Strategize: Haikyuu Fanfic

Chapter 59: Confession

Confession (n.) - The act of formally making a statement spoken by the criminal, admitting of committing the accused crime.

That's what confession is in Ayame's mental dictionary. Does this mean she's a criminal? Does this mean that love is crime? Who knows. The law definition of confession and love confession are two ends of the same string, but in a way, it's still connected. Entertwined. How, you ask?

Both will end up suffering the negative consequences of speaking the truth.

Though she backed out of the idea, she may have given thought about confessing during the upcoming summer festival under the fireworks - as sappy and cliché as it may sound- or maybe even one of the walks home, when it's just the two of them. In the least, she should be prepared.

But this? Absentmindedly spilling your feelings out in his presence? In a song?

You've got to be fucking kidding me.

There were still nine minutes left of her stay, a full nine minutes of horror. Typically in sticky situations like these, she would calmly review her choices, then rationally coming up with the most logical answer. But adrenaline was pumping through her veins, her breathing coming short and shallow. Heart palpitations. Sweaty palms. Things that block her brain to properly think - it was blank with only one word - a command.

Run.

Because screw the damn promise to stay. It's what she does best after all. Run away. She did that to her father, so she's going to do the same to him. Both for the same reason: to save herself from the pain.

Her legs felt like jelly. Weak. Trembling. But that didn't stop her to make an attempt to sprint out the door. But the blonde beats her to it, slamming the door close by leaning with his back onto it.

Fuck. Yes, she has quite a dirty mouth herself too in special occasions like these. She quickly thought over the countless girls confessing their love for him throughout the school year, and now, she's going to be one of them. Rejected. Neglected. Hated.

Now they're facing each other. The girl was trapped, desperate for an escape- like a fly about to get devoured by Venus Flytrap, its mouth closing on the paralyzed prey ever so slowly. Her composure crumbling away.

Many things are on his mind: a thousand questions demanding to be answered. Now. But not a sound escaped his mouth, since he didn't want to push her too far into interrogating her, rather letting say things she want to say. His head went dizzy, due to the sudden movements of getting up. His mind flooded with questions. Many, many questions. Keeping in mind that things like these...are quite fragile. This odd concept called love.

She was staring at the floor, keeping her eyes on the wooden boards. There's still a chance. Perhaps say it was a joke, or some kind of cruel prank. But wouldn't that be lying? Will she be content with things being the same as before?Is it better to play it safe? After a few seconds of intense silence, she whispered meekly, loud enough for him to hear.

"...please make it as short and painless as possible."

Ah...there it is. You can't blame her though. Bracing herself for the words that will pierce her, hoping a simple 'we're friends and nothing more' phrase or a 'I don't feel the same' reason. Please no more than that. No 'get out of my face' or 'I don't want to deal with you' like how he rejected the rest. Her knuckles were white from the tight clenching of her fists. Surprisingly, no tears came. Just frustration shown through cold sweat in her palms and involuntary trembling of her knees.

His whole face is red now. He had imagined a situation similar to this - but those are just silly daydreams. This one is reality. His heart was fluttering rapidly - like a hummingbird's flapping of its wings. He wanted to make a small deal out of this, just to remain his calm facade, but the loud drumming of his heart makes it an impossible challenge for him.

"Who said I was going to reject you?"

That's it. Those words took a huge blow on her. Her knees gave out, but the heavy weight, burdening her heart was lifted, and was replaced with relief. Sweet, sweet relief. Sweeter than any of the cakes she ever tasted in her life. She remained crouched down on the ground, hopefully cooling herself down.There was a faint ringing in her ears amongst the loud pulsation of her heart.

In a way, she hated herself for being to vulnerable, always around him whenever she is. In fact, this is the third strike.

...

1. The night of the thunderstorm back at their first training camp.

2. Nightmares of her dad.

3. This. Whatever is happening right at this moment.

...

Yet he always helped her out. He never teased her about it. Not a single word. Rather, he helped her heal those wounds. Lightening her mood. Finding a small ray of hope in the midst of the darkness.

She finally glanced up to see him. Her face was beet red, and so was his. Tsukishima broke out of his aloof shell and lets his pride go, his face showing signs of sincerity. No teasing. No smirks. No jokes. Their gaze locked onto each other, as if allured by the hues of their irises. Gold and Green. She gave him a goofy grin, accelerating the poor boy's heatbeat.

"You could've told me that earlier..." She muttered, forcing out a chuckle. The blonde crouched down on the ground too, lifting her chin up. Their heartbeats drumming faster and louder. His face was centimeters from hers. He whispered low, a small smirk growing in his face.

"That's what you get for confessing when I'm sick. Of all the damn times." He said, pulling himself away. Though it took a great deal of restraint to not let his lips touch hers.

"I don't mind..." She muttered, refusing to meet his eyes. The blonde's smirk grew to a rare, genuine smile, reddening her face.

"I'll have to nurse you to health then." He said, pulling off her glasses. The girl tilted her head slightly as he inched closer and closer and closer.

...

And with that, the distance between their lips vanished.

...

A spark of electricity traveled down their spines. Although the kiss was sloppy on Tsukishima's part due to his clogged nose, this kiss was entirely different from her first two. There was a warm, comforting feeling that radiated from them. Sweeter than any strawberry shortcake he's ever tasted. Warmer than sipping on hot chocolate on a cold, winter day.The sweet kiss mending the bitterness in his heart, and so did his to hers. It felt almost magical, like a fairy tale kiss.

He didn't necessarily say that he liked her back through words, but his actions spoke for itself. Sometimes, you don't need you hear it. Sometimes words can't make their way out people's mouths. And that's perfectly fine. Just let his actions do all the talking. All the explaining. Conveying his feelings through gentle kisses and the soft gliding of his fingertips through the ends of her coal black locks. He had always wanted to do that.

When he pulled away, he can't help but suppress a hearty, genuine laugh, which sounded like music to her ears.

"I'll make sure to rent some documentaries about how mermaids are not real to keep you occupied while you get better."

"...shut up." She muttered, smiling before leaning in for second round, which took the boy by surprise. He happily obliged, returning the kiss, his fingers blindly fiddling with hers before they made their way and intertwined so perfectly, like fitting last piece of the jigsaw puzzle.

"Yup. You'll definitely be sick." He said, pulling away from the kiss.

"You owe me, Tsukishima."

"My oh my. Calling your boyfriend by his surname? How rude."

"Shut the fuck up, Kei."

"Much better. Though you might wanna watch your language there. Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?"

"No. But I kiss an idiot."

"Your idiot boyfriend." He corrected, but before she could make a retort, he leaned in once more, cupping her cheek as he let his lips touch hers.

She doesn't know this blissful, addictive sensation is, but she liked it. She wanted to be like this forever, and so did he.