Ship/Character: Kageyama Tobio/Kunimi Akira Fandom: Haikyuu!! Major Tags: none Other Tags: makes vague handwavey gestures for murakami esque nonsense, more handwavey gestures bc this is such a vague fill Word Count: 532 Remix Permission: go ahead if u can make something of this dsjhgkfsd
crawls out of my gremlin hole bc rarepair
im sorry this fill is so /GESTURES VAGUELY
***
Go back to where they started, a gym and the squeak of shoes, the sound of chatter as the seniors started their warm ups. He introduces himself, painfully awkward and earnest in his desire to become part of the team.
It could be a dream, for all the haziness that Kunimi remembers it with. But he remembers how it feels to spike the ball Kageyama had set for him that day, precisely where it needed to be at the right time.
Go back to the last time Kunimi saw him. The coffee is dripping, hot water collecting flavour as it seeps through the filter paper. The key on the counter, the sense of detachment as he watched Kageyama close the door behind him.
Kunimi remembers this with startling clarity, the faint strains of jazz seeping through the walls, the coolness of the floor against his feet. The balcony door had been open, awaiting a breeze to help ease the summer humidity. How he’d held his coffee cup for hours afterwards, long after the neighbour had turned off his stereo and gone to bed. The coffee stopped dripping, curdling in the pot where it stood untouched for a week afterward.
Kunimi stopped drinking coffee after that. It didn’t quite taste the same anymore, strangely sour instead of bitter even with the addition of cream and sugar.
Come to the present, where he’s moved continents away. There’s a promising career for program developers anywhere in the world. Code comes in many languages, but it is a language Kunimi learned to speak with a fluency he’s never quite grasped with English. He still trips over words, even after all these years away from Japan.
Sometimes he misses coffee, bitterness seeping into him that turns into energy. He needs it now, after spending most of the night trying to debug the piece of code he was writing and answering the door to find Kageyama there.
Kageyama. A question, a confirmation. Kageyama should not be here, not in this space Kunimi has built for himself, separate from the past. But he is, and while Kunimi has no compunctions about telling people to get lost, he opens the door wide enough for Kageyama to come in.
They sit at his coffee table, the tea his mother had sent him for New Year’s steeping in the teapot. There is no unmaking the past, it seems. Kageyama is no genius anymore, a prodigy child set to blaze a trail through the world. He is in Kunimi’s living room, unearthing all these things Kunimi preferred to forget.
I’m sorry, he says. Kunimi think he’s too tired for this, uncovering all the scars they left on each other. I’m sorry too, Kunimi says. It could be a reconciliation, but Kunimi thinks of this as an offering to appease all the ghosts of their past, still crying out in loneliness despite their burial in the backyard of Kunimi’s childhood home.
Trace it, trace the link of past, present, and future. Connecting, like the commute Kunimi used to make when they both still lived in Sendai. In this, find a path to the uncertain future where all their ghosts could be laid to rest.
FILL: Team Knife Emoji, T
Fandom: Haikyuu!!
Major Tags: none
Other Tags: makes vague handwavey gestures for murakami esque nonsense, more handwavey gestures bc this is such a vague fill
Word Count: 532
Remix Permission: go ahead if u can make something of this dsjhgkfsd
crawls out of my gremlin hole bc rarepair
im sorry this fill is so /GESTURES VAGUELY
***
Go back to where they started, a gym and the squeak of shoes, the sound of chatter as the seniors started their warm ups. He introduces himself, painfully awkward and earnest in his desire to become part of the team.
It could be a dream, for all the haziness that Kunimi remembers it with. But he remembers how it feels to spike the ball Kageyama had set for him that day, precisely where it needed to be at the right time.
Go back to the last time Kunimi saw him. The coffee is dripping, hot water collecting flavour as it seeps through the filter paper. The key on the counter, the sense of detachment as he watched Kageyama close the door behind him.
Kunimi remembers this with startling clarity, the faint strains of jazz seeping through the walls, the coolness of the floor against his feet. The balcony door had been open, awaiting a breeze to help ease the summer humidity. How he’d held his coffee cup for hours afterwards, long after the neighbour had turned off his stereo and gone to bed. The coffee stopped dripping, curdling in the pot where it stood untouched for a week afterward.
Kunimi stopped drinking coffee after that. It didn’t quite taste the same anymore, strangely sour instead of bitter even with the addition of cream and sugar.
Come to the present, where he’s moved continents away. There’s a promising career for program developers anywhere in the world. Code comes in many languages, but it is a language Kunimi learned to speak with a fluency he’s never quite grasped with English. He still trips over words, even after all these years away from Japan.
Sometimes he misses coffee, bitterness seeping into him that turns into energy. He needs it now, after spending most of the night trying to debug the piece of code he was writing and answering the door to find Kageyama there.
Kageyama. A question, a confirmation. Kageyama should not be here, not in this space Kunimi has built for himself, separate from the past. But he is, and while Kunimi has no compunctions about telling people to get lost, he opens the door wide enough for Kageyama to come in.
They sit at his coffee table, the tea his mother had sent him for New Year’s steeping in the teapot. There is no unmaking the past, it seems. Kageyama is no genius anymore, a prodigy child set to blaze a trail through the world. He is in Kunimi’s living room, unearthing all these things Kunimi preferred to forget.
I’m sorry, he says. Kunimi think he’s too tired for this, uncovering all the scars they left on each other. I’m sorry too, Kunimi says. It could be a reconciliation, but Kunimi thinks of this as an offering to appease all the ghosts of their past, still crying out in loneliness despite their burial in the backyard of Kunimi’s childhood home.
Trace it, trace the link of past, present, and future. Connecting, like the commute Kunimi used to make when they both still lived in Sendai. In this, find a path to the uncertain future where all their ghosts could be laid to rest.