the air is crisp and cold and soaks deliciously into his bones when yamaguchi falls into a squat, his head in his hands. he had just realised something, something so heart-wrenching and earth-shattering, that his legs had started shaking, and not with the cold. yes. he is certain now.

he is in love.

he rubs his quivering hand down his face and flashes of a certain sulky blond middle blocker appear in his mind. he clutches his head again.

holy shit.

he huffs out a breath he didn't realise he was holding, and the billowing cloud swirls up into the night sky that tsukki loves so much.

tsukki.

yamaguchi scrunches up his face. he thinks of that one smirk that tsukki always pulls when he blocks one of hinata's spikes. the way the corner of his mouth twists upwards and his golden eyes flash with some kind of triumphant malice. some imaginary force strikes yamaguchi right in the centre of his chest.

what THE FUCK is happening to him?

yamaguchi sits there for a minute or two, and the cold air is suddenly comforting, like a hug from a snowman. like a hug from a snowman? what the fuck? is that what love does? makes you utterly stupid? he pulls himself up reluctantly and  just about manages to stifle a scream.