Protection - Kei Tsukishima fanfiction

nine

"So how was it?" Tsukishima finished drinking the left over broth from the edge of the bowl and stared at its empty contents in contemplation. I gazed at him with hope, trying to read his eyes behind his glasses carefully, all the while mentally preparing for a beat down of complaints and insults to my cooking.

"And you made the broth from scratch?" He raised his eyebrow.

"Um, no stock but it's the good kind. That's what it advertises anyway." I pouted, trying to make up for my lazy take on a ramen broth, but who has the time to boil chicken legs the day before?

Tsukishima snickered, patronisingly covering his mouth with his hand, "That makes sense. Ha, you may as well have just used plain old boiled water instead. But good effort. Better luck next time. At least you chopped the spring onion correctly." His condescending and wide smile ran from ear to ear, squinting his eyes and lowing his head to meet mine in a towering position. Any hopeful thoughts I had about his feed back were long gone and were quickly replaced by defensive rage. I thought it wasn't half bad, but apparently I'm in the presence of a chief.

"Oh yeah? Let's see you try to make a ramen in one night, huh?"

"I'm sorry, Hoshi, I thought you wanted my honest opinion."

I grit my teeth, "Do you know what sugaring coating is?"

"Yes, but there's nothing I hate more then a liar."

"Oh good, so you do have some type of manners." I rolled my eyes, knowing full well the corners of his mouth were turned up into a grin. I think this is the longest we have been able to stay in each others company while talking nonstop, and 90 percent of it was spent engaging in casual banter that didn't seem like it wanted to end.

"Would you rather me lie so you keep making cheap ramen for the rest of your life thinking it tastes professional?" Every now and again, Tsukishima picked up random debris and rocks from around him, tossing them to the ground as a way to occupy himself and his need to fugit.

"Try it in a less condescending way?"

"Ok then. Make your own broth. Don't be lazy and use a stock. Also your noodles were over cooked."

"I think you're just adding stuff now."

For some reason, I didn't want this to end. This unusual and rare moment, without Yamaguchi, felt so refreshing and easy going--something that it had never been before. It seemed strangely friendly like we have been friends for longer, even if six weeks of short replies and insults is the only factor that binds our status as acquaintances. I'm guessing it's because Tsukishima is restraining from any over the top awkwardness or patronising comments in a attempt to ease the night, however, I could continue talking to this version of the himself for longer then it takes to finish our bowls of ramen. Actually, and dare I say, I wanted to talk to him, not just this version.

"So, it's getting pretty late, huh? If you want, you don't have to sta-- What are you staring at?" My attention was instantly taken by Tsukishima as he was staring directly in front of him, back hunched as to get a closer look and legs looking like they were ready to stand. He looked like he was ready to pounce, but on what?

"Someone's at the end of your path." He said coldly, not daring to take his eyes from the entrance where there was in fact a dark figure peeping through.

"Oh, um, I think it's probably for my mother."

"Is it your dad?"

"Nope."

"Then, who else is would it-- oh."

We both watched as the dark figure came closer, and I knew exactly what was happening. Most days, I usually just tend to ignore them, but it's always hard when they know my mother has a sixteen year old daughter in the same company and house; most of them even remember my name. As the light from inside the house illuminated his features, he was in a work suit, most likely coming back from his job, hands pressed tightly in his pockets and a awkward but mischievous grin crawling on his lips. I've seen this one before and I don't like him.

"Agh, sorry about this Tsukishima." He said nothing, however his intense stare of disgust he had over this stranger was more then words could say. This poor boy is being exposed to new situations he hadn't dream of experiencing and it's all my fault; I'm going to have to give him free food for the rest of his life to make up for this.

"Hey, uh, Seiren isn't it?" The man spoke, edging one leg onto the first step of the porch in a attempt to make a move into the house. He was trying his best not to seem creepy whilst under the impression of a new and rather unimpressed face besides me, relaxing his body and smiling awkwardly. I replied with a nod.

"Yeah, is your mom in her room?" Every time a word left his mouth I felt my body clenching in embarrassment. I knew Tsukishima could sense my uncomfortable presence, so he dared not to say a word and stayed incredible silent by my side, like he wasn't even there.

"Yeah she's-- she's in her room." I looked down at my entwined hands that rested on my knees.

"Cool, thanks." Just as he was about to enter, he stopped and looked back, "I heard that you failed your exam. She seemed pretty intense. She's a great women; you should try and help her out a bit, you know? Get her happy before I come round, okay kid? And for your own sake, I wouldn't interrupt us this time. You should stay out here, in fact, the night is beautiful. Don't you think?"

He smiled trying to cancel out the harsh sentence he deemed acceptable, taking one last look at me, Tsukishima, and then leaving swiftly, the bang of the door colliding loudly with both our ears. I don't think I need to explain both his and my mothers intentions, it seemed pretty obvious

"They are normally more friendly" I spouted out of the blue.

"They?!?" Tsukishima asked, shock and anger radiating from his voice in a overprotective manner, widening his mouth.

I didn't reply. I couldn't bring the courage to accept the truth; instead, I trapped my head between my arms and stared at the darkened wood of the steps, avoiding the glowing, golden brown eyes to my right.  I wasn't upset, or angry, or scared, or even disgusted, I was just more worried about the next words that would flow into the still atmosphere.

Seconds walked by slowly, only the sound of leaves and life elsewhere being the one thing that broke silence. It began to grow cold and wet with moister from the air seeping into the wood below--how I was going to remain out here for the whole night I had no clue; I was almost shivering. But Tsukishima stood up, quick enough to create a slow breeze to dance across my skin, and skipped the bottom two stairs until connecting with the ground, fixated on the path ahead. I watched him, evaluating his straight figure in the now dark glow of the night, contemplating his next move like we were in a strict game of chess. Was he going to walk away so soon, and without another word? Or was he just signalling that he wanted to return home without having to say so. I was startled above all.

"Come on." He was hesitant to command. No context. Just a simple order with more meaning and emotion then it came across.

"What?" I questioned.

"You're not staying here. Not with that man. Not with your mom with that state of mind. Not in the cold. Collect your stuff and come with me."