The Man Who Ran Off With The Moon - [ Tsukkiyama Art Thief AU! ]

The Second Intruder

Tsukishima did not go to work the next day. Or the day after. Nobody minded, except for his boss. Kuroo, after the break in, was not fond of being home alone and Yamaguchi was pleased to spend time with his chronically sullen friend. In the time that progressed, the nightmares, the paranoia all became more and more apparent. Something inside of Yamaguchi was gnawing away at his interior. He looked into corners, out of windows, constantly worried that someone was coming to get him. Once, Kuroo poked him to get his attention and Yamaguchi had instinctually grasped his wrist, twisting it back. The quick effort reopened the wound in his chest and almost gave Kuroo a sprain. 

There was a constant tension. 

Night was worse. Tsukishima and Yamaguchi would lay side by side. In every scrape of tree branch or passage of a car, Yamaguchi would ask, "Did you hear that?" 

"I did." 

"What did it sound like?" 

"It didn't sound like anything. Go to bed." 

"Sorry." 

He didn't rest well, so he wasn't healing well. Tsukishima did his best, though. As Yamaguchi slept fitfully, he would trace his fingers through his hair, on his arms. He thought, maybe, if Yamaguchi became comfortably reacquainted with touch, his body may start to trust his environment again. It would relearn the feeling of safety. It made Tsukishima self conscious, to take the other man into his arms. He thought obsessively about the last time they had seen each other, that small, small kiss. 

He would hold Yamaguchi against him and wonder if it was relief, or something deeper that he now felt with his return. 

If it was something deeper, what would that even be like? Tsukishima's life had a narrative sense. He had gone from high school to college, college to work. He had collected a somewhat broken heart, maintained a few friendships, and entered smoothly into the dull reality of adult life. Yamaguchi was something else entirely. His life had a massive hole, a missing piece tucked into some secret place. Tsukishima had no idea what the story was there. He doubted he ever would. 

He woke up several times to Yamaguchi's stirring, his consistent worry. It wasn't easy. 

The next morning, the three men sat around the living room. Kuroo angrily sipped his coffee. He still hadn't told Kenma that Yamaguchi had reappeared, and it was weighing on him. He saw the severity of the situation, though, and agreed to silence as long as Kenma was overseas. Kuroo despised lying to his husband. Tsukishima was folded into the grey couch, watching a documentary on komodo dragons, and Yamaguchi thumbed the pages of a book, some old Russian classic called Crime and Punishment. 

"What are you reading that for?", Kuroo huffed, "You know it's about thieves, right?"

Tsukishima leaned back, not interested in the other's bickering, "Kuroo, shut up." 

Yamaguchi gave Kuroo an exasperated look. They had developed a bit of a banter that bordered on genuine complaint.  It annoyed Tsukishima, but he was glad they had resolved their brief hostility towards one another. "I know. I just like the author, Dostoevsky." 

"Oh, yeah? What's your favorite book by him?" 

Yamaguchi looked forward, staring off into nothing. "The Gambler." 

On the tv, a Komodo dragon scarfed down some carrion, flicking its tongue in and out of it's mouth. Yamaguchi closed the book. 

"Turn the TV off." 

"What?" 

"Turn the TV off." 

Tsukishima did. Yamaguchi stood, alert, his eyes wild. He took a gun from the inner lining of his jacket. "Do not- in my house-", Kuroo hissed, but Yamaguchi cut him off with a "Shh!" 

Without looking at Kuroo and Tsukishima, he spoke quietly. "Get upstairs. Someone's here." 

"Yamaguchi..." 

Tsukishima sounded a bit pained, though he was trying to be comforting. Yamaguchi was stretched so thin, so deeply antagonized by memory, moments like this were now constantly happening. He and Kuroo had quietly noted the day before when Yamaguchi started wearing the beat up, old dark jacket around the house that contained the pistol. It made Tsukishima's heart sink, a bit. He didn't want the other man to be embarrassed when his assailant turned out to be as imaginary as the other noises that disturbed him. 

"Upstairs, please." 

Tsukishima looked at Kuroo, who shrugged. He and Tsukishima slowly countered the stairs, Yamaguchi guarding the way behind them. They ducked into the master bedroom, sitting behind the large framed bed, Yamaguchi barely peaking out over the side. His gun was still drawn. 

Minutes passed. Silence. 

Kuroo looked at Yamaguchi with pity, then at Tsukishima. He nudged the blond, slightly. Tsukishima awkwardly placed a hand on Yamaguchi's shoulder. "I don't... I don't think anyone is here. Do you want to go try to rest some-" 

The sound of the front door opening from downstairs echoed through the house. Tsukishima and Kuroo were immediately at attention. Someone was here. Kuroo put a hand up to where he had been hit the last time the house had been broken into, his face hardening. Tsukishima's heart thundered through his body. There was a crash, then some shuffling of feet. 

Yamaguchi cocked his head to the side, then nodded to himself. "It's one person, maybe two, at the very most." He stood. "I'm going to go sort this out." His face was vacant again, so strange and distant. 

"We're coming with you.", Tsukishima said. 

Kuroo nodded in agreement. He rifled through the bedside table's drawer and extracted a pink taser. The two other men gave him a look, but Kuroo simply turned off the safety. "Bought it after the break in." Yamaguchi realized he couldn't argue with them. 

Slowly, slowly. 

Yamaguchi turned each corner so sharply, like the men Tsukishima had seen in cop shows. This wasn't acting, though. The sounds continued from downstairs. He found himself wishing he had something in his hands. So, this was the fear Yamaguchi always had. The terror that an any time, someone who wanted to hurt you could find you. Could be just beyond a flight of stairs. His nightmares made more and more sense each day. They descended without noise, too scared to breathe, to even sweat. Yamaguchi led the way, a steeliness in his eyes. 

It was the calmest Tsukishima had seen him in days. 

Another crash, followed by a "Ah, shit-" 

Tsukishima registered that the voice was familiar as they sprang from around the corner, but it was already too late. Yamaguchi, gun pointed. Kuroo, taser drawn. Tsukishima, just there but hopefully exuding some kind of intimidating aura. 

Bokuto Kotaro, one of Japan's top professional volleyball players, stared at them, his mouth gaping open. There was some broken glass in front of him, a cup that had been knocked off the counter. His fiancee, Akaashi Keiji reentered the room with a broom from the houses's cupboard, "Honestly, Bokuto-San, you need to watch where you're-" 

He stopped in his tracks when he saw Kuroo, Yamaguchi, and Tsukishima. 

"Oh, my."