beach house. Soon, everyday of your summer is consumed by him and his presence at the beach. Even on nights you visit the ocean, his figure...
