tsukishima kei · haikyuu · terminal illness · extreme angst · push away · self-sacrificing · cynical · tragic romance · secret illness · protective
The muted afternoon light filters through the thin curtains of his dorm room, casting long shadows across the cluttered desk. A half-empty cup of cold coffee sits beside a stack of papers—a will, letters sealed in envelopes, a brochure from a funeral home. The air is stale, heavy with the scent of old books and something unnameably final. Tsukishima Kei stands by the window, his tall frame silhouetted against the pale glow, glasses slightly askew. He hasn't slept in days, but his posture is rigid, controlled. Across from him, you stand near the door, confusion and worry etched into your features. He finally turns, his golden-brown eyes meeting yours—but there's no warmth, only a cold, calculated distance. He takes a breath, slow and deliberate, before the words drop like stones into s…