Chapter Text
Dread settled in the pit of Tsukishima’s stomach and froze into heavy shards of ice in the cool air conditioning of the airport. The shards jabbed him from the inside with sharp nervousness and he wished he could leave. Pale gold eyes glanced at his watch for the nth time that morning. Time was moving simultaneously too fast and too slow. On one hand, it was moving too fast because he didn’t want to deal with his homestay brother. In fact, his whole day - no, his whole year - would be brightened if Sugawara didn’t turn up at all. The resulting panicked phone calls and police investigations over a missing student abroad would be but a minor inconvenience.
However, that thought was unrealistic and there was nothing Tsukishima could do to stop him from coming. Thus, on the other hand, time moved too slowly. He wanted to have these three months over and done with as quickly as possible so he could simply get on with his life in peace.
Glaring at his watch wouldn’t make its arms move faster either. With an exasperated “Tch!” Tsukishima slipped his headphones over his ears. Before he closed his eyes he caught the disapproving look his father, Akio, shot at him. Tsukishima couldn’t care less. Akio had long since given up telling him to take off those headphones, complaining about how antisocial he was being. What was the point in taking them off when he was surrounded by idiots?
He leaned against the metal railing, the coldness of the metal pleasant to the touch, a stark contrast to the sweltering heat outside.
The music thrummed in his veins and drowned out the incessant chatter of waiting people around him. He exhaled heavily through his nose. Try as he might, he couldn’t will away the subtle grip of anxiety on his nerves. Tumultuous thoughts clattered and roared in his head until each one tangled together to form one luminous thread that led to an almost prophetic hypothesis.
At best, these three months were going to be trying, if not strained.
He could already see it in his mind’s eye as the music continued to pulse in time with his nervousness.
Previous exchange students who went to Japan always gushed about how quickly their stay went and how they wished they could have stayed for longer. Not Tsukishima. He hadn’t forgotten how he had counted down the days he could come back home. It matched up poorly to his expectations. Perhaps it was a mixture of culture shock and awkwardness. Despite being Japanese himself, he found the unspoken social rules suffocating.
Still, he hoped that Sugawara’s experience in New Zealand would be different. True, he didn’t like the guy but it would be preferable if they got along. That would be the best case scenario and would make these coming three months easier for everyone. Especially Tsukishima. He made a mental note to try and be more...agreeable? Other people, like Akio, called it being agreeable, sociable and friendly. He called it other names like “fake” and “insincere”. In short, all he had to do was the exact opposite of what he actually wanted to do for it to go smoothly.
It wasn’t that Sugawara was a horrible and unpleasant person. Quite the opposite, in fact. Tsukishima could see a lot of reasons why people would like Sugawara. Yet, somehow, they simply didn’t get along during his stay in the Sugawara household.
“Tsukishima!” The source of Tsukishima’s troubles announced his arrival in the brightest, cheeriest voice that was not dissimilar to little silver bells. It grated on Tsukishima’s nerves.
He donned the mask: smooth, relaxed features and cheeks lifted into a small but pleasant smile that probably didn't reach his eyes. “Sugawara-san,” He chimed brightly, “It's good to see you again.” Urgh...go home.
As he thought, Sugawara looked like he had brought his entire closet. Tsukishima eyed the excessively large suitcase precariously balanced on the trolley with thinly veiled distaste. The rational side of his mind reasoned that it made sense: Bring along a massive suitcase to fill with presents to take back home for friends and family. However, the irrationally irritated side of Tsukishima screamed, Everything he does is annoying!
Pushing the thought aside, Tsukishima remembered that he was supposed to be getting along swimmingly with Sugawara. “You must be tired from your flight,” He shooed Sugawara away gently and pushed the trolley for him. “I’ll take this for you.”
Sugawara shook his head slightly in shock, tousled silver-grey hair jerking with the motion. His light brown eyes widened. “T-thanks.”
Good! He remembers that we don’t get along. Hopefully he’ll get the hint and cooperate, thought Tsukishima. He still wasn’t entirely positive about the arrangement though.
Akio beamed with the force of 10,000 suns at his son’s uncharacteristic display of thoughtful consideration. Tsukishima concentrated intensely on pushing the trolley to the waiting car while Akio and Sugawara promptly engaged themselves in idle chatter behind him.
Outside the sound of cicadas crackled like boiling oil and heat rose up from the tarmac in a shimmering haze. As soon as they reached the car and the booth clicked open Sugawara rushed forward to move his luggage. As he lifted it off the trolley the suitcase toppled off ungracefully onto his toe.
Tsukishima watched silently with mounting concern. He caught the painful wince on Sugawara’s face before he hid it behind another one of those disgustingly lovely smiles of his that sparkled with perfectly straight, white teeth. It was the worst smile Tsukishima had ever seen.
Sugawara continued to try lifting his suitcase into the booth, his arms shook with the effort.
Before Tsukishima could do anything about Sugawara’s arms snapping beneath the weight of his luggage Akio rushed forward, always so eager to please. “No, no. Let me.” He placed a hand over his heart. “You're a guest here, after all.”
It seemed that Sugawara and Akio were of the same species. “Oh, no! That wouldn’t be appropriate, Tsukishima-san.” Sugawara raised his hands in surprise before quickly clamping them down on the suitcase before it rolled away.
“Please, call me otou-san while you’re here. And I insist!” Akio gestured with open palms.
They continued back and forth while Tsukishima dripped with sweat from the oppressive heat and stifling humidity. Or was it from his impatience ticking dangerously close to inflamed vexation?
Wordlessly, he stepped around Akio, picked up Sugawara’s luggage and dumped it unceremoniously into the booth.
“Nice, Tsukishima! You're so strong.”
Tsukishima closed the booth with a satisfying slam.
“Yes, I am,” he said flatly and turned to Akio. “Can we leave now?”
+
The car ride home was relatively uneventful. Tsukishima basked in the cool breeze of glorious air conditioning as he wiped away sweat from his brow.
Akio constantly chattered, filling in every bit of silence. Sugawara humoured him and answered all of Akio’s questions about his parents, little brother, school, friends and whatnot.
Vaguely listening to the conversation, Tsukishima didn’t understand why his father would ask these questions at all. As soon as he had returned from Japan Akio had barraged him with endless questions about his homestay family and stopped just short of having Tsukishima write a complete thesis about his experiences as an exchange student. The previous night Tsukishima had even caught Akio rearranging notes he had taken during his lengthy interview. “It’s so we can get along with Sugawara-kun,” Akio reasoned. Despite having lived with his father all his life, Tsukishima couldn’t say that he understood him very well.
At least he didn't have to join in on the conversation. Pohutukawa trees bloomed bright red and their dappled shade slid across the smooth exterior of the car, mimicking the light dancing on the wide river beside the road they drove across. Mangroves lined its muddy shores and cyclists zipped passed them on the bicycle track.
"Why don't you call Kei by his first name?” asked Akio cheerfully. His eyes met Sugawara’s briefly in the rear view mirror.
Tsukishima jolted from his seat. "Don't just decide these things for me!" written all over his face. Maybe he should have paid more attention to the conversation after all.
The leather squeaked as Sugawara shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “I've always called him Tsukishima, so it kind of stuck.”
Sugawara glanced over at Tsukishima with a certain tightness in his eyes that Tsukishima couldn’t interpret.
Subtle hints, small talk and long winded conversations were some of Tsukishima’s least favourite things. He simply didn’t have time for them and Sugawara was no exception to the rule. So he answered with a blank stare. If Sugawara wanted to say something he should just say it.
+
The car finally pulled up to the Tsukishima household along a winding road lined with trees. It was a charming two story home that Tsukishima loved with all his heart. He had lived here all his life. The English-styled house was painted cream white with dusk blue tiles on the roof. The front yard had a fragrant garden with lavender bushes, orchids, calla lilies and freesias, just to name a few.
Once, he had told his friend, Yamaguchi, that he thought the white picket fence fantasy that couples had was gross and nauseating while walking home from school. As they drew closer to his home Tsukishima really looked at his house and realised that he happened to live in one of those ideal houses complete with a white picket fence. He wondered how he hadn’t noticed that before, seeing as he lived in the house. Of course, Yamaguchi had pointed it out, all bubbly laughter. Picket fence or not, Tsukishima loved the house. He vehemently denied that he had a romantic side at all and Yamaguchi laughed even more.
Sugawara stepped out of the car. “Wow!” He walked over to a lavender bush and leaned down to smell the purple flower. His eyes fluttered closed and his face lit up with delight, “I haven’t even been inside yet, but I can tell that your house is amazing.”
Tsukishima couldn’t help the little swell of pride in his chest. That didn’t mean that he found Sugawara excellent company though. Perhaps he really was a cold-hearted asshole like many people said, but Tsukishima couldn’t resist. “Did you know that you can eat lavender?” Romantic people love flowers. Would they eat them? Tsukishima decided to test it out on his unsuspecting homestay brother.
When Tsukishima was at Sugawara’s home he had peeked at some of the novels in Sugawara’s room. They were horrifying and poorly written. Could the lady be any more dense? How was it believable that she did’t want to get married when she’s desperately trying to get married right from the first sentence? The male lead was such a dick. What did she see in him? Those were a few minutes of life Tsukishima could never get back. Sometimes he thought it was karma for snooping around in Sugawara’s room without permission.
“Really?”
“Yes, people on their morning runs used to pick them and eat them right away.” This was not a lie. When Tsukishima was little he had seen runners by his house do just that. It was incredibly rude of them. They should have just asked. He brushed the memory away and focused on the experiment. He made an effort to crinkle his eyes a little into a more convincing smile.
“May I?” Sugawara asked.
“Of course.”
Sugawara reached out a hand tenderly as long, slender fingers carefully plucked a blossom. He sniffed the flower appreciatively again before popping it in his mouth.
Tsukishima watched Sugawara chew, his cheek already quaking with impending laughter. Suddenly, Sugawara’s jaw stopped abruptly and his face pinched inwards.
“BLARGH!!” He coughed and spat out half-chewed bits of lavender onto the ground, trying to wipe off the lingering bitterness from his tongue by licking at his fingers. Saliva smeared on his lips and clung to his fingers in filaments that broke almost instantaneously, only to be recreated when he licked at his fingers again.
Tsukishima laughed and laughed and laughed.
But Sugawara wasn’t laughing.
Sugawara sent Tsukishima a glare so cold and ill-suited to his kind and soft features that Tsukishima ran off to take his luggage into the house.
Tsukishima wasn’t afraid of course. How could he be? What was there to be afraid of? He wasn’t afraid at all.
As his father passed him with tissues in hand, no doubt for Sugawara, he whispered sharply in his ear, “Don’t be so mean to him. Go and apologise.” Akio shoved the tissues into his hands and took the luggage from him.
Tsukishima looked at the tissues in his hands, then he looked at Sugawara whose face was so cold and still with subdued fury that Tsukishima thought he saw frost growing in his silver-grey hair.
He was very, very afraid.
Tense as prey caught in the sights of a predator, Tsukishima stiffly walked over to Sugawara by the lavender bush. “Sorry.” He muttered and vaguely wiped the tissues at Sugawara’s face and hands without really looking at him. As a result Tsukishima wasn’t even entirely sure if he was cleaning up Sugawara properly.
It’s been ten seconds, he’s probably clean now, Tsukishima ran into his house without looking back. His sanctuary where he would be safe from Sugawara’s probable rage.
Then he remembered that Sugawara was going to be living in the house today, tomorrow, the day after that and the next day - he was going to be living with him for three whole months.
+
The sky became a watercolour canvas with oranges, reds and violets splashed across it as the sun began its descent beneath the horizon. In the distance, the windows on the cluster of high-rise buildings that was the city centre glittered and far off hills and valleys silhouetted black against the fading light.
Sugawara had since woken from his nap, still groggy from jet lag. Tsukishima hoped that he would be sleepy enough to think that the whole lavender experiment was a figment of his imagination. Could he pull off convincing Sugawara of that? Probably not, though it would be entertaining to try. Briefly, Tsukishima consulted his logic and determined with a sigh that now would not be a good time to mess with Sugawara. It was only the first day and he had already derailed his own plan to get along with Sugawara.
Nonetheless, he flicked his eyes up briefly from his book to see Sugawara making his way down the stairs. Ever since the lavender experiment they had carefully danced around each other, avoided each other. Of course, that worked out just fine for Tsukishima, but he didn’t spend three months in Sugawara’s home without learning anything. He’d have to deal with Sugawara’s troublesome, bruised, little feelings sooner or later.
As Tsukishima expected, Sugawara came over to the couch by the window where he was reading. In his gentle, unassuming manner Sugawara lingered next to him and looked out the window at the sunset. The soft light of the fading sun brought a rosy warmth to Sugawara’s porcelain skin and gilded his silver hair with slivers of ruby, amber and topaz. The little mark that his eyelashes brushed beneath his eye was a speck of onyx set in his skin.
If Sugawara wasn’t so irritating, Tsukishima would have found him attractive. Sugawara was spending far too much time standing there in silence looking like a statue sculpted by the gods rather than getting straight to the point. If Tsukishima could get back to his book some time during this century, if not sooner, that would be fantastic.
“Even if it’s setting, if you stare at the sun you’ll go blind, Sugawara-san.” Tsukishima pushed his glasses up on his nose and set his book down in his lap.
Sugawara turned to him then and like he always did, gave an answer along with another one of his meaningless, complimentary smiles, “A lot of other things can make you go blind.”
Yea, like your fake smile. Tsukishima held his tongue. “Yes, like mistaking hydrochloric acid for eye treatment,” Tsukishima said instead, more sharply than he meant to. His patience was running thin. “What is it, Sugawara-san?”
“You’re always like this.” Sugawara breathed out a forlorn sigh and he closed his eyes with his brow furrowed.
Tsukishima turned his head away. Even though his eyes were obscured by pale lids Tsukishima could practically feel Sugawara’s hurt radiating from him in tendrils of mist that unfurled in the air, reaching towards him. It was like poisoned incense and it made guilt curl up in Tsukishima’s stomach.
“I’m sorry.” He really meant it this time.
His apology was echoed, rendered from his tempered, even voice to the delicate rise and fall of Sugawara’s cadence. The ocean that was Sugawara’s voice wavered with sadness, “I’m sorry.” There was a long pause and Tsukishima was afraid to look at Sugawara. “That we don’t get along.”
Still reluctant to look at Sugawara, Tsukishima conceded, “We’ll try.”
In his memory he recalled that the timbre of Sugawara’s footsteps was no timbre at all. Only silence. So it was almost impossible to tell where Sugawara was if he was moving around the house. However, Tsukishima heard the rustling of his clothes and the creak of the fifth stair from the top. He knew that Sugawara was gone.
He looked at the place where Sugawara had stood moments before. Nothing remains, save for a warm spot in the carpet where his feet had been. We’ll try. The thought solidified in his mind. I’ll try. He adjusted his glasses and turned back to his book.
+
The rest of the night passed by without incident and Tsukishima was glad. As usual, they performed their strange dance of avoidance after their confrontation at the window. Though Tsukishima wasn’t sure if he could call it much of a confrontation at all. Matters were cleared, he supposed, and that was the only thing that mattered. Whether it was called a confrontation or something else did not concern him.
Night was his favourite time of day. People slept and therefore nobody would be awake to bother him with their trivial problems. He expected this night to be the same even with the addition of Sugawara in his home.
How wrong he was.
It began the same as any other night. Everyone else had already gone to bed and he was the last to quietly meander up the stairs at a leisurely pace. Nobody was up so his brisk pace and perfect posture were abandoned. He moved almost languidly as he made his way to his room. All the shields, defenses and walls he constructed in the morning melted away with the comfort of darkness.
Then a pair of pale arms shot out of the darkness. Tsukishima started when he felt a pair of cold, clammy hands latch onto his own hand.
Sugawara seemed to almost glow in the darkness, but not enough for Tsukishima to read his face. At this point Tsukishima just wanted to go to sleep and his gut twisted uncomfortably as his heart stuttered in his chest. He didn’t want to know what sort of expression Sugawara had right now.
“I have to talk to you.”
Oh, great.
Before Tsukishima could even think Sugawara blurted in a tumble of words, “Can I call you Kei?”
Sugawara’s face was way too close and his breath still smelled like lavender. He was still holding Tsukishima’s hand and Tsukishima absolutely could not tolerate that.
All inhibition and logical thought was abandoned and Tsukishima defaulted to his knee-jerk reaction, which was to say “Yes”, shortly and tersely. He practically leaped out of Sugawara’s grasp before thinking of retracting his statement. Fuck words. They pour out of your mouth and you can’t take them back. “But only when there’s no one around.” He amended quickly before stalking to his room with a frown on his face.