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selarina · 9 months

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Ghosts in Love

-> Suna Rintaro x Reader, Kageyama Tobio x Reader,

Chapter 3: Crossroads

Summary: Amidst shared streets and familiar alleys, chance encounters with your ex at grocery stores or parks evolve into shopping together and sharing park benches.

Loosely inspired by the poem "Ghosts in Love" by Carl Sandburg

Content Warnings: angst, exes, childhood friends, love triangle, pining, fluff, slow burn, nostalgia, slice of life, chicken, hurt/comfort, rain, internal conflict, eventual smut

Taglist: Open

Author's Note: Can be read as a one-shot. Guys I actually can't choose between them, it's driving me insane

Read on AO3 | Series Masterlist

Things with Tobio are great. You like watching him from over your place at the kitchen’s slab as he works around you. When he notices you staring, you notice soft tints of red kissing his face but sometimes, you see him smirk to himself, the same way he does after small victories in a match.

You’ve been watching him in action. It’s odd, all you knew about volleyball before was Suna. He taught you the rules, he helped you through your first game, and his jersey sits in a warm hidden crevice in your bureau somewhere but now that you’ve attended and seen Tobio in action, it’s all different.

Suna taught you about victories and how it made him happy, how it made him want to buy a watch, how it made him want to lazily lie on your stomach as he recounted details you didn’t understand from the match.

With Tobio, you learn about strategy and losses. You learn about the failures and how it leaves Tobio reeling into a different space — a space that doesn’t really hold a space for you, a space where you’d rather not be in any way. It’s not to say Tobio fails all the time, it’s just to say Suna never showed his failures. He’s always found it easier to hide them in a closet full of other repressed and discarded clothes

You watch as Tobio slathers some caviar onto the slab of chicken, his eyes so focused you think it could pierce through the chicken.

“Tobio,” you speak up.

He hums, urging you to speak even if he isn’t looking at you.

“I’m sorry about the game last night,” you say.

“Why?” He brings a piece of the chicken slab to your mouth for a taste. Your mouth opens, your mouth filled with a briny taste. “Not your fault.”

“No — ‘Course not,” you add. “Just don’t like seeing you upset.”

“It’s fine, all part of the game.” He replies, his concentration not breaking as he continues to work on other slabs of chicken.

“Hm? It's just interesting. Suna always seemed so carefree about volleyball. But with you, it's like there's a whole world of strategy and sadness.”

“Sadness?”

“Yeah, like you’re sad when you lose. He was just always the same I guess?”

“Oh,” Tobio joins to stand right next to you, his expression softening. "Volleyball means a lot to me," he admits. "It's not just a game. It's about pushing my limits, improving, and giving everything I've got. Sometimes it's frustrating, and when I lose, it's hard to let go."

You don’t know what to say. You just reach for his hand, it finally stops him from working his way through all the empty slabs of chicken.

He smiles, leaning in to leave a soft peck against your cheek. Your hands squeeze against his own.

He parts, your thumb brushing one last time before he lets go.

—

Days turn into weeks, and the leaves have turned red. They fall so often now, decorating the ground on your walks.

A single crimson-red leaf falls to the ground, seeping itself into a puddle in the ground. You think about Tobio and how his little mannerisms have managed to seep into the regular pendulum of your life.

You don’t think about Suna that often. Your schedule is tight and you spend most of your free time with Tobio. You always thought of Tobio as a one-trick pony but surprisingly, he had a range of hobbies he liked to indulge in.

You freeze in your tracks.

You haven’t seen Suna since that day outside the restaurant but right now, he’s standing right in front of you in the line to the billing counter.

You’re not sure what’s appropriate — should you ignore him? Should you greet him? It’s odd — they should really write a rule book to deal with your exes.

“Sir — you need to buy something else or pay by cash. It’s below the limit for an online payment,” you hear the cashier say.

Suna’s hand rummages through his pocket and his wallet. He ruffles through it quite a bit, seeming like he doesn’t have enough cash. You assume so because he just shrugs at the cashier, “Uhh, I guess I can buy something else. Just add in anything to reach the limit?”

“I can pay for you,” you speak up. You can barely believe you’re speaking up.

He turns, his gaze resting on your face before it flits down to your fidgety hands. “Are you sure?” Suna speaks,

Your hands go still. “Of course — it’s not a problem. What are you buying?”

He scratches his cheek, a tinge of embarrassment as he raises three packets of ramen. “Lunch,” he answers.

You smile, some things never change you suppose.

“You can scan his stuff with mine,” you turn, directly addressing the cashier who simply nods with a courteous smile.

“So, how have you been?” He initiates. You wonder if you would have if he didn’t. You don’t think you would, you’re sure you wouldn’t.

You don’t answer immediately, your eyes focused on the cashier who scans the items you keep placing on the counter. Suna steps forward, his hand coming out of the pockets of his sweatshirt as he bends down to help you get the items that sit on the lower end of your trolley.

“Same old, same old,” you finally respond.

“Are you sure?” His voice resounds against your ears with a tinge of sarcasm.

“How have you been?” You deflect whatever that was.

“Same old, same old.” He quips to which you simply stare at him blankly before your hands reach to pay the cashier.

“So… It was nice seeing you,” you speak up over the rain as the two of you stand outside, right under the wing that just barely shields you from the rain.

“Likewise,” he says.

His eyes not leaving the rain in front of you as your eyes linger on him.“It always seems to be raining when we meet,” you say, absentmindedly. Just something you thought of.

“Yeah,” he says, turning. He’s directly staring at you now, eyes gazing from your face to your hands that hold your heavy grocery in a tote bag that’s hanging by a thread in your hand, as he adds — “First time we met too.”

“And first date,” you add, brows rising with amusement.

His eyes linger for a bit, and your smile dies down.

“First kiss,” he says plainly.

You turn away, your eyes flitting to the slowing rains, your hands coming out of your pocket to check.

“I guess I should be able to manage now,” you murmur before you turn to say goodbye.

“We should go to the concert,” he speaks up, cutting you off mid-way, his words leaving your mouth ajar.

You swallow, “What?” Your word comes out barely above a faint whisper.

“I mean — I think we’re in a good place, and those tickets were expensive. Rather not waste it,” he responds, plainly but with a tinge of defensiveness to his tone.

You let out a sigh, your eyes flitting back to the front as you notice the rains have stopped entirely now.

“I suppose we could,” you respond.

“Yeah? Plus, I’ve missed you, I guess,” he adds.

You chuckle lightly, “Yeah?”

“Yeah, even without the fucking, I’d like to have you back in my life,” he professes like it’s the testament of unbridled sweet compliments.

You shake your head, turning towards him, eyes glinting with amusement you say, “Wow. You do have a way with your words, don’t you Suna Rintaro?”

He smiles, “So I can text you about it then?”

“It’s a month away,” you reply.

His brows raise. So what? It reads.

“Fine, I guess you can text me about the concert,” you stress.

“Yes ma’am,” he replies, as he pulls his hood over.

“And for god's sake, eat real food. Please,” you urge before you could take your leave.

“You’ve been dying to say that, haven’t you?”

You don’t respond, merely squinting at him before you part ways. Your feet step on a particularly crunchy, and you think about how much you’ve missed him. And then there’s a quick flash of Tobio’s face and you think maybe this isn’t right?

A few drops fall on your head, you look up — and then it pours, a slew of heavy droplets hitting your head and you’re forced to run home.

As you hurry along the wet sidewalk, you spot Tobio walking towards out of his car, holding an umbrella above his head. His hair is slightly damp, and his expression holds a mix of confusion as he approaches you. Without a word, he opens the umbrella wider, making sure both of you are sheltered from the downpour.

“Thought you were going to be home,” he says.

“I was but it started raining, so I got late,” you explain as the two of you rush back in.

The two of you get in, and you rush to the bathroom, taking a light shower — your mind still preoccupied with the encounter you just had with Suna.

You spot Tobio brewing some tea for you as you walk out in your robe, taking a seat on the couch. Your wet hair sits uncomfortably against your neck, as you run your towel through it as you speak a soft, “Hey, what are you brewing?”

“Chamomile,” he replies, his hands resting on the slab.

“Yeah, I can’t wait to take a long nap.” You stretch back into the couch.

Tobio glances at you, his gaze lingering before he speaks up again, "Everything okay?"

You hesitate, unsure of how much you should share because really it’s nothing, right?

“Hm? Yeah, just tired.” You reply, a tired smile hanging off your face.

He simply nods as he plops himself next to you, his hand stretching to hand you your usual cup.

You think about how nice this is, how nice he is, and a future of a hand holding umbrella over your head, and warm tea but then you think of nights under the rain and hot ramen with towels on your shoulders.

“Thank you,” you reply as you take a careful sip before you place it on the table in front of you, as your hand comes up to run over the towel on your shoulder.

Taglist: @alienvarmint @sagejin

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