Hidden From You [Haikyuu / Tsukkiyama]

Poisoned By The Garden Walls

A flat terrain riddled with irregular clumps of cracks and rocks integrated into the footpath added to the challenge of finding Yamaguchi. The first half of the street Tsukishima hurried down was aligned with delicate, red Japanese maple trees which confined bystanders by emitting an aphrodisiac scent of packaged pistachio shells. On the second half of the street, the pathway bloomed of cedar trees, their bleeding shadows towering the tips of the tiled pavement. Once the sun would succumb to the moon, the street lights would illuminate a large portion of the maple leaves shrouded by the absence of light and begin the process of transfiguration, disguising them as timeless beauties. The cedar trees, however, were left in the dark as no street lights were placed, which left the latter half of the street zombified until the eventual awakening of the neighbourhood.

The centre of the contrasting street occupied a distinguishable family home, which coerced ordinary townsfolk with its slathered wooden boards as exterior walls and its location, which served as a salience. In comparison to nearby homes with their symmetrical, concrete and reinforced steel exterior, and lavish gardens which enveloped each speck of bare land, this home stuck out like a sore thumb.

The home that looked like it originated from the depths of a subdued forest on the edge of a reservoir belonged to Yamaguchi's family. The quality of Yamaguchi's home life was entirely undeterred from being situated on an objectively ideal, quiet street. Their home acted as a cluster of poison ivy in an, otherwise, elegant garden.

His parents would argue from dusk until dawn, often luring Yamaguchi into their deeply infested infidelity issues. A disdained perception in Yamaguchi's mind developed; a boisterous disregard for talents within hobbies he had formed over the years. At the peak of midnight, a sleep-deprived Yamaguchi would usually slip into Tsukishima's home, about half a kilometre away from his own home, with his spare house key and, without effort, fall into the fragmented world of a delightfully deluded dream, secluded on the couch.

Sometimes, at night, Tsukishima would check up on Yamaguchi by sending him one of his usual monosyllabic texts, only to be embraced with silence, and then the strong aroma of bacon once he arose in the morning.

The sun stood its ground, reluctant to fall into the arms of the moonlight and deteriorate beyond the horizon. Tsukishima quickened his pace, ignoring the minuscule pebbles that he would typically sweep onto the grass without care, and instead adjusted his energy in the search for the house. He needed to speak to Yamaguchi.

Yamaguchi's home was different from what Tsukishima remembered, as he had only visited his home a handful of times. Tsukishima had never entered inside his home, respecting Yamaguchi's insistent desire for him not to. Tsukishima approaches the front door, the wooden steps leading to the house lurching in pain due to his sudden substantial weight as he knocks on the door.

Tsukishima waits in anticipation for a response, tapping the soles of his shoes above the frail steps with impatience. Tsukishima takes a glimpse at the sky, spotting greying clouds start their descent into morphing together. Assuming that nobody is inside, Tsukishima declares defeat, cruising down the steps to begin the treacherous journey of walking home alone.

That was until the door swung wide open, revealing a tall, slender figure.

"Tsuki! What are you doing here?"

Tsukishima tries to compose himself and seem neutral as he sees Yamaguchi hold a pair of boots before catching the flush of relief Yamaguchi has displayed on his face that only Tsukishima could notice, having seen it hundreds of times before. Lips parted with hair in disarray, eyes glistening with hope and cheeks which flourished and embellished his now widening smile. Smudges of dirt did little to hide his freckles.