on our way to twenty-seven // kuroo x daichi

20 - IT'S NEVER TOO LATE TO START OVER.

Tetsurou returns home for Thanksgiving break during his junior year of college to some surprising gossip.

He overhears it when he stops by Mrs. Ellis's candy store, needing the familiar sticky sugar fix he just can't get in New York City, and spots two of the library ladies whispering to each other on a bench.

"—broke up, if you can believe it," one of them says.

The other scoffs. "I can. It was never going to last, anyway. It just goes to show that kind of relationship isn't made to last. Now that they've grown out of those silly teenage hormonal feelings, they can find themselves nice girls to settle down with..."

Tetsurou's heart catches in his throat. No one else came out—the town gossip mill would have told him as soon as it happened—so that had to mean...

He bursts into the shop, blurting out the question to Mrs. Ellis. "Did Daichi and Suga break up?"

She startles, loudly dropping a case of taffy boxes. "Well, good afternoon to you, too, Tetsu."

"Sorry. But I just heard Mrs. Healy and Mrs. Simpson talking outside..." Tetsurou stoops down to scoop up the boxes.

Mrs. Ellis gives him a sad little smile. "It's a shame, isn't it?" she says as he stacks the boxes back in the case. "I really thought they were good together. Made for each other, even."

Tetsurou had thought the exact same thing. "Recently?"

"I only heard today, so Daichi must have told his parents less than two days ago. You and I both know how fast gossip spreads around here."

Tetsurou just hums in acknowledgement. "You know...I'm not too hungry after all. Maybe I'll come back after dinner."

Mrs. Ellis waves him off as he leaves the store, wrapping his scarf tighter around his neck. The old ladies from the library are gone, most likely driven inside by the accelerating winds. Tetsurou stops by the burger place, buys his usual, and takes the bag out to the end of the breakwater.

Back when he was four, the end of the breakwater was boring. In his adolescence, it was a place to hang out and chat with his friends without being overheard. Now, it's a refuge.

New York City is...well, it's New York City. It's crowded and frenzied and relentless in its energy, and he loves that, loves that it's a challenge for his usually quick mind to struggle to keep pace there. But sometimes, in the small hours of the morning, he lies in his dorm bed with his feet hanging off the end of the mattress and misses the sound of the ocean, misses the sharp sting of saltwater against his cheeks.

He sits cross-legged on the rock, laying his burger and fries out in front of him like a lonely little picnic for one, and takes a bite. Yes. This, out here—this is home.

He polishes off the burger in silence, watching the dull grey waves lap at the rocks, and reaches for the fries.

"Hey, Tetsu."

Tetsurou drops the entire uneaten carton of fries into the ocean.

There's a warm chuckle from behind him, and Tetsurou turns around to see— "Hey, Daichi."

Tetsurou hasn't seen Daichi Sawamura since the summer after high school graduation. When the end of August arrived, Tetsurou packed his bags for New York City and never looked back. He hasn't spoken to Daichi since, either, always managing to avoid him when they were both home for break.

Daichi looks more or less the same, just more...grown up. He's grown an inch since high school, and he's sporting the stubble of a man who hasn't shaved in a day, but he's still the broad-shouldered guy that Tetsurou had a gay panic over on his first day of high school. "It's been a while. Mind if I join you?"

"Yeah, of course." Tetsurou folds up the paper bag. "I'd offer you fries, but..." He motions to the water, where a few dozen fish have swarmed the fries sinking into the ocean.

"Your hair hasn't changed."

Tetsurou laughs, running a hand through what's become a permanent bedhead. "It's hopeless at this point. Best I can do is try to make it look cool instead of messy."

"It looks good. You look good."

Tetsurou doesn't know what to say to the compliment, so he changes the subject. "Uh, sorry about you and Suga."

Daichi looks surprised. "How did you know?"

"The library ladies. I heard them talking outside of Mrs. Ellis's." Tetsurou manages a small smile. "Don't tell me you forgot how fast the rumor mill works around here."

Daichi laughs, and something in Tetsurou's chest unclenches to let him breathe. Of course talking with Daichi wasn't weird, because Daichi was too nice of a person to make it weird. He didn't hold grudges. Tetsurou, on the other hand, could be enormously petty, a trait that wasn't helped by his exponentially pettier college roommate, Eita. "I guess I did. I only told my parents last night."

"What happened?" Tetsurou asks, fully aware of how nosy that sounds. "You know, if you wanna talk about it."

Daichi sighs, running a hand through his hair. He's let it get longer, Tetsurou notes. "I wish I knew for sure," he says eventually. "I think the distance was hard. It wasn't that I didn't trust him, but I just...it was hard, knowing that if he was having a bad day I couldn't just go and hug him, and barely having the money to come home for breaks, let alone to visit each other." Daichi shakes his head with a bitter little laugh. "We couldn't make it work. It was just too much."

If Daichi and Suga couldn't make it work, then what hope was there for anyone else? "You guys always seemed so...perfect. Like you had it all together." Tetsurou sighs, "I know things aren't always what they seem, but I really thought you guys were it for each other."

"Everyone did."

"How long ago?"

"The end of the summer."

Tetsurou goes quiet. It was a testament to just how disconnected he and Daichi had become, that he was finding out this news two months later, and from the town gossips, at that. "I'm sorry."

"You don't have to be." Daichi cracks a smile. "He's already moved on, anyway. He told me he's dating some guy in his sociology department."

"That was fast," Tetsurou says without thinking, then winces once he realizes how that might sound. "I mean—sorry, that was kinda rude to say."

"No, you can say it. I was kind of sad to hear it, too. But..." Daichi sighs, rolling his shoulders back like he used to do when he was stressed on the court. "It's fine. We said we'd be adults about it, so."

"But that doesn't make it any easier."

"No, not really."

Tetsurou crumples up his empty burger wrapper, sparing one more thought for the fallen carton of fries. "I should probably head back. How about it?"

Daichi offers him a hand to help him up; after a moment's consideration, Tetsurou takes it. Daichi's hands are rougher now, new calluses marring his palms. Tetsurou doesn't ask.

The graffiti on the breakwater changes as often as the tides, always something new being added or scribbled out. Tetsurou still reads it all, no matter how many times he's walked over it. It feels like a better record of the town than anything the gossips say—this is where the real feelings come out.

Today there's a fading Homecoming proposal, a series of initials in hearts, and an elaborate drawing of Obama under an umbrella. And—

"I like that," Daichi murmurs, pausing to tap at a line with his foot.

"It's true," Tetsurou says.

"Yeah, but it's something people forget all the time."

Tetsurou peers at him from under a lock of hair that's flopped into his face. "You should remember that, too."

Daichi looks back at him, blinking at him for a moment before he smiles. "Yeah. I should."