Chapter Text
The sand was still hot under Tsukishima’s feet, retaining the day’s heat as if the night had not fully settled in yet. The murmur of the waves crashing against the shore mingled with the distant music from some bar on the coastal avenue. He had been avoiding looking at his phone, ignoring the unread messages from his boyfriend.
Just thinking about it made his shoulders tense. He didn’t have to respond. Not now.
“Kuroo!” Akaashi’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts. He turned his head and saw a man walking from the shore with a surfboard under his arm. He had sun-kissed skin, his black hair was damp and tousled by the sea breeze. A shell necklace rested on his collarbone and his wrists were adorned with colorful thread bracelets.
He had the vibe of someone who belonged to this place. As if the waves had sculpted him and left him there, with sand stuck to his skin and an easy smile on his lips.
“Akaashi, long time no see!” He greeted, leaving the board on the sand effortlessly. Then his eyes fixed on Tsukishima, and his smile became a bit sharper. “And this fallen angel from heaven?”
Tsukishima frowned. “Excuse me?”
Kuroo tilted his head, studying him shamelessly, as if trying to fit his presence into that scene. “You don’t seem like you’re from around here.” He finally said, crossing his arms.
“I’m not.” Tsukishima replied, the irritation evident in his tone. Kuroo smiled, as if he had liked that answer. As if he was waiting for him to confirm it.
“I knew it. The beach has its own people. We recognize you in seconds.” A hint of ego in his voice and a sly smile made Keiji chuckle softly.
“How convenient, isn’t it?” Tsukishima mumbled, crossing his arms.
“Don’t take it the wrong way, angel. It’s a compliment.” Kuroo turned his head towards Akaashi. “And how long is this city boy visiting us?”
“A few weeks.” Akaashi replied simply, with his usual calm tone. Ignoring the dirty look he received from his best friend next to him.
“Perfect.” Kuroo looked at Tsukishima again with a mischievous expression. “Then I have enough time to make you fall in love with the sea.”
Tsukishima let out a dry laugh. “Good luck with that, surf boy.” But Kuroo didn’t seem discouraged. He just smiled wider, as if he already knew something that Tsukishima didn’t understand yet.
The wind blew harder, tousling both of their hair. Tsukishima looked away first, hiding under his hat, uncomfortable with the intensity in Kuroo’s eyes. He had no idea that, on that night, he was already taking the first step towards something that would make him question everything.
…
The bar was left behind, its warm lights fading into the shadows of the night. With each step, the cold sand sank beneath Tsukishima’s feet, forcing him to adjust his balance with a clumsiness he hated. Kuroo walked a few steps ahead, barefoot, with the ease of someone who belongs to that landscape, as if the sea was calling him and he simply responded.
The wind blew stronger here, carrying the scent of the ocean mixed with the faint trace of salt and alcohol that still lingered in the air. Tsukishima ran his tongue over his lips, sensing that taste on his own skin.
He didn’t know when he stopped thinking about his phone vibrating in his pocket.
Kuroo stopped right where the waves brushed the sand, sinking his feet into the water without flinching. The foam whitened the shore before slowly retreating, leaving a wet reflection of the night sky. He turned on his heels and looked at him with the same ease with which one would look at a sunset. “Do you like the sea?”
Tsukishima frowned at the question. Lowering his gaze to the dark expanse that stretched before them, where the water blended with the night until it became a single endless void. He had never stopped to think about it. For him, the sea had always been a foreign concept, a postcard on the city’s advertising screens, an excuse for people to escape.
And now he was here, escaping.
“I don’t know,” he replied, his own voice sounding more distant than he expected.
Kuroo tilted his head, his smile barely visible in the dim light. “You’re a tough guy, huh?”
Tsukishima averted his gaze, burying his hands in the pockets of his shorts. “I don’t have to answer pointless questions.”
“You’re right.” Kuroo let a wave cover his ankles before continuing. “So, tell me something easier...” His tone changed, a bit lowered, as if what he was about to say needed to be heard in a whisper.
“How much longer do you plan to be with someone who doesn’t make you happy?”
The air got stuck in his lungs. The sound of the waves suddenly seemed to amplify, as if the sea was waiting for his response with the same intensity as Kuroo. Tsukishima felt his jaw tense reflexively, the weight of the silence pressing on his chest. “That’s none of your business.” He said, with more edge than necessary.
Kuroo didn’t flinch.
“No, it isn’t.” His gaze didn’t waver, dark and deep, reflecting the moonlight on the water. “But if someone doesn’t stop looking at their phone with a face that says they want to throw it into the ocean, it makes me curious.”
Tsukishima narrowed his eyes, his skin prickling as he remembered the last notification he had read before Akaashi dragged him out of the bar.
“We can talk when you come back. Please.”
I didn’t want to talk. He didn’t want to go back.
“It’s not that simple,” he murmured, more to himself than to Kuroo.
“Nothing is.” The other whispered, with a certainty that made him shudder.
The wind filtered between them, swaying Kuroo’s dark strands, catching the light on the curve of his collarbone, right where his shell necklace rested against his skin. The expression on his face no longer held the carefree mockery from before.
“If you’re not happy, what’s stopping you?” He asked, without breaking eye contact.
Tsukishima felt a knot form in his throat.
What was stopping him?
The habit. The guilt.
The image of dark eyes and a voice that used to sound different in his head, warmer, less hurtful. The feeling that love was supposed to be difficult, because if it didn’t hurt, it wasn’t worth it.
Kuroo sighed softly and looked away, focusing on the horizon. “You know...” His voice dropped a little more, as if he was speaking to the sea instead of him. “There are things we can only decide when we are far away from everything. As if the ocean swallowed the part of us that keeps us tied down.”
Tsukishima glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, his words sinking deeper than he was willing to admit. “Has that happened to you?”
Kuroo shrugged, with a smile that didn’t seem entirely genuine. “Let’s say that the sea has heard more secrets than I would like to admit.”
The wind blew harder, making his thread bracelets jingle against his skin. Tsukishima followed the movement of his hands, the lines of salt that marked his knuckles, the grooves in his skin that betrayed years under the sun.
There was something in the way Kuroo spoke about the sea that made him think he was also escaping from something.
And if the sea kept secrets, then maybe it was about to keep one more.