Work Text:
Yamaguchi could destroy him, and Tsukishima knew it.
To his one friend, he is glass. It would only be too simple to rip him apart from the inside out.
Yamaguchi accepted him. Every conversation, every laugh, it was him saying, I'm here. I'm not going to leave. Trust me.
Tsukishima almost regretted it some days, when his anxiety pounded at his head and 'he hates you' is the only thing he could think about.
But with another blinding smile from the beautiful boy, it all dissolved.
It was worth it, he thought.
It was worth it for the days and days of bliss, of tired morning kisses and falling asleep in his warm embrace.
Worth it for late-night volleyball sessions and the silent walks with shared headphones.
It was worth it, he thinks, the swirling black water beckoning him.
He takes a step forward, seeing everything in sharp clarity and a dull blur at the same time.
The end didn't matter, really. Having to hold a dying man's hand and watch the life drain out of his eyes didn't matter when, for a fleeting moment, the glass boy could fall in love before he broke.
But he's been broken for a while now. He shattered when he found that he wasn't the only one who was glass, and not the only one who could mask their feelings.
He shattered when the only one he had ever loved died in his arms, blood stains on the floor and the faint sound of someone screaming.
He shattered when he came to the painful reality that some things were just made to break.
So, he thinks. I died a long time ago.
Stepping off the ledge, he tries to think of the moments of bliss, and not the breaking. Of a freckled, brown-haired boy who had not yet been broken, and another who was cracked, but could still be loved.