Archive of Our Own ^beta

He wondered, sometimes, what it would be like if he had ended up going to Seijoh. Sure, it was prestigious in academics and sports, but his family was moving to Tokyo so it made sense to look for a school there. But, if he had really wanted to, his grandparents would have been more than happy to let him move in to attend.

Maybe he should’ve. They seemed so sad when they said their final good-byes before departing… Or, it was the fact that both their children were grown and moved away from Miyagi now. That could’ve bene it.

But, he was here, nothing he could do about it now.

He knew, growing up in Miyagi, that Tokyo would be filled with all kinds of people that weren’t exactly common back home. The delinquents back home might bleach their hair, maybe shave it all off to seem intimidating. Bleached Mohawks weren’t exactly common. Nor were hairstyles spiked up to look like an owl. And some of the bedhead he’d seen was positively atrocious.

Welcome to Tokyo.

“Hey hey HEY!!”

“Bokuto, shut UP.” His Captain pouted, a hand clutched over his heart, obviously offended. Yahaba ignored the puppy eyes, returning to where he was going down the checklist. “Yukie-san, the cooler?” The girl smiled wide, patting the container on the seat next to her. “Very good.” He flipped the page on his clipboard, glancing up every so often to check off the names. “Where’s Akaashi-san?”

“Akaashi’s MISSING?!” Bokuto lunged to his feet, ready to bolt out of his seat, if Konoha hadn’t grabbed the back of his shirt. “AKAASHI!!” Yahaba realized his mistake, but ignored the distressed hooting of his Captain, leaving that to the other third-years to deal with as he glanced around.

“Ah, there he is.” He marked off his fellow second-year’s name when he saw him outside talking to Coach. “Right. Well. Everyone’s here and everything’s packed, so we’re ready to go whenever—“

“Akaashi! I thought I lost you!” Bokuto dived into his seat, pushing him down hard to lean out the window, Yahaba now smooshed against the seat. “Akaaaaaashiii!!” Yahaba’s eye twitched, but he was too busy trying to shove Bokuto’s knee off him so he could actually breathe.

“Yahoo~ Bokuto-chan~!” His Captain blinked, perking up and looking around, acting just like his namesake. Akaashi, designated babysitter, motioned towards the brunet walking towards them, a surly looking raven keep pace beside him. “So glad you made it! I’m—“

“Wow! Your hair’s super fluffy, bro!” Akaashi quickly pulled on the back of his practice jersey, stopping him from his next action. “Akaashi?”

“Bokuto-san, don’t you dare.”

Yahaba stepped off the bus, stretching out his back and rolling his head. He blinked at the sight of Bokuto in Akaashi’s hold. “Oh? What’s he doing now?”

“Yahaba! Tell him I’m not gonna do nothing!” Bokuto pleaded as Akaashi kept a firm hold. Before them, the Seijoh players blinked, the preppy brunet blinking widely, the smile on his face showing that he had absolutely no idea what was going on. The raven watched on curiously.

“Oh.” Bokuto perked up. “Definitely keep hold of him, Akaashi-san. You want to pet him, don’t you, Bokuto?”

“Only a little! Look at his hair! It’s fluffy! And it bounces!” The brunet quickly stepped back. “See?!” The raven snorted, smirking up at his friend.

“Look at that, already makin’ friends, Oikawa.” Yahaba started, taking in the teen again. Said teen was eyeing Bokuto warily, hissing to the shorter under his breath.

“Oikawa… Tooru-san?” Multiple pairs of eyes moved towards him, including a familiar set of brown. “Ah, you’re the Captain? That must mean… You’re Iwaizumi-san, right?” Both nodded. “Pleasure to see you again. Thank you for having us, really. We look forward to the match.” Akaashi hesitantly let go and Bokuto puffed up his chest, hands on his hips.

“This’ll be totally awesome! Let’s play already!”

“’Again,’ Yahaba-san?” Akaashi looked vaguely curious, if these past two years with him told Yahaba anything. They were in the gym now, warming up for the practice match.

“Mm. I met them back in junior high, after a match. They wondered if I’d consider Aoba Johsai, but I was moving down to Tokyo, so I declined.”

“That’s right!” Yahaba jerked, the water bottle in his hands flying. How he managed it, Yahaba wasn’t sure, but Bokuto was beaming behind them. “You used to live up here, yeah, Yahaba?” His Captain’s booming voice was usually a curse, rather than a blessing. Such as now. While the team watched on, eavesdropping. 

“I did, yes,” he ground out. “And if Dad didn’t get the transfer, I’d probably be facing you from across the net, Bokuto.” Their Captain laughed, smacking his back a couple times.

“Good thing you’re on our side then!” Yahaba stumbled forward, thanking Komi when the Libero righted him. “I’d hate to deal with your serve!”

“Please, Bokuto-san, you’re disrupting the others,”Akaashi chided. Yahaba straightened, brushing at his jersey.

“It’s not like mine’s that much better than yours, Bokuto,” the setter dead-panned.

“What? Noo! You’re totally awesome! Don’t be so hard on yourself!” Yahaba and Akaashi shared a long-suffering look. “You are!”

“Thanks for the compliment.” The doors creaking open drew his attention, as did the two people slipping through them. He grinned. “Give me a minute,” Bokuto cocked his head, but it was really Akaashi he was talking to. The dark haired setter waved him off. “Grandma, Pap!” He jogged close, his grandmother quickly smacking his grandfather, a smile lighting up her face.

“Shigeru! Oh, oh, look! He’s here! Hiro, Hiro, look, it’s Shigeru!”

“I can see that, stop hitting me!” Yahaba snickered, leaning down to hug his grandmother, the woman pulling him in tight. His grandfather, only a bit shorter than him, ruffled his hair. “How ya been, Squeaky?”

Yahaba pulled away, frowning at his elder. “Pap, please, don’t, my team is just—”

“SQUEAKY!? HE CALLS YOU SQUEAKY?!” Yahaba turned furious eyes to glare down his Captain, who was too busy holding onto Konoha for dear life as they and Komi laughed, nearly doubled over.

“Thank you, Pap. This is exactly what I needed.” His grandmother smacked her husband, shooting him a remarkably unamused look. “Thank you, Grandma. The match’ll start pretty soon, so you can head up to the second floor,” he motioned towards the stairs that would lead up. His grandfather rubbed at the back of his head, obviously a little upset with himself. “I’ve been good. It’s nice that you could come see the match.” His elder perked and his grandma patted his cheek.

“Why of-course! We’d love to come see more, but you’re just so far away now…”

“I know, Grandma. I’ll come visit next time I have a free weekend.”

“Well, I’ll get the spare ready then! You tell me when and I’ll make your favorite!” Yahaba nodded and his grandmother started towards the stairs. “Come on, Hiro, let’s watch Shigeru’s team!” she waved over to the Fukurodani players and they politely waved back. “My, this’ll be such fun! Hiro!”

“I’m coming!” his grandfather rolled his eyes, following after his wife. Yahaba kept his smile in place until they were making their way up.

And then he turned to his friends, expression flat and pure murder in his eyes. Bokuto keened.

Across the court, Seijoh’s Captain and Vice-Captain watched as the brunet setter stomped towards his Captain, hissing at him and the other third years, their heads bowed as they took the lecture. “Say, Iwa-chan,” his friend grunted, tossing the ball up and taking a few steps before leaping. “Wasn’t he the setter from Namimori?” Iwaizumi dropped down, the ball landing in-bounds. He glanced at the brunet across the court, head tilted slightly in thought.

“Think so. Pretty decent. Didn’t you want him here?”

“Mm.” Oikawa watched the fluffy underclassmen curiously. “I did. He’s smart, we gotta keep an eye on him.”

“Oh? Alright, whatever you say. Guys, let’s finish up!”

“Yes!”

Yahaba clicked his tongue, watching as ‘Mad Dog’ blasted in from out of nowhere, smashing the ball down and barely missing smashing it in Onaga’s face. The first-year, stoic but sincere, stared down at where it slammed to the floor next to him. “Don’t mind, Wataru-kun!” He glanced over, nodding a bit. “Get the next one!” A stronger nod, with Komi edging up to pat his back. “Oi, Konoha!” The third-year twitched. “Move your feet or I’m breaking your arms!”

“Shi-shigeru!” He hunched his shoulders, puffing his cheeks out when he heard his grandmother. His grandfather, however, was laughing, remarking he was just like his uncle.

“You’re doing fine,” he growled while Konoha smirked over at him triumphantly.

Another volley and it was Bokuto who slammed it down this time, blasting through the block. He whooped, leaping up and grinning widely. “Yahaba’s Obaa-chan! Watch, watch! I’m serving now!”

“Go go, Koutarou!”

Oh, and yaay, Bokuto apparently charmed his grandmother with all his smiling and cheering.

“Coach, permission to go drown myself in the fountain?” He looked over at his Coach, his expression clearly begging for a way out. Yamiji patted his back lightly. “Is that a no?”

“That’s a no.” He sighed heavily, dropping his head down when Bokuto’s serve was returned but Konoha was able to hit it back over, watching as the ball dropped mere inches in-front of Seijoh’s Libero. He heard his grandma calling out congratulations to Bokuto, who beamed back up at her, preparing for his next serve. “Look on the bright side,” Yamiji hummed.

“Is there one?”

“Looks like you and Bokuto are going to be spending a lot more time together.”

“God, kill me now.” Yamiji laughed, taking amusement from his pain.

Ten minutes later, they decided a switch was needed. Seijoh was leading by six and they only needed two more for match point and they’d take the first set. And Bokuto was starting to act up.

“Time! Player change!” Yahaba stood at the edge of the court, holding up Sarukui’s number 3. Konoha groaned and Yahaba shot him a look. “Good!” Sarukui patted Yahaba’s back, murmuring a quiet ‘good luck.’ Yahaba’s grin was nearly feral as he made his way closer to where his teammates stood in wait.

“Yahaba’s obaa-chan! Yahaba’s gonna hit me!” Konoha waved to his grandmother and Yahaba smacked him.

“Stop your theatrics already!”

“Ooowwww—“ Yahaba tugged down Onaga, rubbing at his hair and grinning. “I’m in paaaaain.”

“Shut up. Good job, Wataru-kun~!” Yahaba praised and the first-year nodded. He let go, patting Komi’s back and shooting a thumbs up to Washio. “Alright, Akaashi-san, we gotta get number Sixteen off his game. He took a bit to warm up, but now he’s got a rhythm going.” Akaashi nodded, silent. “He’s got power, but his control is a little wonky. Bokuto,” his Captain blinked. Yahaba took in a breath. “It’s up to you.”

Bokuto seemed to glow, if his grin was anything to go by. “Leave it to me, hey hey HEY!”

They lost the first set and Bokuto was sulking, seated on the bench and gazing forlornly down at the polished floors. Yahaba was about three seconds away from throwing a water bottle at his head, but Akaashi slid in, placing the blue bottle in his hands and poking at his shoulders, murmuring quietly. Bokuto huffed, looking away.

“You can do it, Koutarou~!” Leave it to his grandmother. “Let’s see the Ace! Hiro, Hiro, you cheer too!”

“We’re here to support our grandson, Suki.”

“We’re here to support the team, Hiro! Honestly! Go Fukurodani~!”

Bokuto popped right up, laughing loudly and waving enthusiastically. Konoha waved too. Yahaba, reluctantly, waved as well. At the rate this was going, she’d be inviting the team up for the weekend and he’d have to see them even on his days off. “Your grandma’s great, Yahaba!”

“Yeah yeah, finish your water. Next set’s starting.”

Number Sixteen was glaring at him.

He didn’t know why, but the bleach blond had been watching him for a while, honestly. Akaashi had pointed it out a few serves after he was subbed in and since Yahaba was now aware, Akaashi considered his job done. Except, now Yahaba felt the urge to glare back and he knew that wouldn’t end well. Luckily, Sarukui had been subbed back in before the bonus setter lost his temper and he’d spent the remainder of the first set watching and making note of what to point out during the pause.

So, when the second set began and the blond kept looking over at him, the urge to growl was one he squashed down hard. For one, it would rile up the blond. Two, it would be unsportmanlike. And three, Yamiji would give him that mildly concerned look he developed over the years of dealing with Bokuto. Yahaba didn’t want to receive that look.

“Do you want to go back in, Yahaba?” The setter blinked up at his Coach, straightened up from his hunch on the bench.

“I’m not sure I’d be too helpful as a setter,” Yahaba spoke. Sure, it was good to sometimes get the two of them in, there was more freedom with receiving and giving tosses, but that meant they lost a spiker.

“Mm. It seems their Sixteen sees you as a threat.”

Greaaaat.

“Oh, you noticed him glaring too?” Yahaba laughed lightly, propping his elbow on his knee and dropping his chin in his hand. “Probably ‘cause I was the mastermind behind stopping that spike.” And that had been a fabulous moment for him. Minus Bokuto tackling him in a hug afterwards, cooing about how happy he was that Yahaba was taking all that blocking practice to heart. He swore he saw fire in Sixteen’s eyes as he probably swore vengeance for his pride as a spiker.

After-all, how often are you taken down a peg by the reserve setter?

“Probably. Good block, by the way.”

“Thank you. Seems all that—Bokuto, for the love of God!”

There was an indignant squawk and snickering as Bokuto blushed, the ball slipping over the net after wobbling precariously. “It went over, didn’t it?!” The ace held his chin high, looking to Akaashi for support. The setter nodded.

“This time!” Yahaba seethed.

“One time, Yahaba! It only happened one time!” Bokuto frowned, going on the defensive.

“Try eight! This year!”

“Y-you keep count?!” Fukurodani snickered at the look of surprise on Bokuto’s face, making him look even more like an owl than usual.

“Of-course I do. Now serve properly this time!”

“I-I will! You just watch me!” Yahaba straightened, crossing his arms and smirking, watching intently. Beside him, Yamiji hid a smile.

“You’re doing great, Koutarou, don’t listen to Shigeru!” Yahaba choked, turning around to look up at his grandparents. His grandma waved at their ace, who brightened back up.

“Sure thing, Obaa-chan!”

“Grandma, please!” Yahaba was regretting inviting them. So much regret. She tutted, frowning down at him. “Coach, Coach, please, the fountain is right there,” he could see it through the glass doors of the gym.

“Now now, who would help keep Bokuto in check? And block spikes?” Yamiji kept his eyes on the court, but there was a smile growing on his lips.

“Wait, wait, Hiro, Hiro, number Sixteen over there, isn’t that Genji’s boy?” Yahaba whirled around to stare up at his grandparents, then to Aoba Johsai’s Sixteen, who had tensed up. “Oh, oh it is! Well! Kentarou! Do your best too!”

The utter betrayal on Bokuto’s face made this all totally worth it.

Yamiji’s smile quickly disappeared. “Oh no. Yahaba,” if their Coach panicked, he would look panicked right now. But Yamiji didn’t do panic, so instead, it was just minor fear. “Yahaba, you need to do damage control.”

“No way, this is great,” and the smile on his face indicated as such as Bokuto started to wilt, the third-years leaping into action.

“Yahaba.”

“Fiiine.”

“Time please!” Yamiji stood up and the ref’s whistle blew. Yahaba rose as his team slipped towards them, Bokuto’s head hanging down.

Oh. Oh no. No. “Bokuto, are… Don’t tell me you’re crying.”

“I’m not!” He wiped harshly at his eyes.

“You totally are. Oh my God, you really like my Grandma, don’t you?” His Captain nodded, cheeks puffed up as he kept his mouth firmly shut. Yahaba’s head dropped down. “Bokuto, please, they live up here. They probably know near everyone. Sixteen’s the son of a friend, please don’t take it to heart.”

He stubbornly looked at the floor. He was totally taking this to heart.

“Coach.” Yamiji nodded and looked over at Washio, who gave a single nod. “Alright, listen here, Senpai.” Bokuto twitched at the name Yahaba rarely resorted to, but still refused to look up. “You…” I’m totally gonna regret this, “You’re totally awesome and I look up to you. You’re an amazing spiker and I’m proud to stand behind you, Captain.”

He was prepared for the hug. He was prepared for the sobbing. “You’re too cute, Shigeru!” he hugged him tight, near about breaking a few ribs. He scowled when he heard the tell-tale ‘aww’s, but ignored them for the sake of Bokuto’s mental well-being.

“Yes yes, Senpai,” he patted his back lightly. “I’ll ask Grandma to bake you a cake if we win.”

“You mean it?!”

“Oh, absolutely.”

“YOSH!” Bokuto let go and Yahaba stumbled. “Let’s win this!” He cheered, just as the ref blew the whistle for them to return to the court. Washio stayed behind as Yahaba followed them out. “I’ll show Obaa-chan how awesome I am!”

Yahaba took up position, incidentally in-front of the current bane of Bokuto’s existence. “You go, Captain.” He smiled across the net, the blond eying him suspiciously. He shifted his head, looking at Akaashi next to him. “I’m going to have to start calling him ‘senpai’ again, aren’t I?”

“You brought this upon yourself by inviting your grandparents.”

“In hindsight, it was a terrible decision.” He shifted, shoulders hunching as he raised his arms. He gazed back at Number Sixteen. “Don’t you agree, Kentarou?” The blond started, eyes widening slightly before they narrowed.

“Sure, Squeaky.”

Behind them, Konoha snorted and Yahaba leveled his best glare on the smirking blond. “Bring it.”

Fukurodani won the second set and pulled ahead early on in the third. Bokuto was immensely pleased with himself, as was Yahaba, who blocked another of Sixteen’s spikes, grinning widely while the blond bared his teeth in a snarl. Washio was sent back in and Yahaba continued grinning, watching as Sixteen dove almost recklessly into his spikes, putting too much power in some and sending them out of bounds. It took the Captain’s pouting and the Vice’s smack for him to settle back down, brooding.

19-13, Fukurodani.

Bokuto’s mood hadn’t dipped since he decided he was going to be totally awesome and win back his Grandmother’s favor. It was, honestly, kinda adorable how determined he was, but Yahaba really wished he wasn’t that fond of her.

He could hear the phone calls now, asking about how Koutarou was doing, when he’d come and visit and would he bring Koutarou along?

“Please never allow me to invite family members again, Coach.” Yahaba begged quietly, after another cheer from his grandma rang out for their Captain, who grinned back, waving happily.

“Well, he’s doing pretty well. You might just have to get him that cake.”

“Honestly, Suki, what’s next? You gonna make him cake?” Yahaba paled.

“Well, they’re all doing so well! I think they’d deserve something!” Bokuto looked up excitedly.

“I like chocolate!”

“Of-course, dear!”

Yahaba dropped his head, groaning into his hands while Yamiji laughed, slapping his back. “Grandma, please!”

“Bokuto-san, pay attention or I won’t let you have any.”

“B-but Akaaashi!!”

Fukurodani won, 2-1, the final set 27-25.

Bokuto was near vibrating with excitement as they shook hands, pausing when he reached Sixteen. His smile dipped before he squared his shoulders and took hold of his hand. Sixteen didn’t seem too keen on the idea, but followed through the action, a grimace on his own face.

And then it was Yahaba’s turn. “Good game,” the setter smiled. Blondie ‘tsk’ed, and shook his hand quickly. Yahaba’s smile twitched. “Mm.” Yahaba let go and moved down the line.

“Good job, Koutarou!”

“Thanks, Obaa-chan!” Bokuto waved cheerfully in-front of him, smiling widely.

“You too, Kentarou!” Sixteen tensed, freezing, before nodding quickly. Yahaba snickered and Sixteen shot him a look over his shoulder.

Ten minutes later found the smile no longer on his face when his grandparents joined Fukurodani’s loose huddle and his pap steered Sixteen over, the blond tense but resisting only a bit. “You all did such a wonderful job!” his grandmother hummed, patting Bokuto and Konoha’s shoulders fondly, the two grinning down at her. Bokuto was immensely pleased and Konoha was always up for annoying Yahaba. “We’ll have to come down and see more of your matches, Shigeru! It was quite exciting!”

“Y-you really don’t…”

“Look who I found!” His pap sounded too proud as he nudged the blond closer. “Shigeru! This is Genji’s boy, Kentarou! You remember Genji!” Yahaba shrugged a bit, smile strained.

“Not really?”

“Sure you do! Comes by the shop all the time! Tall fella, looks like he needs to sleep!” Kentarou did not seem pleased at all to be stolen away, but he bore it well.

“Um…” He was drawing a blank, honestly. It’d been awhile since he’d been to the shop and Genji wasn’t ringing any… “Oh! Gen-oji!”

“There we go!” His pap rested an arm around Kentarou, who seemed familiar with the action. “That’s what you called him! You and Ken’ll get along!”

Yahaba looked at the boy in his grandfather’s hold and made the executive decision that he could deal with it for a little bit. “Pleasure to meet you officially, Kyoutani.”

“…same.”

“Well!” His grandmother clapped her hands. “What are you doing now? Eating?” She looked expectantly at the coach, who ducked his head a bit.

“We have a fairly long drive ahead of us, Yahaba-san. So we were going to eat and then—“

“You drove?” His grandmother looked appalled and Yamiji was suddenly aware he made a grave mistake. He nodded slowly. “Why, it’ll be so late when you get back!” he nodded again. “No! I won’t allow it!” She wrapped her arms protectively around the two high schoolers a few heads taller than her. “You’ll stay the night!”

“Grandma, please, really, it’ll be—“

“Hush, Shigeru, I won’t let you drive back when it’s already so late! Tomorrow’s Sunday anyway, you don’t have class!”

And that, was how Fukurodani ended up at Shigeru’s grandparents for the night. With the addition of Kyoutani, who was dragged along by his Pap.

“Obaa-chan, is it ready? Is it ready?” Bokuto was hovering at the edge of the kitchen while his grandmother peeked into the oven. In the rather spacious living room, Fukurodani was perched on chairs and couches, poking at Yahaba and questioning him why he never told them his grandfather was the Yahaba Shichiro? And his uncle was the Yahaba Shin’ichi?

Yahaba swatted away Konoha’s hand, scowling at him. “I suppose I just kinda assumed you all knew, since, ya know, it’s my name?”

“Dinner’s ready~!” Bokuto was already in the kitchen, pulling out plates and silverware, Akaashi stepping in to assist. “Oh! Why, thank you, boys! Hiro! Dinner!” His pap was back in the office with their Coach, leaving the front room to the team.

There was only a minor stampede as the absolute feast was placed on the table, but with both Akaashi and Yahaba directing, it went smoothly enough. The anomaly was Kyoutani, who’d hardly said a word and answered quietly when directly spoken to.

Yahaba was sitting right next to him.

“Well, feel free to dig in~!” His grandma beamed at them all, obviously pleased to have such loudness in her home again. And as their Coach and Yahaba’s grandfather slipped in, Yahaba wondered if Bokuto was going to petition for more matches up in Miyagi.

God he hoped not.

“You looked into Aoba Johsai?” Yahaba blinked, starting at the voice suddenly on his right, blinking over at Kyoutani eyeing him.

“Yeah. I lived up here before the transfer. Made sense to look into Tokyo schools.”

“You could have always stayed with us,” his pap groused from a few seats down. Yahaba smiled warmly, letting his brow twitch.

“And leave Mama alone with the boys, by herself? Pappy, for shame.” His pap huffed and Bokuto looked over at him in a panic.

“You might not’ve come here, Yahaba?!” The brunet shrugged. “But, we’re team!”

“I wouldn’t have gone to a Tokyo school if I stayed up here, Bokuto,” Yahaba reasons easily. “We would’ve only met at Nationals.” Bokuto looks even more stricken, if that’s possible. “Obviously.”

“But-but-but—“ he blinks a couple times before his eyes narrow on Kyoutani, who looks back, equally as fierce. “You!” he points, but Akaashi raises his own arm to push it down. Bokuto continues frowning. “Are you trying to steal out setter?! I won’t let you!”

Yahaba sighs. “Bokuto, I go to Fukurodani. Why would I transfer to Seijoh?” he questions his Captain’s brilliant logic boredly.

“I saw the way you were looking at him!” the Ace is insistent. “How long have you known each other?! When were you gonna tell us you were leaving for your boyfriend?!”

Kyoutani spits out his water, staring back at Bokuto while Yahaba can only shake his head.

Meanwhile, the only ones low-key panicking are Kyoutani and his grandparents, the rest of the team continues with their own conversations, keeping an ear open for the latest developments the captain’s brilliant observation skills dig up.     

“You’re right, I was going to tell you after the season ended, Bokuto,” Yahaba props his chin in his hand, smiling faintly when Kyoutani looks back at him in horror and his grandparents are near ready to start planning a wedding.

“Yahaabaa! How could you leave us?!”

“Mmm, well, he’s cute, isn’t he?”

“Yahaba! Focus!” Yahaba rolls his eyes. He looks over at Kyoutani, who’s red at this point, staring at him with a slack jaw.

“Honestly… Bokuto, how many times do you have to accuse me of trying to run off? First it was Kuroo, then Yaku-san, Ogano-san, Sugawara-san, and now Kyoutani? Do you think just because I talk to someone I’m gonna go running off into the sunset with them?”

“Are you!?” Bokuto starts rubbing harshly at his head, the gelled up strands beginning to lose against gravity.

“Yep. Totally,” Yahaba breathes, watching the show fondly. “Of-course not. I just met him today. And I was watching him,” Bokuto pauses in the assault on his hair to blink at him (Kyoutani flushes a darker red), “because I was trying to figure out how to deal with him. Don’t you remember? Me and Akaashi dealt with strategy so you can spike freely.”

Bokuto braces a hand over his heart, looking at Akaashi with such fondness in his eyes. “Really? You do that for me?” Akaashi narrows his eyes on Yahaba, who smiles back pleasantly.

“Of-course, Bokuto-san.”

“Aww, Akaashi~!” And Yahaba’s smile grows when his Vice-Captain is pulled into a near bone-crushing hug.

“So. If you’re done being stupid, I’d like to finish dinner. That okay with you, Captain?”

“Hey! I’m just trying to watch out for you! Because you’re—“

“If you say ‘the second prettiest setter,’ I will smack you,” Yahaba threatens, having gotten that line a number of times throughout his two years there.

“Beauty’s only skin-deep,” Kyoutani spits out, eyes averted down to his plate, poking at the rice with his chop-sticks. Yahaba raises a brow, glancing over at him while a fierce look appears on Bokuto’s face, quickly letting go of Akaashi to point at Kyoutani once more.

“I knew it! You are after Yahaba! I don’t care how long you’ve been dating, you’ll never take him away from us!”

“Oh for the love of—I’m not leaving Fukurodani, get it through your thick head, you stupid owl!” On his other side, Yukie swipes some of his dinner, Kaori frowning at her in disapproval.

“Soo…” Yahaba rolls over a bit, squinting in the darkness to where Konoha is grinning at him. “You think Mad Dog’s cute, do ya?”

“I beg your—what?!” Yahaba dives for his futon, trying to smother the third-year with his pillow. He hears some snickers from around the room, no doubt they’re watching the struggle.

“You said so at dinner!” Komi pipes up from a few feet away and Yahaba glares daggers at the Libero.

“I—what—but—what?! Shut up!” There’s laughter and a snore from their Captain. “Christ, shut up! He’s asleep! Don’t you dare wake him up!” He motions frantically towards the Kyoutani cocoon close to the wall, over by Bokuto. “I will kill you, I swear I will kill you all!!”

“You can’t do that! Who’ll be the groomsmen at the wedding?” It’s Konoha and Yahaba presses down a little harder with the pillow.

“No you, that’s for sure!” the setter hisses, venom dripping from his words. “I’ll invite Nekoma and Karasuno, I’m sure they’ll be more than happy to fill in your places!”   

“Harsh, Yahaba! You’re breaking my heart!” Konoha whines.

“Keep it up and I’ll really break your arms!”

“Morning…” Yahaba yawns widely, padding into the kitchen and stopping in-front of the fridge, opening it in the hopes of orange juice.

“You were too loud last night.”

Yahaba jerks, shoulders hunching up at the voice muttering behind him. “S-sorry…” He glances over, seeing the grouchy blond. He offers a wobbly smile before turning back to the fridge, grabbing the orange juice and stepping away, pulling a glass from the cupboard. “I… hope we didn’t wake you?”

Please, please, please, if there’s a God, please, I’m begging you…

“I was already awake.”

Shit.

“Ahahaha, yeah… Sorry about that. It’s tough, dealing with idiots all the time.” He tells himself not to look at him, for the love of all that’s holy, don’t look at him, but what does he do?

He looks.

Kyoutani’s watching him, oddly… not glaring? Just… watching.

“If you had stayed here and gone to Seijoh,” Kyoutani looks away, apparently trying to pick out his words. “We would’ve played together.”

“Y-yeah, yeah we woulda.”

“Would’ve met you sooner. Since you’re a setter, we probably would’ve been practicing together too.” Yahaba sips at his juice, trying hard to figure out where he’s going with this. “You think I’m cute.” And promptly chokes on said juice. Yahaba knocks at his chest, coughing a few times before he wipes at his mouth, gazing across the kitchen at the blond.

“W-well, uh, um…” And he notices the pink on Kyoutani’s cheeks, how the spiker can’t seem to keep eye-contact. “Yeah.”

“…same.”

“I KNEW IT!! THEY’RE DATING! YAHABA’S GONNA LEAVE US!! AKAASHI!!”