How We Began

“How did she find me?” Tsuki hissed.
“Info leaked by surveillance on mom,” Aki replied. “They reported to Grandmother.”
“Okay, but still… how?”
“One of mom’s old friends. Older lady in a quilting club. She’d heard one of the earlier stories we’d circulated about your death, and had called to ask because she’d seen you. Oh, Grandmother also found out about your bookshop, so I wouldn’t go back there.”
“Shit.”
“Yeah. Sorry.”
“So now I have to run again, huh?”
“Yeah. And soon. I may have lost them, but I don’t know how long it’ll be before they find me. Or you.”

Tsuki wrapped his arms around himself. This had been his way of life for more years than he cared to count, and he was so tired of it all. The bookshop was meant to be his last bastion, his last stop. He was done running. Done with everything. If Grandmother truly wanted him dead, then why fight? At least he wouldn't have to run anymore. Right?

But then, Kuroo (and his sweet auntie) came into his shop, into his life. Tall, dark, handsome as sin; kind, funny, chaotic. Absolutely the best in bed, no question. He'd calmly, and steadily, worked his way into Tsuki's heart. Now, he had a reason to stay alive, to stay in one place forever, but that also meant leaving Kuroo behind. He couldn't let him be sucked into the dumpster fire that was his life. Grandmother already had her grip firmly on Aki, and his mother. He wasn't about to let her near Kuroo.

"Aki?"
"Yeah?"
"How long do I have? I need a time frame."
"Two days. Three, if the goons on my tail haven't worked their way out of Wakkanai, yet."
“Wakkanai? Did you bury them under the snow?”
“Can’t say I didn’t try,” his brother replied sardonically. “And I did try.”
“That’s also assuming Grandmother didn’t send more goons in other directions.”
“Right.”
"Two days. Fuck."
"Sorry."
Tsuki snorted. “Sure you are.”
“Still believe I’m tucked up in Grandmother’s pocket, I see.”
“You haven’t given me reason to believe otherwise.”
“I didn’t have to tell you you were being hunted again.”
“We’re both weak where mom’s concerned.”
“True. But Kei…”
“Don’t call me that!” Tsuki practically growled.
“Why not? It’s your name. And you call me by mine.”
“Kei lived during happier times. If this nightmare ever ends, you may use my name again. Until then…”
Akiteru sighed. “Fine. I’ll call you Tsuki. Though, I seem to remember a time when you hated the nickname.”
Tsuki shrugged. “Yeah, well, I don’t anymore. I haven’t for a long time.”

There was a few minutes’ of awkward silence between the brothers. They’d been close once, when they were still kids, and their family was whole. But, while Tsuki was in middle school, their father disappeared without a trace. As the heir to the Tsukishima family, this was disastrous. As far as Tsuki knew, there were still hired men out there looking for him, over a decade later. Even so, Grandmother eventually convinced their mother into moving to the family compound, and life for their small family started a slow downward spiral.

They weren’t the mafia, but they might as well have been. Grandmother ran the family, and their small township, with an iron fist and according to how she thought things should be run. She controlled the purse strings, was strict, merciless, and very set in her ways. She absolutely did not tolerate anything outside of her views, and anything that could bring disgrace to the family (and the Tsukishima name) was… dealt with. Mostly by a huge payment and relocation to another prefecture, with promises (in writing) to never return.

But there were times when something more permanent was required.

Tsuki found that out during his third year in high school. He came out to his family, thinking they’d still love and support him. He had no reason to think otherwise. Life was good. He planned to confess his feelings to his crush of two years. But then, he’d started finding out just how little his family supported him.

First, Akiteru warned him not to confess, and never gave him a good reason why. So did his mom, with the same response. His Grandmother never said a word, but sat in stony, disapproving silence. But, still wanting to be happy, Tsuki ignored them all. With disastrous results.

Even now, he almost wished he hadn’t ignored them. But he really couldn’t regret his decision.

“So, who is he?” Akiteru asked, bringing Tsuki back to the present.
“Surprised you don’t know already.”
“Contrary to what you think, I don’t always pry into your life.”
Tsuki shrugged. “True enough.”
“So?”
Tsuki shrugged. “Friend of mine,” was all he said, trying to downplay his relationship with Kuroo, though it stuck in his throat to say that. Kuroo was so much more than a friend.
“Somehow, I don’t believe you.”
“Doesn’t matter if you believe me or not.”
“Friends don’t kiss each other like that.”
Tsuki looked at his brother sharply. “How much did you see? How long were you watching us?”
“Long enough to know you’re more than friends.”
“Then why’d you ask?”
“Curiosity, mainly. No matter what you believe about me, you’ll always be my baby brother, Kei.”
“Met him two and a half weeks ago. We won this trip to Kyoto from his aunt’s quilting club…” his voice trailed away. “Mom’s friend. Is she from Tokyo?”
“Yeah, why?”
Tsuki’s hand covered his mouth. “She could be one of the ladies in the same quilting club with his aunt.”
“Putting that aside for the moment,” Akiteru wasn’t going to be diverted. “You love him, don’t you?”
Tsuki didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to. It was written all over his face, and shining in his eyes. Akiteru nodded and smiled.
“I’m happy for you, Kei.”
“Good. I’m glad,” Tsuki replied with heavy sarcasm. “Because now I have to leave him. I have to leave the best thing that ever happened to me, and I hate it!”

He hadn’t realized he’d raised his voice. He hadn’t realized he was crying. Aki tried to calm him, tried to reach out to hold him like he used to when they were younger. But Tsuki backed away. He was turning around when he ran right into Kuroo’s arms. Kuroo, who held him tight and glared daggers over his shoulder at Akiteru. Tsuki wrapped his arms around Kuroo, grabbed handfuls of the back of his shirt, gave himself up to his impending heartbreak, and cried.

“I assume you’ve said what you need to say,” Kuroo growled menacingly. “You need to leave.”
“Protective? Even after such a short time? Impressive,” Aki said mildly, ignoring Kuroo’s threatening manner. He reached into his coat pocket and brought out an envelope. “Here.”
“What is it?”
“Information for Tsuki. From our mom.”
“Why should I take it?”
“You don’t have to. Tsuki does. It’s important.” He continued to hold it out toward them.
“Why should I trust that Grandmother hasn’t already seen what’s in that?” Tsuki asked, his voice muffled.
“They can’t follow mom everywhere,” Akiteru said. “She hid this and told me where to find it.”

By now, Tsuki had slowly let Kuroo go enough that he could turn and face his brother. They stared at each other and didn’t say a word. Whatever passed between them, it was enough for Tsuki to reach out and take the envelope. He tucked it into his pocket, and then wiped his face free of tears. For a few moments, Akiteru’s pained expression spoke volumes. He really did miss his brother. But it was gone the moment Tsuki finished wiping his face, the nonchalant facade back in place. For Kuroo, nothing made sense. He wanted to know what was going on, and what any of it would mean for Tsuki and himself.

“For what it’s worth,” Akiteru said as he dug out his keys, “Grandmother isn’t doing well. Doctors aren’t hopeful, but of course, she’s ignoring them. She thinks she’ll live forever.”
“I’m sorry… I guess?” Tsuki said it in such a way that no one could doubt that he was wholly not sorry in the least. No love lost there, it seemed.
“Anyway. I have to go. Maybe we can catch up another time?”
“Maybe.”

Akiteru left them, raising an arm to wave as he went. Once he was out of sight, Kuroo and Tsuki turned to face each other.

“We should go,” Tsuki finally said. He tried to smile, but wasn’t quite able to do it.
“After all that, do you just want to stay in our room for the rest of our vacation?”
“Why? I mean, I know we are going to be vacation hermits tomorrow, but I know you really want to visit the shrine. We can still go. I’ll be fine.”
“Tsuki…”
“I want to see the shrine too, you know. And since we plan to go much later, there’s a very good chance we’ll have the place to ourselves.”

Kuroo took Tsuki’s hands and pulled until they were pressed together. He wrapped his arms around Tsuki, holding tight. Tsuki reciprocated, once again taking hold of Kuroo’s shirt in the back.

“Why are you doing this? Why are you acting like everything’s back to the way it was before your brother showed up?”
“Because that’s how I need it to be. At least, for right now,” Tsuki explained quietly. “For the rest of tonight, let’s do everything the way we planned. Dinner, resting, visiting the shrine. Taking pictures for your aunt. Being happy. Can we do that?”

Kuroo melted. He knew what Tsuki was trying to do, and if that would help him in whatever way he needed, then Kuroo would do everything in his power to make it happen. This day took a hard left turn the moment Akiteru Tsukishima showed himself, and now Tsuki was trying to get things back on track. At least for a little while.

“If that’s what you want, then we’ll do it,” Kuroo replied gently.
“Thank you.” Tsuki leaned back to look at him. “Let’s put the kitchenette to good use. We can pick up a few things on the way back.”
“Sure. Are you going to cook something for us?”
“Yeah. I mean, it won’t be anything fancy…”
“I’m sure I’ll love it.”

They took the train back to the hotel, and stopped at a nearby grocery store to pick up what Tsuki needed for dinner. Then, they went to their room, with Tsuki telling him little stories about his high school days. Through it all, Kuroo watched him talk, loving the way his eyes lit up when talking about his volleyball team. He spoke about how he’d antagonize Hinata and Kageyama, but Kuroo could tell he didn’t do it out of spite or hatefulness. Then, he would talk about his senpais: Tanaka, Nishinoya, Daichi, Asahi, and Sugawara. He admired them all. Even the ones he called the Bench Squad: Kinoshita, Narita, and Ennoshita.

It was like they were family to him. The players, the managers, and especially the coaches. Even the cheer squad formed by two guys his coach was friends with, and Tanaka’s older sister. Tsuki spoke more of all of them than he did his real family. After meeting his older brother, Kuroo could see why.

After they ate the grilled rice balls Tsuki made, they set an alarm for 10pm, settled under their quilt, huddled close together, and slept. Neither realized how exhausted they were.

By 11pm, they were ready to go to the shrine. It was less than a mile from their hotel, so they walked. Hand in hand, they explored the main hall and various other buildings that were still open to the public. They even bought a few souvenirs from the shop.

The walk up the mountain, they were told, would take 2-3 hours, if they went all the way to the top. The torii gates thinned out about halfway up, so that’s where most visitors turned around to go back. Kuroo and Tsuki looked at each other, smiled, and decided they’d go all the way to the top.

Except, it took them longer than the 2-3 hours. They explored everything along the way: tiny shrines, off the main path, with kitsune statues; little shops that offered charms and souvenirs, and there were even restaurants along the way. They acted like children, chasing each other through the gates, and around them, too. Their laughter echoed around them and into the night. They didn’t care who heard or saw them. If anyone did.

Pictures were taken, too. Kuroo told Tsuki about the joke he’d told his aunt, about taking pictures of every torii gate. So, he took several pictures of the gates in nearly every angle imaginable. But, they also took pictures of each other: single shots, and selfies of them together. There were plenty of silly poses and faces, but the majority weren’t. It was like they’d silently agreed to taking real pictures without the antics.

When they reached the top, they were amazed at the beauty of Kyoto at night. Lights almost appeared to be twinkling from their viewpoint, and there were lights of many colors. Tsuki took it all in, his expression awed, and his smile radiant.

“The view is amazing, Kuroo!” he exclaimed. “It’s beautiful!”
“Yes, it is,” Kuroo agreed softly. He wasn’t looking at the city lights.

There was no mention of coming back. It was a glaring omission, considering they’d talked about it the night before. Both of them knew it, too, and the mood almost fell to unacceptable levels.

Kuroo brought his phone out and took a picture of Tsuki, smiling softly. “Stay there,” he whispered, and stepped back, taking yet another picture, this time capturing Tsuki’s silhouette against the lights of Kyoto. He walked back to Tsuki’s side, and showed him the two pictures.

“That’s my favorite view,” he said quietly. “But I think I know how I can make it even better.”
“How?”

Kuroo took his phone, took a single step back, and held it up, aiming it at Tsuki’s face. Then, he moved so that he could see Tsuki around his phone.

“I love you,” he said simply. “I couldn’t begin to tell you when it happened. Maybe it was when we first met, or maybe it was gradually over the last few days, but… I love you.”
A few moments later, he snapped the photo that became his favorite of all time. Tsuki’s face had gone from mildly confused to radiantly happy in seconds. His golden brown eyes shimmered with emotion and unshed tears. Kuroo put his phone away and went to his love, gathering him in his arms and holding him.

“Just so you know, I didn’t say that just to get a picture.”
“I know.”
“I needed to say it. I wanted you to know how I felt.”
“Kuroo?”
“Yeah?”
“Shut up,” Tsuki said, leaning back just enough to look at him. “I love you, too.”

Kuroo felt the sting of tears in his own eyes, knowing he looked exactly like Tsuki did a few minutes ago. In order to keep the tears from falling, he looked at Tsuki’s face, his eyes, and flitted over his moonlit-silvered hair.

“Moonshine,” he whispered reverently.
“Pardon?”
Kuroo grinned and bit his lip. “Moonshine. My new nickname for you.”
“Okay, but why?”
“It’s a secret,” he said mischievously. “Maybe one day I’ll tell you.”
“Hmph.”
“Oh stop pouting. It’s a good nickname!”
“Never said I didn’t like it. But now, it’s only fair that I give you one, too.”
“Oh yeah? Like what?”
“I don’t know. I’ll think of something.”

They took their time coming back down. In the weak morning light, they found a little shrine off to the side that they hadn’t noticed before. Perhaps because it was just a little further back from the main path, or maybe because it was half-hidden by trees. Whatever the reason, they decided to take a closer look at it.

There were kitsune statues surrounding the little shrine, and someone had lit some incense with a calming scent neither of them could quite name. It reminded Kuroo of the little shrine he’d found last night. Grinning, he took a step closer, clapped his hands softly, and started to pray. Within moments, Tsuki stood close beside him, and followed suit.

Kuroo prayed for their continued happiness.
Tsuki prayed for Kuroo’s safety, and that he’d forgive him.

There was a little stack of paper for writing wishes, and both of them did that, too. Tying their papers to the strings tied between bamboo stalks, they said goodbye to the little shrine, and then headed back to the hotel. By the time they reached their room, the sun had fully risen and their Sunday staying in began.