#very liberal interpretation of 'scared' but you know what i regret nothing

[pridewon]

@pontevoix​​​ said:  beep ft tsukishima! cha u know i'm always ready to slide in your dms (texts prompts) 3. a scared text && 21. a long text.

The Sendai Frogs take home yet another victory. Tadashi reads the tweet with a smile sported on his face, a twinge of pride in his chest as the bus carries him from his workplace back to his apartment complex. What a game it had been; two days prior, a battle hard fought and hard won, familiar old faces flying and soaring across the court as he looked on from the bleachers; none, obviously, better or more impressive than his childhood friend. 

Tadashi puts his phone down on his lap and lets his head roll against the window. It’s nice, having those games to look forward to. It’s even better, getting to see Tsukki flourish and succeed where he had, for so long, tried to not even consider the possibility that he could. It’s great news, he thinks; it’s everything he had ever wished for for the person he doesn’t shy away (too much) from saying is the most important in his life (always has been, to various degrees, in different capacities) (including some he will keep to himself, for both their sakes). 

But sometimes... just sometimes. It worries him. Just a little bit. Because he knows it’s stupid, and selfish, and there is little that Tadashi hates more than catching himself indulging in those moments of weakness. 

Ding! His phone summons his attention once again, and Tadashi blinks as he deciphers the writing on the screen - oh, speak of the devil... A quick glance at his watch confirms that practice must be over; meaning Tsukki now resumes they irregular, yet constant exchanges (sometimes real conversations, more often a lost thought that doesn’t call for a response - they’ve always been better with voice and the chance to scrutinise each other). 

Uh-oh. He must have slipped. Something in another text must have tipped him off to Tsukki, because Tsukki uncharacteristically (and very characteristically) leaves him with a simple and dry ‘what’s wrong?’. Crap. Tadashi stares at is phone, hesitates a minute longer; and slowly, ater three redone attempts, finally sends out:

[Tsukki  🌙 - 19:36] Well, before I say anything, let me preface by saying: it’s lame. Like, really lame.

(He can hear the eye roll from here). Tadashi’s fingers hover over the keyboard, lungs dipping to take a much-needed breath - constricted, uncomfortable. Absent-mindedly, he rubs a hand over his chest and starts typing.

[Tsukki  🌙 - 19:38] I’ve just been thinking a lot recently. About what I’m doing with my life, my job, where I’m going to be in the next five, ten years, this kind of stuff. Seeing everyone be so successful, doing what they love, it’s awesome. I just don’t feel like I’m at the same level. And you’re going to hate me saying this (^_^) but watching you play the other day, made me even more conscious of it. It’s stupid, I know! But sometimes, I can’t help but feel like the first year left on the bench again. While you’re going places where I can’t catch up or go with you. 

Tadashi reads his text once, twice; and decides to press send before the thumping in his chest makes him change his mind, delete the whole thing, and replace it with a video of a cat (yes, he has been foudn guilty of doing it before) (needless to say, new levels of lameness). But he didn’t delete the whole thing, and he didn’t send a cat video instead. Tadashi holds back a sigh, swallows it back into his throat for it to curl up and die there, and clings to his phone without looking at it; resisting the urge to check if Tsukki has read the message, of imagining the face he might be doing. 

They have always moved at different paces. When one would slow down, the other would march forward and blaze a trail for the other to eventually follow behind. They always meet again, eventually; go through different routes, only to re-join in the same places. Oddly enough (or not) it is an assurance Tadashi only believes to be true when Tsukki is the one stumbling in the dark (hasn’t he always waited for him; turned around to see where he stopped, grabbed at his shirt to pull him up?). 

Now he is the one fumbling around again, a confused, worried little thing without a place to call his own; wondering if this time, he’ll reach for the back of Tsukki’s shirt, and his fingers will close on nothing. It’s silly. It’s lame. It’s the question he’s asking him without asking it. 

If you run up ahead, please don’t leave me behind?