Several days later, you and Tsukishima were back at the lake, silence shivering through the trees that danced around you. Your chest felt tight from the unwanted silence, making your breaths spill out in short, inaudible intervals, tickling your bare arms that rested on your knees.

Tentatively reaching forward, you grazed your fingertips over the water's crystalline surface, cupping a handful of water and watching it trickle between your fingers like grains of sand in an hourglass, reminding you how fragile water - and time - truly was.

You felt Tsukishima's gaze on you the whole time, but didn't turn to meet it. Instead, you peered down at your shimmering reflection, an intangible, blurry mirror-image that did little justice to your dark bags, thick splay of freckles and tousled [h/c] hair.

Words danced on the tip of your tongue, itching, until - unwittingly - you freed them. "Do you think I'm ugly?"

Nothing stirred behind you. You had to wonder if Tsukishima was still there. And, if he was, what expression would be snagged on his face.

The question was the seed of your mother's outburst last night - the comments she had screamed from the bottom of a bottle.

Then Kei sniffed, and sighed, and cleared his throat. "No."

Your heart clenched. Not the answer you were expecting.

"But you're not... pretty either."

Your mouth dried up, words sticking in your throat like webs, choking. But he wasn't finished.

"You're just... you. There is no pretty or ugly. There's just the person." He sounded irritable as he answered, but genuine all the same, speaking with a profound honesty that made your heart ache.

Tsukishima cleared his throat again, climbing to his feet with a stretch. "My legs are cramped so I'm going for a walk," he said bluntly. "You can come if you want." The latter part came out as more as a mutter, his eyes not quite meeting yours as you turned to face him.

"S-sure," you stuttered, almost tripping over a log nestled amongst the leaves as you fumbled clumsily to your feet. Kei's cheek twitched, apparently debating something, before he began leading you out of the forest.

"W-what you said back then was, uhm, really inspiring," you started awkwardly, reminding yourself of Yamaguchi's stumbling speech predicaments. "So, uh, thank you."

Tsukishima shrugged, tugging at the collar of his coat, nestling his cheek against the fur-lined hood. You had to wonder if he was perhaps trying to cover up a blush. "I just don't see the big obsession over how you look. It's the face you were born with. Get over it," he muttered, his tone indifferent but his eyes lit like a lantern striving to burn in the pressing dark. Striving to be seen.

You cracked a smile at this. "More people ought to listen to the things you say," you mused, heels clicking together against the cracked flagstones. Your hands hung loosely in your pockets, a scarf threaded around your neck. You were somewhat happy to see Tsukishima was still wearing the gloves you'd borrowed him. "Where are we headed anyway?"

Kei sniffed. "Not sure. We're just... walking."

"Hey, you like pork buns? I know a great place that sells them. It's just a few blocks away."

Tsukishima pursed his lips and shrugged. "I guess," he muttered, brushing aside the hair that had tumbled over his face. It was weird to say, but he seemed fresher today - as if a breeze had come and dusted all the cobwebs from his mind, leaving him with more space to breathe. You wanted to see this side of him more. Much more. This side of him made you happy. And you didn't have many things in your life that made you want to smile.

"It's just over this hill," you pointed out, your calfs burning as you climbed the steep embankment. "I have-"

"Shit," Kei muttered, and you lifted your eyes at the sudden expletive, focusing on a trio hovering outside the shop. Picking out a familiar ravenette from the gang, your hands subconsciously drifted up to your neck, where the bruises were beginning to fade, gone unnoticed by everyone who should have. Nevertheless, the blonde didn't stay his stride, so you bumbled along after him, nerves fluttering in your stomach.

"Ohhhh, look who it is," one of them said - a lean boy with a shaved head and a keen gaze. He laid a finger over his knuckle and popped the joint. You swallowed, moving closer to Kei. "It's the freak and his girlfriend."

A smaller boy with stark orange hair jumped excitedly on the spot. "Awh look, she's even hiding behind him!

Baldy snickered. "As if he'd try and protect her. He'll probably join in with the beating."

Tsukishima glanced sidelong at you, the muscles in his jaws bunched up to give his feature's a more pointed edge. "Don't get involved in this."

You looked away. "Not sure they'll give me a choice."

The taller one with black hair, that scowl imprinted seamlessly atop his brows, moved a few paces forward, running his knuckles down his thigh. "Let me guess - you're here buying more drink to feed your brother's little habits, hm? Or maybe you've decided to follow in his footsteps? Try it out for yourself?"

"I'm not in the mood for this. Let us pass and we won't bother you."

"Tsk. But it's fun when you bother us." A second later, a fist came windmilling toward Tsukishima's face. Something cracked and blood sprayed the pavement.

Your stomach gave a sharp lurch at the sudden spatter of red, but you held it down and stepped between the two boys.

"Don't you think he's going through enough crap? He doesn't need this too," you spat, feet braced firmly against the ground. The boy bit his lip as he eyed you, like prey, then all of a sudden his fist flew out again. Your eyes clenched shut in anticipation, but the fist never connected.

You blinked open an eye. The boy's fist was wedged firmly in Kei's palm, both struggling for dominance over the hit. Tsukishima grunted, driving him back firmly before grabbing your hand and pulling you past them. The bald guy reached for your other wrist, but you shook him off, stepping through the doors to the shop. You knew they wouldn't try anything in here with the risk of being called out on by the owner.

"Damn it, your nose." You blanched as more blood pooled from his nostrils, dropping off his chin. "You need to go to the-"

"It's fine," he gritted, holding it with his fingers. "It's not broken."

You stared at him incredulously. "Not broken?! How-"

"Woah woah, what the hell's going on? You a'right there kid?"

You turned to the man now leaning against the counter, his blonde hair scraped back by a thin band and an apron strapped around his waist. "My friend got into some trouble," you said carefully as he eyed Tsukishima's bloodied face. "Do you have anything we can use to clean it up?"

The man hummed. "I have a first aid kit at the back. Come with me kid."

You shot Kei a weak smile as he walked off, and you saw something glaze over his eyes for a second. Guilt? Regret? Whatever it was, it hadn't been there before, and it wasn't there when he looked away.

You picked at your fingers absentmindedly until the two came back, a surgical plaster on his nose. Kei didn't look impressed.

The man turned to you with an arched brow. "Make sure he gets to the hospital. He needs to get that checked out."

You nodded, bowing deeply. "Thank you for your help. Uhm, do you perhaps have a different door we can go through? Pretty sure those kids that did this are still out there."

The man smirked a little. "Sure. Want me to call the cops on them?"

You didn't even have to look at Tsukishima to see the disapproval on his face. "I don't think that'll be wise. Thanks again."