Chapter Text
The last thing Kei expects the moment he reaches Tokyo is for the red string around his ring finger to appear.
Or, well. Reappear, technically.
He stares at it hard, but doesn’t bother to say a word. His brother is talking loudly over the radio, laughing at some joke he makes for himself, and Kei makes a noise of acknowledgement. The car keeps moving, the view passing them without a pause, and Kei looks out the window to see more and more skyscrapers. Finally, Tokyo.
Kei sighs quietly.
“Okay?” Akiteru asks.
Kei flexes his fingers, and turns up the volume of the radio. “Yeah,” he says, and closes his eyes, turning his back slightly towards his brother. After three years, the tug on his finger is annoying, but he’s a champion in ignoring annoying things. Kei falls into a nap not three minutes later.
“How’s the big city treating you?”
Kei tries not to snort because honestly, taking a phone call while the leader of his orientation group is explaining things about their university at the front is pretty rude already, and Kei is raised to have good manners. He coughs instead, ignoring a weird look the girl beside him is giving him. “I’ve been here for two days, counting the whole day I’ve used to sleep,” he replies quietly to the microphone on his earphone’s cable. “It’s treating me alright.”
Yamaguchi laughs. There’s the squeaking sound of shoes against floor from his side. He’s probably back at the court again. He did say it’s hard to say goodbye to the team he’s been a captain of, so Kei doesn’t comment on that. “Man, you jump on that car fast. It’s not even a week after graduation! Slow down a little, Tsukki. Next thing I know you’re ignoring my calls because you’re too good for a country bumpkin like me.”
“Your imagination is fascinating, as usual,” Kei mutters dryly. “I have orientation, you know this.”
“Yeah, but you didn’t have to bring half of the house there already! University don’t even start for weeks.” Yamaguchi quiets down a little. There’s a loud gust of wind mixed with the static of the phone call. He’s outside, then. “You could’ve come to the volleyball team graduation party or something. You know. As an honorary ex-member.”
This time, Kei does snort. The group leader turns towards him with a raised eyebrow, but thankfully doesn’t stop talking to single him out. She simply stares at him for a bit before turning towards another freshman who raises her hand to ask something. Kei slouches down a little, trying to not stick out too much, although with his height it’s damn near impossible. Thanks, genes. “I haven’t been a member for more than two years. No one wants me to be there.”
Yamaguchi makes a protesting sound. “I do! And Hitoka does too, you know that.”
“Thanks,” he says flatly, moving along as the orientation group starts moving again. “But you know even as the captain and the manager you two can’t make them want to hang out with the person who abandoned the team in the time of need. Don’t worry, I still remember their words, you don’t have to sugarcoat it.” Kei lets Yamaguchi’s weak objection dies as he flips through the pamphlet in his hands. “And we both know they’re right. So let’s cut the bullshit and let them be bitter towards me, and let me leave them in peace.”
Yamaguchi sighs, and Kei knows it’s a sign of him giving up on the topic. The billions of times he’s brought it up makes him familiar enough with it to let him breathe it out. Honestly, Kei doesn’t know why Yamaguchi (and sometimes Hitoka, if her boyfriend gives her enough puppy-eyed expression) keeps bringing it up. After the tenth time it’s not even a bother anymore to Kei, just a small buzzing he can easily ignore. For his best friend it’s probably just a habit at this point, and no longer about persuading Kei to make amend with the team he quitted in his first year. Yamaguchi doesn’t even talk about how Kei should still play volleyball anymore, just for him to at least talk with the people Yamaguchi is friends with. To Kei, it’s an even more ridiculous discussion, but he lets him talk it out.
Just a buzzing. It’s the least Kei can do for the one person who never walks out of his life, really.
“And this is where the sport teams practice!” Their group leader’s chirpy voice pulls him away from the conversation, and Kei pulls out one of the buds in his ears to, finally , listen to her. “As you can see, we have two gymnasiums, and right now their spaces are a little small because they’re sharing it to showcase their clubs, but the actual practice space for each club is much larger because there’s a schedule and everything. There’s only half of them here, and the other half will have their showcase tomorrow, but all the clubs’ pamphlet are right at the entrance there. You have fifteen minutes to look around for a bit, and then we’re continuing to the AV Hall where there are more clubs!”
The people around him disperse in small groups, talking among themselves, and the group leader walks towards some people who wear the same tees as hers, purple with a huge ‘COMMITTEE’ in orange font on the back, their university symbol right below it. Kei sighs, and starts to walk around.
Unfortunately his limbs are way too long for sudden movement in a crowded area, so he ends up bumping against a table where there is, for some reason, a tall house of cards. Which collapses the moment his hand makes a contact with the table.
He tries to steady the table, but it’s too late, and the cards fly everywhere. Someone shrieks, silencing the busy gymnasium for a few seconds, and everyone in their surrounding turns towards them. “Fuck. I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to. Sorry,” he mumbles, crouching to get the cards that have fallen on the floor. Some people above him curse, and Kei feels his ears burn. God damn it.
“Tsukki, what did you do?” Yamaguchi asks in his ear, equal part amused and worried.
“Nothing,” Kei grits, before he yanks at the earphone and puts it into his pocket. He just wants to get all the cards and flee to the orientation group meeting point. He’s not even interested in sport. At least not anymore. He huffs, bending down further to reach a stupid heart ace card.
A hand appears first, pulling the card towards him. Kei looks up, gratitude at the tip of his tongue, but it immediately gets swallowed.
“I got it,” the man in front of him says, a few cards already in his hand. He has a small smirk on his face, looking thoroughly entertained by the situation. “Don’t worry about it, just look very remorseful and follow my lead.”
Kei opens his mouth, not really sure what to say but feeling like he needs to reply anyway, but the man pulls the cards in his hand and heaves him up by the elbow. He’s not surprised that he’s taller than the man, but he pauses at the fact that there’s barely any difference between their height. Mostly thanks to the other’s hair that stands up to various direction, looking like he just rolls out of bed minutes before he gets there. The man puts the cards together and winks at him. Ignoring Kei’s frown, he turns towards the people standing around them, looking very annoyed. Oh, Kei winces, right.
The man spreads his arms, grinning. “Ito, my dude. My talented dude. Nice hair, as usual.”
Kei doesn’t know what it is about his tone, but it doesn’t sound like a compliment. At all. Clearly, the other person agrees, because he glares harder. “You’re the last person I want to hear it from, Kuroo.”
The man, Kuroo, laughs. “Yeah, well. This is all natural, man. None of those magic gel you use. Good magic gel, of course.”
“Shut up,” the person called Ito barks, “give me the cards. And you,” he turns towards Kei. Kei knows that despite his slight embarrassment for gaining unwanted attention, his face is void of any emotion—least of all remorse as the Kuroo person told him to put on. It probably annoys Ito even more, because he starts to move towards him. “You fucking—“
“Come on, man,” Kuroo interrupts, putting himself between Kei and Ito. “He’s a freshman, he doesn’t know any better. It’s not like he did it on purpose. Right?” Kuroo turns towards him with raised eyebrow, and Kei resists the urge to roll his eyes. He nods slightly instead, and the man snorts a little. “See, he’s cool. No need for violence.”
Ito makes a face. “I wasn’t going to be violent, I just want him to have some fucking respect.”
Kei can see that the man in front of him is about to speak again, but he interrupts him with a soft, “I’m really sorry.” The two men turn towards him, one with a frown and the other with raised eyebrows. “I didn’t mean to knock it down. I wasn’t really paying attention, and it’s really crowded.” As you should know, because it’s a goddamn orientation, so why in the world would you have a stupid house of cards in the first place, Kei doesn’t say, because he’s not stupid. Instead, he continues, trying to bend down slightly so he’s not looking down at the people in front of him. “It was a complete accident.”
The crowd around them is already slightly dispersed, and the gymnasium is filled with noises again. The man with messy hair, Kuroo, has a grin growing on his face, looking like a satisfied cat. He turns around and folds his arms in front of his chest. “And respect, you get. Surely the captain of the basketball team has enough heart to forgive a measly freshman who’s very regretful about his action?”
Kei wants to roll his eyes at the bullshit, but he keeps his face straight. Instead, he bows down again towards Ito and the people beside him. They look at each other before their gaze falls on Ito, who narrows his eyes at Kuroo, and then at him, before back to Kuroo again. “Whatever,” Ito rolls his eyes, “go back to orientation. And you can go back to your stupid club,” he scoffs at Kuroo, whose face doesn’t even twitch.
“Oh, I will, Your Highness,” he replies with a huge smile, tone clearly mocking, and turns away before the other person can reply. His eyes find Kei immediately, and his expression turns into one of amusement again. “And you,” he says.
Kei waits. He doesn’t continue, simply smirking as he stares at Kei. He schools his expression into one of disinterest. There’s something about him that annoys Kei, and it makes him feel less inclined to be polite. The man technically helps him, sure, but Kei feels more like part of a game than a clueless freshman being generously helped. So he straightens his posture, making use of his height advantage, and says “Thank you, Kuroo-Senpai,” in a tone that clearly doesn’t convey the words.
Kuroo’s eyes widen a little, clearly taken aback, but then he guffaws an ugly laugh, one loud enough to startle Kei into taking a step back. Kei doesn’t even have a chance to follow his fight or flee instinct to run away before an arm is suddenly around his shoulders, pulling him forward. He’s forced to bend down slightly, and he’s annoyed at himself for noticing how toned the body against his side is. “You’re very welcome,” Kuroo sings. “What’s your name?”
Manners, Tsukishima Kei. “Tsukishima,” he replies, trying to pull away. “Uh, I need to get back to my orientation group.”
“Of course,” Kuroo says without loosening up his grip. Why is this man so fucking strong, and why is his limbs basically a goddamn stick? “But before that, you should put down your name and number for us to contact you.”
That, at least, gives Kei enough strength to stop walking. “What?”
At his obviously incredulous tone, Kuroo blinks. His grip loosens. “Oh, not because I’m hitting on you. Or any of us. Well, not now, at least. That’d be inappropriate.”
“What?”
Kuroo steps back, raising his hands in front of him in a surrender gesture. “For our club, Tsukishima,” he says, tone patient as if he’s talking to a toddler about a simple concept. At Kei’s silence, he continues, “I must say, it’s really our luck that one of the tallest freshmen we’ve seen today is on the bad side of the basketball team. So I should probably thank you for that.”
Kei resists massaging his temple. What the fuck is happening. “I wasn’t interested in basketball.”
“Yeah?” Kuroo says, a smirk back on his face. “Interested in sport at all?”
Kei is about to say no just so he can get away from this person, but he pauses as he finally gets a clear look at the person who just helped him out. His heart falls to his stomach.
The thing about the red string around his finger is, when “soulmates” connected by it are at close proximity (physical or otherwise), it will shine and burn and pull hard, making itself impossible to miss. It appears and disappears and reappears, adjusting itself to the people on which it’s tied to and the person they’re supposed to fall in love with. Or something. It’s a concept Kei has always found silly, its’ magic rapidly disappearing as he grows up from the wide-eyed four year old he was when he first found out about his ability. To think that one day, there will be some stupid string trying to get his attention just so he can find who it’s connected to, forcing him to interact with them. It’s not something Kei likes to think about.
The gymnasium is bustling with people, loud and crowded and stuffy as hell, but Kei isn’t really sure how he’s only noticing it now. The string tightens, the red emanating from it burning his eyes, and Kei’s eyes follow it towards where the other end is tied neatly around Kuroo’s own ring finger. Lead lodges itself inside his throat.
Somehow, it’s not even the worst part. Suddenly everything the person in front of him has been saying claws at his mind, echoing loud and clear at the forefront. They need tall people for their sport. Kuroo has kneepads on, and a few of his fingers have bandages over them. It’s an injury familiar to him. He knows he’s probably jumping to conclusion, but despite having not touched a volleyball for years, Kei thinks he can pick out a player easily enough.
It feels like the universe is mocking him, and he hasn’t laughed along for years.
In the end he decides to follow the lead of the bile rising up his throat and replies, “Anything but volleyball.”
There’s a slight shock on his face, but Kuroo’s expression turn into indifference a split second later, leaving a slight smile on his face. They stare at each other for a bit, people walking around them noisily. Kei, for reasons unknown even to himself, refuses to break eye contact first. This is stupid, he thinks. He stays rooted there anyway.
In the end, Kuroo chuckles and shrugs. “Oh well, I tried,” he says. “I guess our luck ends here.”
Kei releases the breath he doesn’t know he’s holding. He gulps, and then hears some voices calling out at other orientation groups. “I need to go,” he says. There’s a slight shake on his finger. He clenches them into a fist. He bows. “Thank you again, Senpai.”
“Sure,” Kuroo replies easily.
Kei straightens up and, without making another eye contact, turns around and walks away. He finds his earphone in his pocket and traces the cable towards his phone, hand gripping it too tightly. He needs to calm the fuck down.
He barely catches it, but he’s only taken a few steps when he hears behind him, “Look for Kuroo Tetsurou from the volleyball club if you change your mind!”
Kei knows some people turn towards him. He grits his teeth and doesn’t turn back.
You okay?, he reads Yamaguchi’s text hours later, after the remaining of his day continues without any more hiccup.
Kei presses his hands hard against his eyes. It’s just a dumb sport. He types, Yea, but decides to close it and delete the draft. He turns towards the wall beside his bed and breathes in the dark, ignoring the grumble in his stomach as the room turns darker when the sun sets completely. He pulls out his headphone and drowns himself in English words and heavy bass. He barely notices the pain in his gut and the tug on his finger.
Inuoka Sou is, to put it simply, very loud.
Thankfully he’s also very nice, because he takes one look at Kei’s wince at his voice and simply grins sheepishly. “Whoops, sorry. Was I too loud? Do you need any migraine medicine? I’m sure my mom packs some for me.”
“Uh, no. Thanks.” Kei sits up slowly, hand reaching towards the glasses he put on the table. He blinks several times, eyes adjusting to the light. He looks around and sees the side of the room opposite his own is already filled with open suitcases, some posters sticking on the previously bare wall. The closet on Inuoka’s side is half-filled, with what Kei assumes is half of his clothes folded on the floor. “How long have you been here?”
“Three, four hours? I got here before the sun sets. I try not to turn on the light so I won’t bother you, but then it gets too dark, and I thought you’d need dinner anyway, so I said to myself, screw it, I’m not going to let my roommate starve! My seniors told me the dinner we can buy at the dorm is kind of shit, but we can probably buy something from some convenience store around. Empty stomach will never be healthy, and my mom said I should treat others like I want to treat myself, and I would definitely want my roommate to wake me up if it’s dinner time, despite the taste of the food! So—“
Inuoka Sou is also extremely chatty, apparently. Kei says goodbye to the silence he’s grown accustomed to for the past two weeks.
His expression must have shown something, because Inuoka halts his chatter and bends down to look at his face with a worried frown. “Are you okay? You look gassy.”
Kei can’t help but chuckle a little at that. “I’m fine. Inuoka, was it?” He pushes himself off of bed, nodding a little. “I’m Tsukishima Kei.”
“Nice to meet you, Tsukishima! Wow, you’re really tall.” Inuoka pats his shoulder a few times, his grin wide. “And way too skinny! We’re eating dinner. Do you have anyone to have dinner with?”
There’s an expectant pause. Kei blinks, not expecting the other to wait for an answer, considering he’s been streaming through the conversation without even taking a breathe. Kei shakes his head, and Inuoka’s expression shifts in an alarming speed, turning a bit gloomy before it brightens up immediately. “Well, one of my best friends go here, so we can eat with him. Some seniors I’m close with are also students in this uni, so you can hang out with us! I don’t think they’ll have dinner with us, though, I’m sure they’re busy with their own friends—but if they do, I’m sure they won’t mind! They’re really nice!”
Having dinner with strangers is the last thing Kei wants, but at 18 Kei is over being unnecessarily antagonistic towards people he clearly would have to interact a lot with, so he simply nods. Beside, he’s not deluded enough to think he won’t need any connection in university. High school in a small town is one thing, and a university in the capital of the country is another. “Let me wash my face first,” he tells his roommate.
Inuoka beams at the answer, and Kei thinks there’s some kind of karma happening here because Inuoka is scarily similar to someone he never thought he’d interact with again. He shakes his head at his own thought.
Not really expecting anything, Kei feels like he shouldn’t be surprised that one of Inuoka’s “best friend” turns out to be someone just energetic as he is. The person, clearly of foreign descent, waves excitedly at the two of them the moment they reach the convenience store Inuoka and his friend plan to meet at. Kei is surprised to see that he’s significantly taller than him. “Sou!”
“Lev!” Inuoka waves back, running towards his friend before he throws himself at him with a bright laughter, clearly unconcerned about personal space. “Sorry I’m late, I was unpacking.”
Lev, as it appears to be, frowns. “Oh, I haven’t touched my luggage at all. I spent the day at the gym with Yaku-san and the others.”
“Well, it’s fine, we have another day before uni starts,” Inuoka says with a grin. The moment Kei actually reaches them (by walking, like normal people), he turns and puts a hand on his shoulder like he’s presenting a surprise. “Look who I brought!”
Kei tries not laugh at Lev’s confused expression. “I’m Tsukishima.”
Lev nods at him, his expression clearing up slowly. “Ah, of course! Inuoka’s roommate?”
“That’s me.”
“Man, I didn’t go back to my room before I go here so I haven’t met my roommate at all. The room’s empty when I left it,” Lev complains, and Kei isn’t sure if he’s talking to him or to Inuoka, because he’s facing him but Kei doesn’t think it’s a conversation to have with someone he just met ten seconds ago, so he doesn’t offer any answer. “I wish I’m bringing a new friend too!”
Inuoka laughs. “You can bring someone next time, Lev. We should eat now, I’m sure you’re starving as well.” It’s clear to Kei now that he probably spends most of his life laughing or smiling. Kei almost has a headache, but for now it’s covered by the wave of gratefulness that Inuoka seems to be at least good with any kind of people, including someone less excitable than he is like Kei, because he seems to soften his voice as he turns towards Kei when Lev skips towards the frozen food aisle in the store. He looks almost apologetic. “Sorry we’re so excited to see each other. You’d think we haven’t met for years instead of a few days ago.”
“You’re good,” Kei shrugs, and it’s true. Kei doesn’t like... most people, even actively avoids them, but it’s not like he’s forced to be there. And it’s hard to not appreciate Inuoka as a roommate, seeing how much he means well. “Your friend is also good. Thanks for bringing me.”
He grins.
Like usual, the topic comes up fifteen minutes in, right after Kei finds out that they both plan to join the volleyball club. Which, go figure. Kei doesn’t even try to muster up a surprised expression, simply mumbles some acknowledgement and talks about how he’s only interested in graduating with a decent GPA. Neither of them look like they get it—and Kei is used to people who give their all to the damn sport, so it really isn’t a surprise there—but Inuoka has the decency to change the subject the moment Lev opens his mouth, possibly to comment on Kei’s life decision in university.
Speaking of the subject change, it isn’t one Kei is fond of, either.
“My cousin got married to her soulmate last week,” Inuoka says, mouth half-filled with some sweet potato crackers they bought along with the frozen dinner. Kei tenses, but keeps sipping on his hot tea. “She’s half-Japanese like you, Lev. It’s pretty sweet. Apparently they met online, and their strings do some freaky stuffs that make her soulmate feel compelled to go back to Japan, and they know the moment they met. It sounds weird when she explains it, but awesome at the same time.”
Kei snorts, but thankfully it’s drown out by Lev’s excited question. “The strings can do that?!”
“Apparently!” Inuoka replies, just as energetic. “I’ve never heard of something like that, but I’m not surprised. That thing is magical.”
“It’s not, really,” Kei says, mouth moving before he even realizes it. He winces when the table stops, keeping his head down as he feels the stare he can feel burning at his direction.
Lev, as he finds out in the short time they’ve had dinner, is rather shameless, so of course he’s the one who prods with a curious, “What do you mean?”
Kei almost can’t believe that Lev is his age, but then again not everyone is jagged from sarcastic defense mechanism and self-hatred. He sighs. “I mean, part of it is unexplored, but there are many advance science that can debunk some of the… well… mythical stuffs.”
Honestly, this isn’t a conversation Kei expects to have with his roommate and his roommate’s friend on the first night they meet. First hour, even. He’s envisioned it a million times, sure—to talk about it with people who aren’t his brother or his best friend, who don’t even bother to argue with him anymore. One of the downsides of living in the suburb is how glorified his condition seems to be, with the strong superstition and the rarity of it around them, and Kei is sick of being it being talked about like an abstract gift by people who see it as some kind of superpower. In the big city, one tens of times bigger than where he comes from, he’s sure there’s more depth to the discussion that’s bound to happen.
And anyway, it’s barely a superpower. Some people call it a kind of synesthesia, where some people’s sense of sight perceive another and showing them the red string in place of something, and only 3% of the world population has it. At least that’s the result of a recent research Kei stumbles upon. No one can really explain the “fate” factor, though. It’s genetic, years of science can at least say, and apparently people connected through the strings apparently have higher chance of having a lasting relationship. That’s where the occult enthusiasts jump on with the word “fate”, and somehow it catches on, despite many skeptics’ cynicism.
One day the red string appears, connecting people with their soulmates, and only a select few can see it. It’s way too common to be dismissed as a myth, but too rare to be seen as ordinary, which is why a lot of people still like to bring it up in conversation. Kei has seen articles on “The Red String Phenomena” from way back.
Right now, Kei regrets opening his mouth at all. Inuoka blinks at him, and Lev is openly gaping. Just what he needs in his attempt to be civil with his roommate.
“You don’t believe in it?” Inuoka asks. His tone is casual enough, but there’s an underlying disbelief in it.
He doesn’t really see any way around it, so he simply shrugs. “I know it exists,” he clarifies when Lev, for some reason, makes a disgruntled noise. “But I don’t see it as a big of a deal. Definitely not magic. It’s just… something that is.”
Lev makes another noise, this time high-pitched. Inuoka elbows his side hard. “Okay, that’s cool,” Inuoka says, now side-eyeing Lev, whose expression looks like a cross between pain and incredulity. “Don’t mind him, his whole family is big on this kind of stuffs thanks to his parents and his sister. Yes, Lev,” he pats Lev’s face when the other boy opens his mouth, clearly ready to protest. “I know how your parents met and got married. It’s very sweet. I can write essays copying your story word per word. Thank you for sharing.”
“Don’t be mean to me,” he frowns. It’s hard to believe that someone two meter tall is pouting, but maybe nothing is impossible in university.
Inuoka grins and pats his face again. “Let Tsukishima be. Not everyone is like Nekoma, you know this. Even we have Kenma-san.” Kei doesn’t really want to know, but Inuoka turns towards him and leans forward anyway. “Nekoma is our high school. Most of us in the volleyball club are huge on this ‘red string is fate’ thing since one of us actually has the condition and can see it, and it just kind of sticks. It’s no big deal, though.”
Lev makes an offended noise but he simply keeps pouting. Kei nods. “Okay,” he says, because seriously. Had he known this will still be an issue, he wouldn’t have said anything at all. Just his luck that he ends up with people that remind him way too much of his hometown, he guesses.
Before the silence can stretch into something too awkward, Inuoka’s phone pings, right at the same time as Lev’s phone vibrates on the table. He looks at it for a second and grins. “Speak of the devil,” he says, “some of our seniors from Nekoma are coming. I hope it’s fine with you?”
Kei tries not to groan. “I can leave,” he offers. He tries to look sincere without showing that he genuinely wants Inuoka to let him go back to their room. Him not being social isn’t a reason for him to be a dick to someone who has been nothing but courteous for the whole time they’ve known each other. Manners. “You can go and have your high school reunion. I don’t mind.”
“Nonsense! You should come with!” Inuoka exclaims, already typing on his phone before he smiles brightly at Kei. “They’re like, thirty seconds away from here. They’re really nice, I swear. We won’t make it awkward or anything!”
He’s about to make up another reason to leave, going as far as pocketing his phone and wallet and pushing his chair back, ready to let excuses slip out of his mouth, when someone from behind him says, “Yeah, Tsukishima. We’ll be civilized, we swear.”
Kei freezes. No. No, no, no.
“Kuroo-san!” Lev calls out cheerfully, and Kei’s ring finger burns. Great.