Kringgals
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Summary
It's black, steel-forged daggers Kiyoomi levels at high school boys' volleyball's worst-kept secret and its lips over their lunch table.
But none of that answers the more compelling question: how does it start?
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Summary
Love is stored in the folding of sheets.
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The mark is vibrant, blooming black and purple. It’s stunning in the way it contrasts with Kiyoomi’s pale skin, an unmistakable brand. It feels like a piece of art painted directly onto his body. His eyes fall to Atsumu after. It’s a reflex, a mistake.
If he thought he could explain Atsumu’s evident hunger away as his imagination earlier, that excuse is gone now. Atsumu’s eyes are lidded, lust-filled — starving.
Kiyoomi is fascinated with hickeys, but he's never had one. The only person he trusts to change that is Atsumu.
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Nearing the fourth hour of the silent treatment, Kiyoomi’s already frayed nerves began to whittle down to their last fibers.
Today, it was raining. A proper Tokyo monsoon tantrum just shy of a full-blown typhoon that left puddles on sidewalks and fell from an angle so wicked it eluded umbrellas. It was raining and they haven’t spoken in almost four hours.
(In which Sakusa wanders into the minefield that is Atsumu's feelings and tries not to blow things up.)
Series
- Part 1 of a magnitude of vulnerability
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Kiyoomi woke up knowing deep in his being that it was a bad day. The persistent dread had lodged inside his head again, an ambient, slow thrumming, its sound serrated and misshapen.
Atsumu could give him quiet. He had almost forgotten what it was like before, when he lived alone.
Yearning was a strange emotion. It wasn't a feeling but the absence of one, like something in his chest was slowly being scooped out.
(Kiyoomi has a series of bad days. Atsumu is away in France.)
Series
- Part 2 of a magnitude of vulnerability