wear my heart on my soundcloud

one

"Tsukki, come on!" Yamaguchi tugs at Tsukishima's sleeve, forcibly dragging his phone away from his face.

"What do you want," Tsukishima growls, glaring up at Yamaguchi. While the others might choose to run and jump around in victory after winning their first game at nationals, Tsukishima's preferred method of celebration is anything that doesn't involve standing up for any longer than necessary – which is exactly why he's squatting on the floor next to all of their duffel bags while the others run off to watch other games or shop.

"Please, just come with me to buy a shirt," Yamaguchi whines, pulling on Tsukishima's arm once more.

"Can't you see I'm watching our stuff?" Tsukishima asks, turning back to his phone.

"Aw, Tsukki! I'm sure you want a souvenir, too!" Before Tsukishima can respond that no, in fact, he does not want a souvenir, he feels a pair of hands wrapping around his wrist.

"Hey, now–"

The thought of dragging his body all the way up the stairs and over to the stalls to buy some boring shirt with inspirational quotes on it sounds unappealing at best, but all he can do is squint in disgust, as Yamaguchi, by some miracle of strength, pulls Tsukishima up to his feet.

They're already halfway down the hallway by the time Tsukishima regains enough feeling in his legs to do something about it, and he just sighs as he resigns himself to his fate.

By the time they make it into the main atrium, not only has Tsukishima managed to shake off Yamaguchi's death grip on his bicep, but he's actually somehow managed to lose Yamaguchi entirely. Tsukishima looks around the room, frowning slightly as he cranes his head to see if he can spot that strand of green hair among the crown, but only finds himself getting slowly pushed over to the wall.

"If he's going to force me out here, what's the point of abandoning me?" Tsukishima sighs. He takes the opportunity to pull his phone back out and leans back against the wall, closing his eyes as he lets the music of his headphones wash over him. He's sure Yamaguchi will come find him sooner or later, and he'll just have to wait until then to let him know how lame this all is.

Of course, nothing ever seems to go Tsukishima's way. He's barely been there for a minute before he's crying out in pain, hopping to the side with a yelp when something sharp crushes his foot.

Turning his head with a vicious glare ready, Tsukishima is fully prepared to chew out whichever asshole had decided to use his toes as a floor mat, only to see nothing there.

And then he looks down.

"Oh," he finds himself saying, looking down at the top of the offender's head. It's a deep, red color that makes him think back to that Shiratorizawa middle blocker with a frown. Now that he's thinking about it, Tsukishima realizes he's kind of craving a cherry soda. Maybe there's a vending machine nearby?

For some reason, though, Tsukishima finds himself standing in the same spot and watching the scene in front of him with a small smile twitching at the corners of his lips.

"Damn it," the girl in front of him hisses, stretching on the tips of her toes, only for her fingertips to barely brush up against a shirt hung on the top row of the stall they're next to. "Need," she grunts out between swipes, "Longer arms."

"You know," Tsukishima drawls out, stepping around the girl to pluck the shirt down for her with ease. "The shirt right below it has the exact same quote on it."

She frowns back up at him defiantly, squinting her eyes – paired with her round cheeks, however, Tsukishima finds it much more on the side of adorable than intimidating. He holds it out to her and she turns her face to the side, blushing.