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"Of course I'll help you, Kageyama-kun!"
Teru might as well have signed a death sentence for himself when he made that promise.
He suspects, however, that even if he was somehow allowed a do-over of that interaction, he wouldn't hesitate one second to offer his help again, especially not when Kageyama had seemed so nervous to ask for it in the first place.
Even if it lands him here, glaring at a cat plushie as if it held the blame for all the misfortunes in Teru's life. It's not the plush's fault, really. But it's easier to blame a piece of fabric and stuffing than the turn and twists of his own mind.
Being here is not exactly how he expected to spend his weekend, if Teru has to be honest with himself. A plushie shop is also not what his first thought would have been when it comes to getting someone a gift—not that Teru's had to do that particularly often, all things considered, which is to say, he has never had to do it—, but Kageyama is not the type to get a generic gift, and although there's a big net of safety when it comes to gifting someone generally "cute" like this, the way in which Kageyama has been frowning and fussing over every possible choice for the past half an hour has been a dead giveaway about how much he cares about getting whoever-it-is something they actually like.
Which leads them… here.
"What do you think?" Kageyama asks, wringing his hands together with the kind of sincere eagerness that makes Teru want to do everything and anything for him. Except maybe this.
The plushie lets out a pitiful squeal from the tight grip Teru has it in.
"It's… nice. A very good choice, Kageyama-kun," he says, willing his cheeks to relax so his smile doesn't look like a mannequin trying to force its wood into something resembling a human expression. "It's not as conventional as a bear, but if you're sure they'll like it," whoever 'they' are, "then I see no reason not to get it."
Kageyama's face falls immediately.
"Ah, maybe not, after all…"
It's confusing, to say the least, when he seemed so sure of himself just a second ago.
Teru wants nothing more than to do something so that frown will disappear from his face, but before he has any chance to even think of what to say, the other's expression turns thoughtful. "Do you like plushies, Hanazawa-kun?"
The question takes him off guard enough to make all the half-formed phrases of comfort flee his mind. They were kinda bullshit anyway. He needs to ask Reigen-san how he makes it sound so sincere when he gets home later.
"Me?" he repeats, mostly so he can gather his thoughts before having to give a real answer. "Ah, well, I don't really…"
"Maybe a childhood toy?" Kageyama adds, looking like it just occurred to him. He must be genuinely curious about this, then.
But Teru doesn't really have anything sentimental like that. Not when it seemed so childish to keep anything from when he was a little kid. Heroes and protagonists don't need any reminders of the tender times in which they were still shielded from the world and cared for, because of course they don't need that, and neither does Teru, for that matter. At least that's what it had felt like, back when he had first moved to an apartment of his own.
Aside from that, the only times in which something of that sort has even passed his hands is during Valentine's days, and it hasn't even been something to his taste. As flattering as getting chocolates and the occasional flower or plushie is, looking at them just makes him feel oddly empty and lonely after a couple of days. It's easier to just trash them as soon as he's far away enough that nobody will recognize the dumped gifts and come to him crying the next morning.
"I don't tend to think about that," is what he ends up settling for. Keeping an easy smile on his face is not getting any easier.
Kageyama looks disappointed.
"Ah, but that doesn't mean you shouldn't get one!" He hurries to say, picking up what looks like… a burger with a face? "You just have to think about the person you're trying to find a gift for and I'm sure you'll find the right answer."
The other grabs the plushie handed to him, examining it as if it was a matter of life and death. Teru tries and fails not to feel self-conscious about a choice he didn't even think about.
If it were up to him and it wasn't vital for some unknown reason, he would probably already be out of here with a pick that wasn't common enough to seem uncaring, but not unusual enough to look like he's making fun of the other person. Or perhaps he wouldn't have entered this store in the first place, it's not like Kageyama is participating in some sort of holiday exchange in which the rules establish he must gift the other person a plushie, right?
He seemed adamant that he didn't want to buy clothes, even if he seemed to seriously consider it for the first five minutes after he requested his help. Teru can't say he blames him; Kageyama seems more secure in who he is and what he wants these days, but most of the time he still uses the clothes that his mother has bought for him, only occasionally wearing one of the few exciting things in his repertoire.
It works for him, of course, but since he's no expert in fashion, he probably doesn't want to risk buying something that the other person will dislike. Besides, since he hasn't told Teru yet the recipient of his gift, it'd be even harder to give him advice on styles, or even sizes. For all he knows, Kageyama could be looking for a gift to give to a baby cousin or something like that.
It'd be a bit presumptuous to try to pressure him to tell, and Teru is just happy to spend time with him, really. It's not like his mind is racing with the possibilities of who it could be, for Kageyama to disregard the idea of clothing, or a gift basket, or a gift card, or even just some loose cash if he's not confident in his knowledge of what the other person likes.
Because here comes the crux of the matter: Teru simply doesn't know. And that's making him far more annoyed than he has any right to be about this.
Probably not any kind of school exchange, now that Kageyama and him go to the same one; he would have heard about it, right? Even more so if there was anybody Kageyama has his eyes on from there, there's only so much one can hide from the rumor mill, and people tend to offer information to Teru freely just for the low price of being there, looking mildly pleasant, and not telling people to leave him alone immediately. He's far from the level of popularity that he used to have before he started living life how he ought to, but it would be ridiculous to miss something that huge.
He briefly entertains the thought that Kageyama-kun might still be chasing after Takane-san, but the idea seems even more absurd. Not only does she live in another city now, but Kageyama had already asked him for help to confess his feelings for her before. No matter how… peculiar that day turned out to be, he would hope that his friend wouldn't think that he would make fun of him for trying to give a girl he likes a sweet detail. Sisyphean of an endeavor as it might be, Teru wouldn't dare laugh on his face.
If it were for someone among the Kageyamas themselves, there would hardly be any reason to be apprehensive either. Which means they're discarded. The youngest of the Kageyamas is probably a bit of a nightmare to shop for, but he doubts that there's anything he could get from his older brother that he wouldn't like.
It's a fact he could tease him about if he didn't understand exactly where he's coming from.
The members of Spirit and Such are not an option either. Reigen-san surely would have mentioned it if they've had some sort of impromptu employee gift exchange, if only to panic when he realized that being stingy won't work on this instance. But he didn't seem in any hurry to get up from his place on the tiny couch when Teru bid him goodbye this morning, so it can't be that.
Which means this gift can't be for Reigen-san, Serizawa-san, Dimple, or…
Teru can practically feel a light bulb turning on his brain as his eyes fall onto a display full of small, green, humanoid plushies.
Kurata-san.
Almost absentmindedly, he walks towards the display and picks the first plushie he sees. Could it be?
Kurata has been one of the people steadily teasing Kageyama about Takane through the past months, especially whenever she gets wind of them communicating in any shape of form. Kageyama has looked mortified every single time, even as he clarifies that there are no romantic feelings going on between them, and Teru always assumed that the embarrassment came simply from the vulnerability that a topic like that brought him.
It never occurred to him to pay closer attention—and maybe he was trying really hard each time not to pay attention, waiting patiently for the topic to change as he drank his tea, or pivoted towards Serizawa-san to see if he needed any assistance, or made a book from the shelf float out of boredom—, but could it be that he has missed something so obvious right under his nose all this time?
Kageyama does spend quite a lot of time in Spirits & Such—less time than he used to, but still a considerable amount of his time—, and Kurata has taken a sort of semi-permanent residence there after class. Every time Teru has gone there, she has been there already. Which isn't a problem, of course, she works there, so of course she would be there, right?
And since Reigen-san is busy so much of the time with clients or making eyes at Serizawa, that naturally means that, whenever they're both at work, Kageyama and Kurata have plenty of time to spend together and bond.
This plushie doesn't seem to contain anything to make it squeak, which is good, because Teru is grabbing it quite tightly right now. He hopes that none of the stuffing gets displaced enough to make him have to pay for it and take it home.
Not that that's important to him at this very moment, because he knows that Kurata has known Kageyama for just a little longer than Teru has, and even got to see him with an alarming frequency considering that they went to school together for the rest of the year. It's Teru who gets to see the other boy on a daily basis these days, but that doesn't mean that the girl doesn't have an advantage when it comes to how much she knows Kageyama, and how much time she's had to charm her way into his heart, intentional or not.
Is that what happened? Did Kageyama move on from Takane only to realize that someone else had been there all along, waiting for him?
"Oh, that's a good one."
Teru yelps, jumping so high that Reigen-san would surely be proud of him. It's not often that his guard is down enough for someone to sneak up on him like that, and going from the other's boy's slow blink, he wasn't even trying to, but Teru's heart certainly is acting as if he had just tried to jump all the way across Seasoning City without the help of his psychic powers.
It's slightly humiliating.
"Kageyama-kun! Ah, huh, yes," he extends it to him, waiting until he takes him off his hands so he can clean his hands on his pants. "It's… unique, isn't it?"
The other boy makes a low hum, looking at the plushie with those same contemplative eyes he scrutinized the burger plushie with.
"Tome-san would like it," he says. He frowns slightly, and with the frown comes a subtle red all over his cheeks while he seems to be contemplating something with all he has.
The sight is not as pleasant as it would be in different circumstances. Maybe when Teru jumped, his lungs took the wrong turn and followed his veins all the way down to his feet, because that's where they feel like at this very moment.
"I'm sure she would, so if you feel like you're ready, I think we should—"
Kageyama looks at him with all the intensity of the world in his eyes. It makes Teru feel like there's no longer any air in his throat. He doesn't even need to be interrupted for the words to die over his tongue. "Do you like it?"
Does he like that he's helping Kageyama pick a gift—a romantic gift, most likely, considering that Kageyama is getting it for Christmas of all things—for a girl that he wasn't even aware was Kageyama's type? Not exactly, not, but he doesn't want to address the motive of his displeasure right now, especially not in front of those inquisitive eyes.
"The… plushie?"
Kageyama nods.
Having a moral crisis in a random aisle of a plushie store was also not in Teru's bucket list to complete this year, but it seems like it is what the world has in store for him right now.
If he says yes, he knows that he will have done right by Kurata—and Kageyama, by extension—, but he will have to see the ugly thing every time he passes through Spirits & Such, because surely she will bring it with her in some sort of sentimentalist effort to make Kageyama see that she liked the gift. The right choice, but one that brings with it endless amounts of annoyance.
If he says no, however, he will have to keep looking for something while he pretends that he doesn't know exactly who is it that Kageyama is hoping to charm with this gift, and trying to hold himself back from picking the ugliest thing he can find just so he reduces the chances that Kageyama and Kurata go from Kageyama and Kurata to Kageyama-and-Kurata.
It's a risky gamble.
He takes a deep breath and…
"Maybe something like that would be safer?"
He points to the worst plushie he has ever seen in his life.
… Perhaps he's not as mature as he would like to think.
Kageyama turns his head towards the display. Teru tries not to wince at what lies in there—it's a simple bunny plushie. Quite realistic, actually, if he has to make an honest assessment of it. There's nothing special about it, really, and that's probably its biggest sin. There's no life, no charm.
Behind it, there's a stand filled with teddy bears with oddly looking human-teeth for smiles, which would be a far more interesting choice. But because Teru isn't being the good friend he should be right now, he stays quiet and looks at the other boy walking to the bunnies and picking one of them carefully, almost reverently, examining it with the same critical eye he has given the other picks.
It gives Teru enough time to compose himself before Kageyama turns towards him again, eyes fixated on him and piercing through his soul. Or at least that's what it feels like right now.
"Do you like this one?"
"Yeah! It's very cute," Teru says, smiling like someone who's not telling the worst lie of his life. Maybe he's actually learning more from Reigen-san than he thought he was.
Kageyama nods, and that's that.
Before long, they're at the front, with Kageyama paying for his gift, nervously accepting the cashier's offer to wrap it up, and even turning as red as a pepper when the woman asks him if he's hoping to bring the gift to someone special. Teru looks away, pretending that the sight doesn't make him seethe with jealousy.
The walk home is silent. Not uncomfortable exactly, but Teru's gut is churning the whole way up to the crossroad in which they part ways.
It feels wrong.
Finally, they stop.
"Well," Teru starts. "I'll see you soon?"
Kageyama nods, but before Teru can make his strategic retreat back home to save whatever is left of his pride and dignity, he feels a hand grabbing the sleeve of his jacket.
"Kageyama-kun?"
The other boy, oddly enough, looks incredibly red once again. It's entirely possible that Teru has been misreading his cues all day and the boy simply has caught a fever, but that sounds incredibly stupid.
"Hanazawa-san… Teruki," oh, now his face must be just as red. "I… I'll see you soon!"
Teru barely registers the package being pushed on his chest before the other boy is off so fast that he's left doubting for a moment if he has learned teleportation in the brief times they haven't seen each other. But he can feel the static in the air, and the blues and purples imprinted behind his eyelids whenever he blinks make the uncomfortable flush over his body settle into an exciting thrill.
He's almost afraid to look at the bag, but when he looks down, there's no denying that it's the same one they just got at the shop.
It takes him a good fifteen minutes frozen in place before he can grapple with the feelings of shame, excitement, and the flutters in his stomach enough to walk towards Reigen-san's apartment.
"That's cute," Reigen comments, looking up from the kitchen table to look at the bunny that Teru has been gripping with two hands the whole way back.
"It's so ugly," Teru shakes his head.
"Ah, really? That's a shame. Are you getting rid of it?"
"Never," he swears, cradling the plushie against his chest with such force that one would think he's trying to merge it inside his body.
He doesn't even mind the grumbles about ‘kids these days’.
Looking at his boring, ugly bunny, he thinks that it’s been a good day after all.