Chapter Text
After that… strange goodbye, Yamaguchi stayed uneasy. Well, it wasn’t common Tsukki, his biggest crush, his childhood platonic love, had shown him affection in his own weird way. After the awkward past days, full of words unsaid and hidden sighs, it was even weirder. It was something his tickles could not prevent. Yamaguchi felt the adrenaline running through his veins, like it was a marathon in there. He didn’t want the contact to end there; he didn’t want that interaction to be a slip, a mere fantasy that feeds his love for it to be just that, ephemeral, to let all those insinuations, the suggestive comments, and flirty jokes of the past months end up in a maybe. They flirted, they were getting closer, and closer and closer. It wasn’t his imagination, Tsukki flirted back, even just a bit, even without noticing, but he was.
He didn’t like to feel the uneasiness of what-ifs; he didn’t want to look back at himself and think what it could’ve been, that it could’ve been him. What order was he following for not giving the first step? What was stopping him? Why couldn’t he? If he saved the city every time a madman with indecipherable codes shot at nothing in the middle of the night, stopping fires, fighting against semi-droids, and saving people from getting hurt, he could confess to his crush.
But he was scared. He was scared of rejection so bad, of being alone, of being left behind by the most important person in his life. And a few days ago, he made his choice. He would shut down his love if it meant keeping Tsukki safe. It was the logical answer, even if it killed his heart.
Then Tsukki hugged him.
And his determination fumbled.
It was torture, watching Tsukki's back as he walked back to his house. If he wanted, he could reach him; he was still on time. He could touch his shoulder, and Tsukki would turn around. They will look into each other's eyes and feel the air disappear from their lungs. There won’t be a need for words; only their mingled breaths and their love-dazzling eyes would be enough for them to understand it. And they would hug under the moonlight, and kiss with the star’s blessing. And it would be perfect.
He could do it. He could be selfish; he could not care.
So he wanted to run. But a tightness in his chest stopped him. For a moment, he thought it was imminent danger, that something was about to happen, but it wasn't his new instinct. It was a different feeling, but one so familiar...
It was brutal, devastating, a panic that could only crawl from the pit of the stomach and climb up, burning every bone and every muscle. As many times before, he tried to ignore it. To avoid the damn anxiety. But then his 10-year-old self begged, shouting and crying, for him to stop there. To know better. He would only get hurt, because how could Tsukishima love him back? How could he forgive all the lies about being a superhero behind his back? He wasn’t worthy. He wasn’t enough. What gave him the idea that he could have Tsukki and a hero's life at the same time?
He couldn’t, and he knows it.
Then Tsukki hugged him.
And the feeling lingered in his arms longer than it needed to. As a temptation, the forbidden fruit was ready for him to eat. He wanted just a taste so badly it hurt. A fleeting second would be enough for his heart to be satisfied and his mind quiet. For all the what-ifs to disappear and just once, say he was loved.
The scale was chaotic. On the one hand, he had his duty and his decision to resign to live with his love as a secret forever. On the other hand, he desired to be selfish, to be careless about getting what he wanted. Why couldn’t this be the normal difficulty for a high school student? Why did the game have to jump a hundred levels? He felt like fighting a big final boss with a wooden sword, completely defenseless, completely useless.
It was happening again, like that time a few months ago, when he was discovering his veiled ambition, that urge deep down that screamed for him to be noticed, and at the same time, he had a voice that stopped him from wanting. That time, he picked the voice.
He turned into an alley behind the intersection, just to take a deep breath. He thought of Tsukki, his undying love for him, his endless, eternally in love sighs, and how the words Tsukki said to him echoed inside his brain. ‘You are actually cool,’ Tsukki’s voice whispered in his ear. With that tone full of wonder and amusement, as if he could not believe the person in front of him. ‘I was just asking, in case you were talking to Yachi or something,’ it echoed, feeling the chills, the excitement that maybe Tsukishima was indeed jealous.
‘I miss you.’
Tsukishima once said to him. Confessed. In a hushed voice, saying the words quickly, as if they were to be missed. And charged with a feeling Yamaguchi very deep down knew was there, but wouldn’t dare to look further. If he didn’t see it, feel it, why would he flirt so obviously? Why would he keep insisting on forgetting the boundaries, of letting his social filter die? That wasn’t because of the spider. A bite could do up to a point, but a complete change of personality? That was on him: interpreting the new feeling of his body as new confidence. It was the confidence he had all along, finding an excuse to get out. His social filter’s extinction was caused by a meteor called Yamaguchi, propelled by a man called Tsukishima.
So now he picked ambition.
There were so many things he wanted to do, to ask, to feel. But it wasn’t like he could do it incognito, right? It’s not like he had a secret identity and a suit under his clothes…
Right?
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
“Hey Tsukki~!” He heard someone calling. He turned, looking for the sound he refused to recognize. Only one person called him Tsukki, and he should already be in his house, under his blankets, facing the fiercest and bloodiest battle against turning off his phone and getting some sleep. “Up here, blondie.” They said, giggling. So now he had two people who called him Tsukki. One was terribly annoying and impossible to hate. That was worse.
“Spiderman?” He asked, knowing the answer well.
“The one and only.” The hero responded. He wanted to ignore him, to go away. But something held him back. Maybe it was curiosity, or maybe familiarity, but it pulled him to the man.
“What are you doing here?” His voice was surly, sharp.
“Wow, we’re ending the day angry, aren’t we?” He teased. “Well, nothing special, going around the city a bit, saving someone over there, and now I find my favorite blonde in the middle of the sidewalk. Coincidences are so nice, don’t ‘ya think?”
“Okay, you saw me, go.”
“Awwww, don’t ruin the party, Tsukki! C’mon, let’s chat for a bit, you can’t talk to a superhero every day; don’t miss your chance!” It’s true that if he told Hinata this the next day, the tangerine would be pissed. And it would be funny, he considered.
“I’m not interested. Go.” He ended up deciding it was too dangerous. The suspicion was still there, evident as ever. He did not want to see what was obviously in front of him. So he'd better run while he still can.
“Nope.” And why does he need to make this more difficult than it is?
“Go away.”
“No, thank you.”
“Out.”
“Ah-ah!” He was losing his patience.
“Don’t you get tired?”
“I can do this all day, pretty boy, so you will need to change your strategy.” He really can’t get used to being called pretty. Not this crazy man with hero delusions, nor anyone. If he could stop the blushing, he would.
“And there it goes! You are cute… nervous, Tsukki?” And of course, he saw it. Shit.
“What do I have to do for you to vanish? And stop calling me that!”
“Stay with me, just for a while, and I’ll go away happy, my dear, sharp blonde gave me a little bit of his time.” Under the mask, he felt the wink.
“Fine, you win.” If that was the only way… he’ll brag about this to Hinata endlessly. He’ll do it even though it greatly offended him.
“Come up here!” The hero asked.
“There? No way. I can not climb.”
“I’ll help you!” Tsukishima looked at him skeptically. “I promise I won't make it scary!” He remained silent, and the hero took it as a yes. In one second, he jumped off the roof and got in front of him, hanging by his web. Immediately, he took him by the waist and, as promised, slowly and carefully tugged both of them up. “The sight is beautiful, isn’t it?” He asked calmly when they got safely to the roof.
“A bit.” The hero laughed a little; maybe he was amused by his lack of reaction, but he would not give him the satisfaction of enjoying anything to do with him, even if he enjoyed it.
“Tell me something abput you, Tsukki.”
“I’ve told you to stop calling me that.”
“Why? Someone already took the name? Am I getting sued for copyright?” He used that tone that dropped in the last word a few notes, so addictive.
“You don’t care.”
“I already asked, so, if you answer, I’ll let you ask me a question, anything you’d like to know besides my name and that type of things, deal?” He considered the hero’s proposal, and it was tempting. Dangerous, but tempting. He shouldn’t agree; it’s probably a mistake to accept.
“Deal.” He said.
“Alriiiiiiiight, tell me, why is that nickname so important?” The hero tilted his head, only an inch, analyzing, scrutinizing.
“Fine, someone already calls me that.” He tried not to give too many details, as if that very specific topic was the only thing in his head living rent-free, that and the identity of this man, but he said he was NOT gonna think about it until the tournament and the exams pass. It’s almost like his feelings and doubts about Yamaguchi were breathing down his neck, following him everywhere; he could not escape.
“Noooooooooo, my poor heart! My blonde already has a girlfriend!” The hero dramatized. He even did the mimic of being stabbed in the heart. Multiple times. Dramatic. Pathetic.
“I don’t have a girlfriend! You idiot!”
“Boyfriend? Partner? Friend with benefits? Situationship? Non-official relationship? Non-committed, long-term, long-distance boyfriend?”
“No, no, no, no, no, and from Ken I only have the blonde part, so no.” He said, irritated. Why did he agree to this?
“So?”
“You are so intense, curious, and annoying.” Spiderman nodded, almost as if he was proud. “Why did I agree to this?” There wasn’t even a need for an answer to that, and the hero seemed to notice; he didn’t push him further. Almost knowing he was actually gonna answer, and actually gonna stay. “My best friend, okay? He is the only person who calls me that, and I li-TOLERATE- calling me that.” He tried to correct.
“No, no, no, that was not the deal! Only the unfiltered truth.”
“God, you are not leaving me alone”. Tsukishima said, irritated. Almost irritated. Pretending irritation, the hero was reading him like a damn open book. And that was worse. Because how would he know?
“If you don’t tell me, I’m taking you to the other end of the city.” And they both knew it was bulshit. And still Tsukishima spoke.
“Fine! I like it when he calls me that! Happy now?” The hero seemed so. Way too happy knowing that.
“And why?” The voice sounded drowned in happy chemicals. Which is weird. Because they don’t know each other, and it’s the second time they're speaking. Two times more than he deems necessary. Almost.
“You'd better answer anything I ask you, because I swear I’m putting my dignity at risk telling you this.” Maybe it’s the mask the man wears that makes him feel confident enough to say these things, the protection of anonymity, or maybe the familiarity surrounding every single word they speak. So he talks. “It's because he's the only one who's put up with my tantrums, my drama, and my sometimes truly awful temper, and somehow, he's been there for me my whole life. Yams is the most loyal person I've ever known, and the only one I can talk to. When he's not around, something's missing. It's strange; some days I feel, if he weren't here, my life would fall apart. I’d be completely alone. And of course, I can't tell him any of this! Or anyone else, for that matter! So now, you need to stop with the questions because there are so many things I don’t know and I absolutely don’t want to ask either him or, worse, myself. I don’t want to think abput all the things I could not know and have yet to discover, okay?” The hero looked at him, trying to find any words to say. So now he gets mute. Well done, Tsukishima, you broke the chatterbox. He thought the hero was trying to think of some advice, but he didn’t want it, so he went ahead and stopped him. “Save yourself the advice and all that shit, leave it there.”
“Shoot.” The hero said instead. And he felt like he could breathe again. So he thought about how to phrase his question.
“So, it’s very obvious you are not an adult. At least not a responsible one.”
“Ouch!” He ignored the complaint.
“Why are you playing to be a hero, literally risking your life for people you’ve never met, a lot of them see you as a threat? Why do you find it amusing to be here, asking questions to a random guy you saved once? That’s my question. Why?” They stayed silent for a few seconds, processing each word.
“Wow, so we got deep, huh?” The hero started, trying to light the mood. “If I’m being completely honest, I don’t really know.” And there it was, that glimpse. The dangerous glimpse that got him closer to a truth he wasn’t ready to confront. Watching the man look at the city from that roof in the night, so painfully vulnerable, made him think maybe all that shit talk, and flirting and annoying attitude, was the same as his sharp words: a wall. “Alright, I’m gonna tell you something that, for obvious reasons, I haven’t told any soul. I didn’t really want to do this.” Tsukishima turned surprised; that was new. When the walls are down, when the scene clears, when the director yells ‘cut,’ there are a few seconds where you can see the pure nude honesty. You can see the beating heart, and the breathing lungs, and you can almost touch the untouchable soul of a person pretending. Spiderman was pretending. The person behind the mask was pretending. He was pretending. And he could see it with the almost unnoticeable trembling sigh the hero breathes after pronouncing, maybe for the first time, those words. And he was the one listening. “I used to ask for normal things, like being noticed, or getting better at something, or standing out from the crowd!” He moved his hands, trying to hold onto something. “And then the universe gave me these strange spider-like powers while being a full arachnophobic. Ironic, right? Yeah, I had that want of being more and be better and all that Disney princess bullshit, but it was always to be normal, having normal worries, living a normal life, and have that short spotlight moment. So yeah, I guess it just happened the first time I saved someone, a woman. She was stuck in a car in the middle of a robbery, or a fight, or maybe something like that. I saw her, nobody helping her. I was wearing anything that could hide my identity, not because I was trying to be a hero, just so my parents wouldn't catch me if I were on TV when I was supposed to be studying; I ran to her, somehow pulled her out. She looked at me, terrified, because of the violence, or maybe it was that mask I found somewhere and tried to mend it terribly… and then she thanked me.” The hero took a deep, incredulous breath, remembering, reliving. “That day, when I got back to my house, I tried to make a suit, and sew the mask better. The next night was the first shooting, and the rest is history.” He looked at the stars, trying to find the answers he didn’t have, not yet. “I can only remember how I looked at myself in a broken glass and thought, ‘if I hadn’t been there, people would’ve died’, and that is so unfair!” He laughed a little. “From all people, from all possibilities, it happened to me! The worst option for saving people! But here we are, there’s no why, there’s only something I let grow too fast just to feel a little special for a moment.” It was curious, Tsukishima felt a connection to the man, but not the one with the mask. The one beneath it. They could take each other to a new level, accept difficult, painful things about themselves. Truths that are kept hidden. That's what love does. “But hey, it’s not all that depressing or grown-up, I enjoy it! It’s fun to see the amused faces, and oh, the wind in your face jumping from a building is glory!” He turned his head, and their eyes met. Even though he couldn't see beyond the white net concealing the hero's identity, he felt those eyes with a profound emotion. It was the same feeling he knew. That avalanche of elephants in his chest, their footsteps echoing throughout his body. His usually cool head transformed into a zoo of dinosaurs. Without realizing it, the two were drawing closer; it was a fantasy, a beautiful fantasy. One he knew too well, one he wanted to live desperately. He didn’t want to think abput his feelings for Yamaguchi, the hidden truths and obvious lies. And here, right in front of him, he had someone who resembled him so much that it felt like they were the same person. So he could pretend. He could use the anonymity in his favor. And he was abput to yield to the persuasion. Instead, he cleared his throat, breaking the bubble they had created after sharing a part of themselves that could not come out without a mask in between.
“I should go.” He said in a low voice, as if someone might hear them.
“It’s okay, blondie.” He answered. They climbed down from the roof, clinging to the web. When Tsukishima touched the ground, Yamaguchi, summoning his newfound courage, leaped toward the intersection sign. He securely attached his web to the sign and descended until he was level with Tsukishima. Like a spider, he hung upside down. “It's time to say goodbye, huh, handsome?” He can’t get used to all those flirty nicknames.
“I guess so, hero.” It didn’t mean he could not answer. The closeness was imminent. What was to come was too. There was only one way to break that tension. Tsukishima closed the distance and, with his hands, pulled Yamaguchi's mask down to just above his lips, below his nose.
“Taking the initiative?” The hero joked in whispers that felt like screaming.
“Shut up, Spiderman.” Oh, how funny.
Before he could answer, Tsukishima grabbed his cheeks and brought him closer to his lips. They met awkwardly. Neither of them had ever done that before. But it didn't matter. It felt warm, warm, and familiar. It felt like those lips had been made to meet, like they needed each other. It felt like an eternity after they understood how it worked, but it was only a few fleeting seconds before they were separated. Despite the barrier, they looked into each other's eyes. The fog in their minds dissipated. The hero was smiling; he couldn’t avoid it. Tsukishima's face was priceless, his eyes wide and his face flushed red. He seemed completely bewildered by what he'd done.
“Goodbye, hero.”
And he walked away.
He couldn’t feel his heart; it was beating so fast it was seamless. He did what his instinct wanted; he used the anonymity to do something he had been dying to do for months. And now he could not stop thinking about it.
They would not be able to stop thinking about it.
Holy fucking shit, they kissed.
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
“Yamaguchi Tadashi, sometimes you don't think!” Yachi shouted after telling her about the previous day's events.
“I DID think about it! It was just spontaneous!” He tried to defend himself.
"You were thinking with your hormones, how come you kissed Tsukishima?!"
"In my defense, he kissed me!"
"Sure, after you flirted with him, how could you even look him in the face?! How could I see you two together knowing you kissed?!" And now Yachi kept pacing back and forth in his room; she’ll leave a gap all the way to the floor below. To stop her, he aimed at the floor where she would take her next step, and gently fired, timing it perfectly so that he stuck her to the ground. Yachi stared at the spiderweb at her feet, somewhat confused, ceasing her babble.
“I can't get used to you being able to do that. In-
“Ten minutes. Give it ten minutes before cutting it; it lasts depending on the strength I use to shoot it.” He explained.
“How do you know that?” As an answer, he pointed indiscreetly upwards, seeing pieces of cobweb firmly stuck to the ceiling, and others slowly coming loose.
“I was bored.” She kept her eyes up, not knowing if she should still be surprised or not.
“Alright.” She sighed. “So, as I’m going to be stuck here for the next ten minutes, I have a question.” Yamaguchi looked at her, telling her with his eyes to ask. “Have something happened with all the attacks and that? After that press conference, I haven’t seen anything new, and that was a while ago.” She asked, scared, as if it were a forbidden topic. It kinda was; the past weeks, he tended to forget a little about the big scheme, feelings, and all that. And also, the real possibility of dealing with the Yakuza was absolutely mortifying. So he played pretend; every attack he stopped was unrelated unless he found one of those pieces of paper.
“Well, if I’m being completely honest, I don’t want to dig into that. I see a crime, go to stop it and pray for no one to find me.” He said nervously. “I know, I know that it is probably the Yakuza, and I know that it is super dangerous, and I know I’m putting my and the people who surround me lives at a great risk, and I’m probably irresponsible, and a terrible hero, and wasn’t built for this-
“Yams.” Yachi stopped him. “You are not a terrible hero, and you are not irresponsible! You are doing your best to keep everyone safe!”
“Yachi, I’m losing my mind because I can’t stop thinking and overanalyzing a hero’s moral compass and actions, to what should I do and what I want to do, I feel horrible for considering using my powers for selfish reasons, and yet I don’t find in myself an inch of guilt for using them a bit at the club, or for kissing Tsukki. It’s an eternal contradiction between me and myself where I decide something and end up doing the exact opposite. I don’t even know myself, although I’ve been trying to find out since I got these powers, and slowly I’m starting to lose the line of Yamaguchi, Spiderman, and everything in between, and it’s exhausting. It’s too much, I don’t know how I’m handling it…”
Because, knowing by the very principle of heroes, the number one rule for them to exist is that there must be a villain.
And either he hasn’t been close to the villain in his story, or he was trying to be oblivious and pretend it didn’t exist.
“I think that, maybe, it’s harder now because you are not relying on anyone.” She said using that small voice meant for when she felt she may be overstepping. “I mean, I’m not saying that you should, but that you can rely on me, even a little. I’m no expert, and I don’t pretend to know anything you are going through… but I know your secret, and even if I can’t help you solve crimes, I can hear you, and that could help.” Yamaguchi didn’t think of that. He’s indeed been closer to Yachi because she found him, but it’s not like he actually trusted her with all his thoughts other than Tsukki. And she’s right, he's been making everything harder than it should be by keeping his mouth shut and trying to avoid the serious part of the deal.
“I found, in some of the attacks, some weird pieces of paper. I have no clue what they mean. I tried to solve them, with 0 use, only on the first few days. After that, I abandoned them.” He said, getting up from his bed, looking for a box where (after the desk incident) he kept the things he’d found. He got it and began taking what he had: the useless bomb, the notebook where he wrote the codes, and a few things he assumed were evidence but wasn’t actually sure. “Okay, so, the sphere here is a bomb-
“A WHAT?!” Yachi yelled in panic.
“It’s not gonna explode!!” He explained. “It’s defective!”
“How can you be so sure of that?!” She tried to escape from the web ineffectively; there were a couple of minutes left for them to loosen up. “You have a bomb! A literal bomb! We are going to die! It’s over! We’re dead!”
“I found it in the middle of a room on fire, lying on gasoline! If it didn’t explode then, it’s not gonna explode ever!” He said. “And also when I found out it was a bomb, I put it under water just in case!” He put the thing back down on the box. Yachi seemed skeptical, but at least not terrified till her bones. Once he made sure she was feeling better, he continued. “And then I have the codes. They have no clues, no pattern I could analyze, and there is nothing. Only letters and numbers, I can’t understand. Eventually, I gave up. If the best investigators couldn’t figure them out, how could I do it?” He said, giving her the notebook while she untied herself from the net.
8705062711HTSM
6503301501HTSM
4321340403HTSM
Those were the transcripts from the notes he found in the criminal's pockets, one even the night of Tsukki’s attack. At first sight, they didn’t make any sense. Watching them, he began spiraling again.
If people needed him, it's because someone is attacking them. That same person who was behind the fire, the shooting, the humanoid android, and all those people who are arrested for no reason for shooting at nothing.
As if it were a warning of danger.
They were trying to understand what they were seeing, trying to make some sense of it. The investigators said it, the government backed it up, it all pointed in that direction… but it didn’t look like Yakuza’s work. The Yakuza was silent, lethal, but they didn’t need a trademark when they struck. That was before; now everyone knew, but no one dared to mention. They were a secret truth, whispered knowledge that people didn’t dare to say out loud. Letting even the name pass through the tip of the tongue felt like a death sentence if you were in the wrong place. Maybe it was a new mafia? A new organization? What was happening in the shadows?
It was a world he wasn’t ready for. He could not even confess to his crush; he wasn’t gonna face the Yakuza, or a new mafia, or any criminal anti-structure organization society birthed. He took a deep breath, finally facing something he was ignoring.
“I thi-
A tap on the window interrupted him. It was weird. The sound was too deliberate to be wind, but his room was on the second floor. And nobody knocked on the door or rang the bell at the house. The window opened slowly, every agonizing inch by itself. There was no one behind it, and still it moved. He bumped his side with the wooden bed legs, trying to step away, the pain rising up his spine. Yachi was paralyzed, speechless. Then the window stopped. And the next second, thud! A black thick envelope fell from the sky and went through the open window, making his heart and himself jump from the noise. The window closed on it’s own, leaving a deadly silence in the room. Not even their breaths could be heard. He tried to reach that thing, but it started getting blurry. The room spun, and he was disoriented. He didn't know how, but he managed to open the envelope.
“Wh… wha…” Yachi whispered. Her voice was barely there; it barely existed, but he heard it like a scream.
Then he dropped the contents of the envelope.
The silence exploded in noise, his erratic breaths and his loud heartbeat rumbling in his ears. He didn’t know if he was crying or not; he could hear whimpers and terrified sighs, but he didn’t know if it was him. Yachi was probably saying something. He could only see the unfocused color of her hair, feeling his head too heavy for his neck to hold up. He didn’t feel it per se, but he knew by the bounce of his head against the floor that he had fallen. And then he felt everything turning off.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Yachi was on the verge of her heart stopping, watching Yamaguchi faint and now unconscious on the floor, next to him, scattered like a puzzle, photos. So many photos.
Photos of him, of his house, of his suit.
And in the middle of them, the one Yamaguchi was holding… A photo of Tsukki one day when they were leaving the school.
Someone else had discovered his identity.
Someone dangerous, someone evil. Someone you could probably call…
A villain.
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
The morning of the next game was silent. After fainting, Yamaguchi could not eat well, or sleep well, or be anything other than a bundle of nerves. The reflexes he gained were lost in an instant. He was in danger, a grave, grave danger, and not just him. All his family, friends, and everyone around him.
All because he tried to play hero.
To top it all off, his situation with Tsukishima was strangely tense. They spoke as before, they greeted each other as before, but they didn't feel the same as before.
They kissed, but one of them didn’t know they kissed.
He thought of that while watching the ball hitting the floor, giving their rivals a point.
Tsukishima was acting strangely. He seemed pensive, even distraught. He was dying to know if it was because of what had happened the day before, but he couldn't bring himself to ask him directly. He wanted to know if Tsukishima had liked him or hated him. He wanted to know if it had just been a spur-of-the-moment impulse, or if he, too, had felt that connection between them. He wanted to believe they had that bond even with the mask on, that it wasn't his imagination, that it wasn't simply because he already knew Tsukishima. It wasn’t on the cards to use his hero identity like that. He liked it; he felt somehow free. But then he thought of what if Tsukki found out it was him. Then the mask turned into a jail. He wanted to find a way to protect him and reveal to him his identity, but after the kiss, after the photos…
He simply didn’t think.
The final whistle blew, and the team on the bench celebrated their victory, another step towards the next stage of the tournament. Now the toughest teams were coming. He had a bad, horrible feeling lingering inside his chest, a bad feeling, a bad omen. Something was coming, and he could not point out to what.
Now that he thought about it, he should’ve known. He should’ve seen it coming, because the universe wasn’t satisfide to see his hero life crumbling, he had to be the first one to witness how he lost control of everything.
“It was fun today, don’t you think?” He had said to Tsukishima when they were heading back home. In the blink of an eye, the day had ended, and he saw himself walking through the street under the night sky.
“Mhm.” Tsukishima responded dryly, his brow furrowed, his eyes watching forward intently.
“Is everything alright?” He should’ve known better. Yamaguchi should’ve seen the last pieces of his life crumble.
“No, it’s not, Yamaguchi.” Tsukishima stopped in the middle of the street.
“What are you talking about?” Why? Did the kiss cause this? What sparked in Tsukki’s mind for him to do this now?
“I know I said I’ll wait till the exams are over, after the tournament, I know. But I can’t hold it any longer. I’m not a fool, so don’t treat me like one.” He said, quoting himself from a few weeks ago.
“I don’t believe you are one, Tsukki.”
“The you are telling me everything. Now.”
“You really want to do this now? You said we’ll wait, it’s really, really not the time.” And from all the moments they had, this was probably the worse one to have this confrontation. The confrontation has been approaching for a long time. Every comment, every build-up finally came, and it was the worst time.
“I don’t give a damn, Yamaguchi. I need the truth.”
“I’m not telling you anything, not right now.”
“Since when can you be so easily contrary?” She was not enjoying this conversation at all. Her heart ached. It was beginning to burn, as if it were fracturing like bones. The premonition was becoming a reality.
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“I do. And if you can’t tell me anything, at least I want a good reason!”
There were two truths Yamaguchi had ever hidden from Tsukki.
One: His love.
Two: His superpowers.
And right now, both of them were so tied to each other that he could not tell one without the other. He didn’t measure how many lines he crossed in between his secrets for them to exist as if they were one. So he had a good reason not to tell him. Only that his reason was, also, something he could not say.
He was fucked.
“I can’t tell you everything! Don’t you get it?!” He shouted, agitated. Everything that had been happening, everything he'd been feeling—those repetitive thoughts, those endless doubts—were starting to get stuck in his throat. If Tsukishima kept at it, it would all come out. And all he wanted was to protect him. Especially now, after he'd been directly threatened.
“That doesn’t make any sense! You used to tell me everything, and now your only excuse is freaking biology?! Are you serious?!”
“If I haven’t told you, there’s a reason!”
“Then why are you calling me a friend if you are not telling me anything?” Tsukishima looked at him, his eyes hurting. “I bet you’ve told Yachi whatever this is that’s happening with you.” He said resentfully, the pain in his heart draining through his voice. And Yamaguchi's heart broke. It broke from the lies, from the truth, and because Tsukki was right. Yachi knew.
“Yachi is my friend, it's different!”
“I was your friend! How can it be different?”
“Because I lo-” He shut his mouth. He could not say that. He could not finish that phrase.
“I what, Yamaguchi!? Huh?! Answer me, Yamaguchi?!” Tsukishima was desperate for answers. His mind raced through the entire night on why he kissed the hero, feeling like he was kissing Yamaguchi. Why did he feel familiarity the two times he met the hero, and strangeness all the time he was with Yamaguchi? The doubts, the possibilities, the theories, they were all driving him insane.
“Why do you have to keep insisting if I already said no?!” And Yamaguchi made it so hard. So, so, so hard. That was new for both of them. They had fought before, yes. But Yamaguchi had never responded like that.
“Because I don’t get it!”
“Exactly!” Yamaguchi exclaimed, tired, hurt. “You don’t get it, you should not get it, and you will not get it!”
“Are you treating me like an idiot?!”
“No! You see?! I’m not saying you are an idiot! I’m saying that what I’m going through can not be understood by you, or anyone! No one in the fucking world will understand me, and you, for once in my life, are not the exception! So stop insisting for good! Stop it!” Maybe this was good. Maybe this was what was going to happen, maybe it was written from the moment that the spider bit him. And maybe it was what needed to be done. If Tsukki was mad at him, if Tsukki took his distance, maybe the bad guys wouldn’t hurt him. So he’ll use this opportunity. It was his chance to protect Tsukki.
“What makes you so goddamn important that nobody understands you? What makes you different, huh?! What is so special about you?!” And it was killing him. Because now it didn’t feel like he was talking about powers, but that it was talking about him. The very nature of him. And he had a point. Besides the powers, what made him so special? How could the same person who had lifted him to heaven a day before now bring him crashing down to earth with a harsh dose of reality? How could everything have changed so quickly? Tsukishima didn't know he was Spiderman, but that didn't stop Yamaguchi and Spiderman from feeling the same way. And they were hurting. Hurting so bad.
“Yeah, what makes me so special, right?” This was his chance. This was the moment to bury it. “What makes me so different? You are right, Kei.” He said, his breaking voice unfiltered, his teary eyes unhidable. “You are right. You should not be friends with someone you don’t see anything special or different in. Someone so pathetic that they can’t even tell the truth about anything.” And it killed him. Because once again, this was not only about heroes and villains. This was more than the pure protection he tried to give Tsukki; it was bigger than the threat. This was them. This was his biggest fear, his biggest insecurity, coming out of the lips that so beautifully kissed him last night. The chance was perfect; he didn’t have to make something up, he didn’t have to pretend a fight, he just had to let the cruelest truth come out on its own. “I thank you for everything all these years, Tsukki. You are truly amazing.” He didn’t want to do this. Tsukishima was speechless, trying to process what he had done and what was happening. He hated where this was going. “I will admire you, encourage you, look at you, but I’ll do it from the sidelines.” He wanted to cry. They wanted to cry. “You are right. You should be friends with someone who tells you everything, and doesn’t bother with questions, or stupid comments, or annoying jokes. With someone more than a player off the bench, more than a regular student. With someone more than me.” It was torturing every inch of his soul, every single heartbeat pained him endlessly on his ribs and expanding through his flesh and bones. “I’ll see you around, Tsukishima. Live well, be happy.” Yamaguchi said goodbye.
He waved, leaving Tsukishima behind, walking alone the rest of the way home: the path that separates their lives. He couldn’t help but cry, feeling weaker every step he took. He felt drops begin to fall on his hair and clothes. The sky was sharing his sadness.
Yamaguchi didn't want to say goodbye, but if that's how he would protect him, then he would do it.
Even if it destroyed every inch of his jagged heart.