The amount of times the both of them have exchanged heated words could be counted on a singular hand, maybe both. Tsukishima considers himself to be down-to-earth, he doesn't blow his top a lot, when younger he couldn't balance his words with emotions so he spewed out whatever felt right—the same being said for his partner. Now, being an adult they've both learned how to express themselves without intentionally harming the other physically or emotionally.

In no way is he insecure of the relationship they both have, in fact, it's something he's grown to cherish after all this time. Tsukishima's tired, they're tired, and sometimes overstimulating feelings cause frustration and miscommunication which is exactly what happened over the past few weeks. Tonight in particular is where things got a little more heated, he didn't feel heard or understood by them, and neither did they.

They had stormed out mid-shout into the rain, a storm brewing late into the nightfall. Droplets soaked their hair, clothes, and face, merging with the tears on their face. Time's been lost, unable to determine how long it's been, mind drifted towards the arguement. At random, the rainfall stops, at least on them. "I'm not taking care of you if you catch a cold." Tsukishima holds an umbrella over their heads, embracing them in a silent apology.