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all time favorite haikyuu fics, shawty get down good lord
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2016-08-23
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2022-04-29
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19/19
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Just Try to Deny Me

Summary:

This is just where I dump all of my secret desires to jump every single haikyuu boy there is. forgive my thirst, or feel free to join this cocktail party. there are definitely some manga spoilers though, so beware.

Notes:

i've had a lot of these written up for a while. but i think i'll try posting them now. if you keep up with the manga as well, i'm posting futakuchi first because i'm excited for the upcoming practice match!!

also, i'm still new to posting on ao3 so let me get used to this format first. enjoy.

Chapter 1: Futakuchi Kenji - Joke's on You

Chapter Text

Futakuchi was a big prankster. He never took anything seriously and he was really like his humorous personality. It was always amusing for him to get some infuriated or frustrated reactions out of a teasing smile. He absolutely loved pushing people’s buttons.

Which probably explains why he chose to date his current girlfriend. She was an entire control panel of buttons, filled with reactions. She got scared easily when he surprised her, and Futakuchi’s occasional suggestive comments would ripen her face into a lovely tomato-y shade. And she would also continue on to slap him shrilly for making her feel embarrassed.

After they had started kissing casually in private, Futakuchi had slowly begun to amp up the flirty comments and sexual jokes around her. Often, his adorable girlfriend would just steam at the ears and turn to hide her red face, prompting him to give her a big bear hug from behind and gush on about how cute she was. “This is why I love to tease you so much~” he would chuckle.

Often, he would play up a lot of “accidental” happenings, like a hand on her thigh, a kiss to her neck, leaning close enough against her to rub slightly against her chest or butt. There were all sorts of teasing situations where Futakuchi just got a kick out of seeing his girlfriend fire up in the face, and he would ask, “Why are you so red?” or “What are you thinking about?” with an innocent smile or purposeful smirk on his face.

To which the puffball of emotions would just stutter back a “N-Nothing!!” or “I have to do something!” and run off to hide.

And the addition of props only sent the girl into a frenzy of possible blood loss through her nose when her boyfriend would make certain gestures with long or squishy objects in his hands, or give her some teasing looks when he bit into certain foods or made a show off licking creams and crumbs off of their faces.

But then, for some reason, one day when Futakuchi invites his lovely button-rich girlfriend over to his new apartment near his college, she’s antsier than usual. Maybe because he laid it on thick with all the sexual jokes he texted her the day before. After attempting to calm her nerves with her favorite romantic comedy movie, she seems to feel better as she suggests that they make dinner to eat together.

After scoping out his largely vacant fridge, she finds some curry packs and potatoes in the cupboards, “You want to make some curry rice?”

And then Futakuchi advances with a dark grin on his face, making her start to sweat nervously until she’s backed up against the kitchen counter, “You know… I think I’m hungry for something else.”

“W-w-wh-what?” she trips over her tongue as Futakuchi’s hand travels up her side and then slides down the length of her arm to the side of the counter. He’s gotten incredibly close to her, to the point where their noses and chests are about to touch when he retracts his arm to feel for the edge of the wooden drawer.

The girl pressed against the counter gulps audibly and her pulse grows louder in her ears as her boyfriend pulls the drawer closest to her open to pull out a small silver packet. The temperature in her face increases exponentially and her grip on the counter behind her tightens when she sees Futakuchi hold up the foil packet between his index and middle fingers.

But when she sees the innocent smile on his face, she takes a closer look at the packet and all the color that had steamed into her face drains immediately. “I thought we could make some beef noodles instead.” he continues to smile, holding the packet of beef flavored ramen powder closer to his face.

There’s silence for several moments as Futakuchi patiently anticipates his girlfriend’s probable adorable reaction that might involve stomping and whining and half-hearted smacking. But then, she comes at him with the most unexpected of responses.

She’s laughing. Loudly. Maniacally, even. She arches backward to lean her weight on her forearms that rest on the countertop behind her to cackle brokenly. Futakuchi is at a loss. Usually he’s the one laughing, not in hysterics but in amusement. He can’t seem to cough up a proper response even when his girlfriend pushes him back (rougher than usual, actually).

When his girlfriend stands up straight again, Futakuchi is comforted by the slight pink returning to her cheeks. Her embarrassment is still there, so he knows that he hasn’t broken her. But then her laughter stops and she sighs as if relieved before dropping down to her knees.

The next thing though, is even more surprising, because his sweatpants and boxers are down past his knees before he knows it. “W-wait! What are you doing?!” he jumps back automatically, surprised and a little embarrassed to be completely exposed like this without warning.

But his determined girlfriend seems to be having none of that at the moment, because she knees her way right in front of his crotch again. This time, her boyfriend is the one pressed up against the fridge without an escape route. And just as he looks around to find one, his dick is in her hand and inside her mouth.

“Whoa there!” he pushes her back by the shoulders, “What is this all of a sudden?!” he demands, although his panting doesn’t make his tone sound very convincing.

“What do you mean all of a sudden? You’ve been teasing me for weeks. Months! Since we got together!” she protests from his waistline. She still has a strong grip on his shaft that shows no intentions of releasing him. “I can’t take it anymore. I have no idea whether you’re joking or not so I guess I’m just going to have to draw the lines myself.”

“W-what? I--I’m…” It feels weird being on this side of the teasing. But she looks damn serious with her bedroom eyes that seem to tempt him from down there. And it’s getting harder to think with his hard-on that’s starting to show up.

“Do you want this for real?” she doesn’t tear her gaze away from his as she makes a long lick at the tip, “Or are you just going to keep talking about it?”

He didn’t know! Was he? It was all fun and teases at first, but this is real. Really real! Was this the right time to start? Was she completely sure about this? Was he completely sure about this? With his brain between his legs at the moment, hell yes he was sure about this, but he still had to be rational. There’s a reason he was a volleyball captain even though he was an eternal jokester.

Futakuchi’s hesitation shows for a moment and his girlfriend seems to see it flash in his eyes because her next words relieve his worries, “Because I want this. Kenji-kun…” His name almost comes out as a whine when her eyes start to cloud with lust and she gives his tip another kitten lick.

Maybe it was time to get those buttons working.

Futakuchi groans as he matches her lusty gaze and runs his fingers into her hair, “Oh baby, go for it.”

Without further ado, Futakuchi is sent into a moaning mess as he presses his back against the refrigerator door to hold himself up. His girlfriend has one half of his dick moving in her mouth while the other half is lovingly cared for by her hand. She licks around him several times, sending him into heat. His face is red and his member is hard. The swirl of her tongue around the crown of his dick is sensational, and Futakuchi’s eyes roll around their sockets. “Ohhh, yesss.” he moans.

HIs girlfriend’s eyes are focused on the task in front of her, so Futakuchi lets his head bow back and brings one hand up to clutch at his face. It’s so hard to cope with just the feeling of his sweet, innocent, emotional girlfriend so lewdly pleasuring his nether regions (wowza, she’s got his balls in her hands now), he doesn’t know if he could handle watching her do it at the same time.

But he dares to as she beckons to him with her voice, with her voice that travels through her throat directly into his nerves via shaft. “Kenji-kun…” she whines softly again, popping her mouth off of his now fully erect wood.

With much effort, Futakuchi grunts to lift his head back up to look down at his girlfriend’s big, hopeful eyes, “Look at me.” she practically pleads as she takes a hold of him in her hand again and licks a stripe up the underside of his dick, from balls to crown. And then she moves down again to start lapping at his balls with her wet tongue.

“Holy fuck,” Futakuchi trembles, gently lifting her face up by the chin with his balls still in her mouth, “Baby girl, you’re all I see.”

“Mmm.” she closes her eyes and moans a kiss into the hilt of his shaft, sending Futakuchi keeling again, tripping over his moans.

Eventually, feeling kind of weak due to this being his first blow job, Futakuchi’s legs are sapped of their strength and soon he’s slid down to sit on the floor. But that doesn’t stop his ambitious girlfriend who seems to follow his dick wherever it goes.

Futakuchi is sitting with his back against the fridge and his girlfriend is now leaning on top of him between his legs, her forearms supporting her weight on the floor outside of his thighs while her head is bent down to continue sucking him off. The boy being pleasured can’t move his eyes away from the gorgeous sight of his girlfriend’s body lying between his legs on the floor, doing all she can to swallow his dick whole.

Maybe it’s better down here, because it’s harder to thrust up into her mouth without room to move in the corner he’s been backed into. He runs his hands down her back and moves them to her front to slide his hands back up. Once his palms are met with a little more bounciness, he squeezes the soft mounds through her clothes.

He’s met with a favorable response that sends a moan flying from his girlfriend’s throat deep into his groin again, “Oooh, baby, yes. Do me just like that.” he whispers as she starts to bob her head up and down on his dick. He returns the favor with lots of breast groping and kisses to the crown of her head.

Futakuchi comes quickly enough. What with all the stimulation, it was bound to happen. What his girlfriend doesn’t want to swallow dribbles down her mouth when she lifts her head up. She wipes it away with the back of her arm and gulps harshly, gasping for air.

Without notice, Futakuchi grabs her by the face and kisses her. The sight of her red face, disheveled hair, and especially swollen lips were enough to make him hard all over again. She was so beautiful and so lovely, and is she really the same girl he’s been dating for the past several months?

They kiss for a long time, sending throaty moans back and forth into each other’s mouths before Futakuchi decidedly leans her back down onto the kitchen floor. When he pulls up for air, he has her arms locked on either side of her head, and his legs rest on either side of her hips. When she gives her boyfriend a questioning look, Futakuchi simply smirks back, “We’re not done yet. It’s your turn.”

“O-on the floor??” Oop, there she is. “That’s so dirty!!” she hides her reddening face behind her hands. Or she tries to, since she can only reach her arms around Futakuchi’s around her head to try and cover a portion of her face. When he begins to kiss her neck, she starts moaning, “Kenji-kun, nooo~”

“Yes.” he replies simply as he silences her protests with a deep kiss. Except this time, her innocent fire has returned to her. She’s shouting at him with her red face, calling him immature names, and flailing around beneath him.

“Mm, now if you do that,” Futakuchi presses his reawakened arousal against hers, “Who knows how big it’ll get?” he smiles teasingly down at her.

“B-b-b-big??” she stutters as her boyfriend kicks his pants and boxers off to one side and pulls her panties down to kick them off her ankles with his foot between her legs. The skirt can stay.

First letting her get the feel of the heat between their two pelvises, Futakuchi starts kissing her again. Her moans are whiny but her kisses are fierce, her own special way of protesting. In the meantime, he slides his hands up her shirt, letting his wrists push the fabric up until her bra and shirt are bundled up above her chest.

“Mm, beautiful.” his comment makes her blush travel to her chest as he licks around one nipple. He gives them each reasonable attention until he notices his girlfriend’s legs and hips begin to tremble beneath him. So he goes directly into prepping, sliding one long, calloused digit inside of her hot, wet, core.

As he wiggles his fingers around and adds more of them inside, the direct contact becomes a bit overwhelming on top of all the attention shown to her nipples. She’s forgone the insults in favor of squealish moans and pleasurable mewls. “Kenji-kuuun. Nooooo. Mmmmm.”

“Do you like calling my name that much?” Futakuchi lifts his head to teasingly smile at her again. “You made me feel so good. Now I want to make you feel good.” he says heavily as he scoots up to breath against her face, letting their hips rut together, pushing his fingers along with him.

“Ah! Kenji-kun!!” she wails, crashing her head to the side of the floor, “You’re rubbing me!! Into the floor!! Ahh!”

“Is that what you’re concerned about?” he smirks, letting their noses touch but keeping his lips just out of her reach. He does the same down south, removing his fingers to let the length of his shaft rub against the line of her slick, wet slit but dodging her when she tries to bring him inside. “Then you don’t want this?” he brings his hips up to embarrassingly slap his length against her now widespread legs.

“Ahhh!!” she squeals, thrashing her head back and forth in embarrassment because Futakuchi has now gotten a hold of her hands and pinned them beside her head. “Kenji-kun!!”

“Your wish is my command, princess.” he nuzzles his nose against hers for a brief moment, “Tell me your wish.”

“I-I--” she blushes furiously. At this point she had no idea how she still had body heat that hasn’t traveled up to her head, “Kenji-kuuunn.” she cries, “Fuck me…”

“Atta girl.” he smirks, aiming himself right at her entrance and slipping inside quite easily. She was well prepared and accepted him inside readily with her arousal. He pulls himself in and out as she continues to scream in embarrassment and moan in pleasure simultaneously. As aroused as he is, he can’t help chuckling at how she’s still embarrassed, even after being connected to him to this point.

“Why don’t you tell me how you like it, baby? You like it slow?” he continues to pull in and out, gently aiming himself again and again, “Or do you want it a little rough? Hm?” this time he pounds into her… well… roughly… making her bounce up a couple of inches on the floor.

His bold teasing actions and his smug face send her screaming all over again, “Ahh!!! Shut up! Shut up!! You’re stupid, stupid, stupid!!!”

“Mhm, what else am I?” he asks each question with a complimentary thrust, “Sexy? Undeniable? Unbelievably handsome?”

“Unbelievably stupid!” she whines desperately, still trying to reach her lips up to his.

“Well if you think that, then maybe I should stop.” he slowly pulls out and doesn’t make a move to reenter her.

“Don’t stop.” she whines even more desperately.

“Say you love me.” he teases.

“I fuckin’ hate your guts.” she shrieks, “And your dick. And your big hands. Ahhh--!!” She’s interrupted when one of the acclaimed big hands travels down to squeeze her breast. “Kenji-kuuun!!” she’s practically crying as she aimlessly thrusts up into his pelvis, unable to find his dick and bring it back to where she wants it to be.

But with one arm now free, she makes a grab for the back of his head and pushes him down to kiss her again. Her fingers weave tightly into her boyfriend’s soft sandy hand and eagerly accepts his shaft’s reentry.

They thrust and kiss and grope and moan for several more minutes, even after they’ve come inside of each other and cried out their orgasms. Futakuchi keeps his girlfriend’s adorable whines at bay with his lips and continues thrusting until they both lose strength in their legs.

They rest inside of each other for another few moments, still kissing on the floor. Neither is worried about the cum dripping down their thighs since Futakuchi now knows how eager his girlfriend was to have sex. He can easily identify the bottled item that she had hidden from his sight when he visited her room the other day.

After they finish kissing, they continue to lie on the kitchen floor in each other’s arms until Futakuchi gathers up enough strength to lift his head to look his girlfriend in the face, “Say you love me.” he requests again with his usual teasing smile.

The preciously adorable girl beneath him looks away with a stubborn furrow in her eyebrows before mumbling an indistinctive, “I love you…”

Her beloved boyfriend gives her a playful grope on the breast before leaning down to kiss her nose, “I know. And I love you.” he smiles. Sincerely this time.

Chapter 2: Yaku Morisuke - Take Care

Summary:

you're kuroo's little sister and you have a huge crush on yaku morisuke

Notes:

i am incredibly sorry. this is like... 10% smut. i got carried away by this plot bunny. or should i say plot racehorse. forgive me.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

It goes without saying, you’re a very open person. You don’t have many secrets, you’re brutally honest, and very casual about how you do things. It makes you quite popular at Nekoma high school, in addition to the fact that your hot older brother is the captain of the boys volleyball club and you are a bit of a vision yourself, being a dancer and all. You often let your body do as much speaking as your words. You wouldn’t say that you act differently at school and home. Maybe you bicker a little more with your brother behind closed doors, but other than that, you don’t have much to be shy about.

Or that’s usually the case. But ever since his second year in high school, Tetsurou’s been bringing his friends over more and more without warning. Now, you’re not really one to hide your true self just because there are some boys around. But… there are some standards as to what is socially appropriate for guests who enter your house.

They probably don’t include you walking into the kitchen in only your sports bra and really short shorts as you loudly belt the lion king opening theme at the top of your lungs. You don’t notice the handful of boys in the living room staring at you until you close the refrigerator door after grabbing your fruit smoothie, “AHH!! ONII-CHAN!!” you shriek, almost dropping your smoothie as you scramble to grab the nearest volleyball jacket hanging on the chair at the dining table to throw around your shoulders. You rip the earphones out of your ears before scolding him, “You should freaking say something if you’re bringing people home!”

“Uhm… I do recall having announced my return.” Tetsurou says calmly, watching you squirm underneath the jacket you took while still trying to hold your smoothie.

“You should have waited for me to reply! Ugh!” you grumble, turning on your heel to head back towards your room, mumbling about how no one ever tells you when there are people over.

That was in your final year of middle school, and possibly the final year in which you had no secrets to hide. Because once you entered Nekoma high school, you had to be more cautious about who you blurted to about your crush on your brother’s friend. The slightest slip could make things incredibly awkward for their last year in high school. So your secret attraction to Yaku Morisuke must stay just that; secret.

 

Actually, it had started a long while back. It had been your first year of middle school during the sports meet with other middle schools, your school had been crushed by another volleyball team. At the time, you thought it was super cool how their players were so good to the point where such good players at your own school could be pushed to such corners (your classmates of course, were not as thrilled).

But come Tetsurou’s first year in high school, he constantly complains about this guy he met in the volleyball club, who happened to be from the school that had crushed yours last year. So without even asking, you learned all about this Yaku Morisuke character, who’s apparently an annoying little short guy who doesn’t appreciate fish and everything that your brother does. At first, it was pretty funny to see your big brother so riled up and you sort of admired the idea of Yaku through Tetsurou’s stories, because being able to annoying your brother was not a skill that you possessed. He always managed to brush you off and one-up you in arguments all the time.

But eventually, the complaints stop, and you find out that Tetsurou and Yaku have the same goal to make it to nationals. And soon, he’s getting along pretty well with his team. You can see from some of the games that you attend how well they actually work together. It’s clear that they all rely on and trust each other to get the job done. The trust between them is incredible.

Also, Yaku Morisuke is super cute. He and Kai introduced themselves to you before one of Nekoma’s volleyball games, and you were immediately struck with how kind the two were. But the competitive edge that Yaku had was what left a mark in your heart. During that game, Yaku managed to catch every serve, no matter how powerful it was, as well as a good majority of the spikes. That glint in his eye when he saw his competitors’ frustrated faces was golden.

As you started seeing him more often at your house, he became like another bigger brother to you. Hell, he took care of you better than your actual brother did a lot of the time, always asking if you wanted a snack or help with homework or chores or whatever it was.

And of course, he caught you at a lot of weird moments, like when you were fresh out of the shower on the one day you forgot to bring your clothes with you to the bathroom, or when your shirt fell down while you were doing a handstand, or when you were reciting some really, really awkward lines for a project, or when you were practicing literally the most uncouth parts of one of your dances. The list goes on, and continues to grow to this day.

So you would think that at this point, since Yaku (and a couple of Tetsurou’s other friends) has seen you at your most candid, that you would have given up being embarrassed by now. And in most cases, you would have. But there’s just something about his nervous chuckle or his averted eyes that gives you just a little hope that he might not just see you as Tetsurou’s little sister. And that hope makes your heart race and your face flush and your sense of embarrassment come alive.

That day that you had made a musical entrance in practically only undergarments and stolen a volleyball jacket, you caught a whiff of something lovely. The red Nekoma jacket smelled freshly cleaned, with a spring scent that made you feel warm. After you entered your room, you took off the jacket only to bring it up to your face and take a deeper whiff of it. It was lovely, and you wanted to hug it to you like a teddy bear for the rest of your life.

Even before checking underneath the tag where there were small initials written in faded permanent marker, you knew that it belonged to Yaku. It was just a gut feeling. Fate, perhaps. Out of all the jackets that happened to be lying around, the one you grabbed belonged to the biggest crush of your life.

Before long, you decided to do away with the jacket before you really got attached to it. You just hung it outside of your room on the doorknob, so that Yaku could come get it without asking you any questions. And you could get away with not seeing anyone’s face after yet another embarrassing encounter.

 

#

 

Your heart does so many things on the day of the volleyball semifinals for Tokyo. Of course, you’re in the stands with the many other Nekoma supporters and you’re standing beside Yamamoto Akane -- makeshift cheerleading captain, volleyball enthusiast, and little sister extraordinaire. And on Akane’s other side is Haiba Alisa, spreading some sort of positive energy into the atmosphere with her gorgeousness.

The first thing your heart does is drop, when you see the look of pure delight as Yaku eyes Alisa from the gym floor. Then your heart rate picks up again when Yaku smiles and waves at you gently. You barely manage to return the wave before he turns back to continue his warmups. And throughout the two matches against Fukurodani and Nohebi, you go through so many motions that you feel like your heart might as well just pop out of your chest from all the flopping it’s doing.

Actually, you think that you hear it crack a little when you see the anguish on Yaku’s face when he’s pulled aside to have his ankle taken care of. That long receive was incredible, but you only wish that it didn’t have to end up this way. You know that he would never regret having saved that point for Nekoma, but there’s a lot of philosophical debate going on in your head about whether it was really worth it.

In the end, Nekoma take care of business and they manage to score a place in nationals. Relief, excitement, pride, happiness, all sorts of emotions swell through you as you clutch the other two girls’ hands and jump up and down at your brothers’ victory.

When you all go downstairs to meet them, you’re really tempted to run up to Yaku first, but obviously you have to keep up the front that you’re mainly here because of your brother. “Onii-chan!!!” you and Akane shout in sync as you all run up to the boys leaving the gym, alongside Alisa who shouts, “Lyovochka~!!”

Tetsurou only manages to turn his head before you’re jumping on his back and throwing an arm around his neck to hold onto him while you ruffle his already messy hair with your free hand, “Oya, oya!! Have you always been this cool?” you laugh loudly as he tries to tear your limbs away from his neck.

After you drop back down to the floor, he turns to face you and gives you his usual smirk, “Oya? You mean you didn’t know?”

You punch him in the chest in retaliation, and then converse with the other team members for a bit before they have to gather up again to bring all their supplies back. Before that, you catch the injured libero as he’s being mounted along his teammates’ shoulders, “Yaku-san, are you going to be okay?”

“This? This is nothing. I’ll be up and running for nationals in no time.” he smiles reassuringly.

“Okay, that’s good. Get well soon.” is all you can say before he’s being dragged off with the rest of the team.

 

That was probably one of the last times that you got to directly speak to him in a while. After the semifinals, the volleyball club kept their members busy with practice and then the tournaments came up. And before you knew it, the Nekoma third years were graduating. Even more quickly, you were working your way up to graduation yourself.

But your days pining after Yaku Morisuke were far from over. You tried to best to give other boys a try, since you did receive the occasional confession from time to time. But your efforts were shattered whenever Kuroo brought Yaku over to hang out on some weekends, since they both went to university in the city.

Those awkward coincidental moments continued to happen whenever you let your guard down, but you were older now. Since the third years left Nekoma High, you had slowly dropped most of your inhibitions. You stopped flushing as much whenever you were caught in what looked like a compromising position, you got more confident in your abilities and personality, and you even managed to start openly flirting with Yaku in those seldom opportunities he dropped by the Kuroo household.

Since you were getting better at this, you eventually came to a decision. At some point, before you graduated high school, you would confess your feelings to Yaku. You’re still don’t know how you’re going to go about it, but you figured that once the time came, you would know it. So with the time pressure you’ve set for yourself, it would happen at some point before you left Nekoma for good.

 

#

 

It wasn’t hard to tell that you liked him. Yaku knew that you had a small crush on him. Or maybe even a big one, but he didn’t want to go too ahead of himself. At first, he had believed you acted slightly more nervous than you usually did because he often had the most awkward timing and caught you off guard. Anyone would be taken by surprise. But after finding more correlations between your behaviors towards others and then towards him, it wasn’t hard to put two and two together.

Admittedly, you were quite a cutie. A pretty face with a wild personality, unafraid to meet and interact with new people, and although he preferred short hair on girls, your long dark locks that smoothly ran down to your mid-back framed your petite body as perfectly as it provided a sexy image when you swung it around during a dance. Its sleek beauty was quite a contrast to the bird’s nest your brother often sported. And to his guilty delight, your build was quite different from your brother’s as well. While the Nekoma volleyball captain was tall and broad, you were small enough for Yaku to be just slightly above your eye level.

Not to mention, you were super funny and usually full of energy. With the way you were always dancing and singing, waltzing around the house and even school without a care in the world, the quirky side of you made you especially endearing. Since you and Tetsurou got along pretty well, you easily joined in on their conversations and became a familiar face among the Nekoma volleyball club, even before you started attending the school as a student.

But despite acknowledging your undeniable charms, there was something about you that was just so… forbidden. Maybe it’s because you were Tetsurou’s younger sister, and he couldn’t really imagine how strained their friendship might become if he suddenly started dating you. Sure, he openly gawked at Lev’s sister before but you were jailbait now. It felt so taboo. He treated you like his own little sister, but the way he ran his eyes over your maturing body sometimes was anything but brotherly. And after catching himself, Yaku would often feel an impending guilt growing in his chest when he thought of his teammate.

After Nekoma had gotten into nationals, there wasn’t really time to focus on things outside of school and volleyball. But after he graduated, it was hard to ignore the assertiveness you seemed to be gaining as you went further into high school. You got less and less shocked and nervous on his occasional visits to your house (which he often looked forward to as a break from university life), and now, in your third year of high school, you had become something of a young woman.

It didn’t get past him how you held yourself more confidently (and you were already plenty confident before), how you were taking on more responsible tasks in helping your family with complicated errands, and of course, how well your body seemed to fill out. It created an even bigger contrast between you and Tetsurou. While he was all solid lines and taut muscles, you had lots of soft curves and plush looking skin -- although it was clear how well dance club activities kept you in tip-top shape.

He tried not to stare at you for too long, should somebody notice his lingering gazes, but there was another accidental happening that got him fixated on something for longer than he should ever think about it.

Tetsurou had been trying to get him to try a new type of fish -- he never really did drop the Docosahexaenoic acid thing -- and it hadn’t ended well for him. Yaku had complained so much that they ended up rushing to the Kuroo house, where the libero had barged in, and almost soiled himself when he came face-to-face with you in all your pants-less glory. You were freshly showered and clad in a pair of (lace-trimmed) black panties, a loose midriff top, glasses on your nose, and a toothbrush in your mouth.

The two of you had stared at each other for a moment before you lifted your toothbrush-free hand in greeting, “Osu.” you mumble through the toothpaste foam and brush bristles in your mouth.

“O-Osu.” he greets you back quickly, doing everything in his power to keep his gaze from slipping down to your beautiful, perky, voluptuous butt.

“Did you need the bathroom? I can leave.” You started stepping out of the bathroom towards Yaku. Now he could see the pretty black triangle covering the mystery between your legs.

“No, no! It’s fine, I’ll just--” his stomach interrupts his argument with a gurgle and he fumbles past you into the bathroom after all, clutching his stomach as if it’ll quell it somehow. “Thanks.” he grunts before shutting the door.

As wrong as it is, Yaku can’t seem to get that image of that beautiful round curve of your lower body out of his head, even after he leaves the bathroom and you’re wearing shorts to cover your suggestive underwear. He has to hold himself back, despite how he knows it's perfectly appropriate for a healthy young man and woman to feel attraction towards each other. After all, you're still Kuroo [Name], and he only knows you because of you're his friend’s little sister.

But who is he kidding? He won't be able to hold himself back at some point if you keep smiling like that at him. He decides that he'll wait at least until you've graduated, maybe after you've started university, to start reciprocating your pursuits.

 

#

 

The Nekoma volleyball club alumni are pulled into an impossible situation. An old manager of the Nekoma volleyball club is getting married and she’s throwing a sort of gala for her wedding banquet. And there would be a traditional waltz for all of the guests to participate in. “I won’t take no for an answer, got it?” Their old manager and friend had reiterated when she had invited the boys. So now, several of the boys were at a loss because they used their bodies to chase after flying balls, not follow choreographed routines.

But despite how the solution was clearly obvious, the boys didn’t realize it until Lev pointed it out (through a mouth full of rice and tuna, nonetheless) during a visit to the school, “Why don’t you just ask [Name]-san? She’s a dancer. She could probably teach you all.”

So after much thought and begging, especially on Tetsurou’s side, he, Yaku, and Kai are in the Kuroo living room one Saturday evening with classical music playing on the stereo and you trying your best to deal with getting stepped on. “Onii-chan, I’m not a volleyball! Stop trying to push me forward like you’re trying to block me.” you bring your brother’s massive arms and elbows into a lower position.

“My bad.” he holds back from making a joking comment, because he does need to learn this.

“Okay, let go. Let’s start again from the transition.” He follows your directions and releases you so you can twirl around as if changing dance partners, which is what will happen at this Yule Ball of a wedding. He’s managed to memorize the steps to take, but it’s still incredibly stiff. He’s got a long way to go if he’s planning to do this in a suit with girls in flowy dresses.

Thankfully, you’re all barefoot, so there’s no big damage done to your feet. But who would have thought that your calm and powerful big brother could be so clumsy? It goes to show that everyone has different strengths. Although he was very good at taking the lead, what with his captain personality.

“Why don’t you take a break? It’s a good start.” you suggest when he seems to have the general rhythm down. It won’t be long before he can do it well with strangers. “Kai-san, you’re next. Come here.”

The gentle vice-captain catches on more quickly, but there’s a shyness that keeps you apart. It feels more like a business transaction than a dance, which is understandable because none of these boys had ever planned to dance in their lives. And after about twenty minutes practicing with him, it’s time for the one you’ve been saving for last in anticipation. “Yaku-san.” you hold your hands behind your back and beckon him towards you, directing him to ask you to dance.

After you adjust his hands on your body, you teach him the transition to get into the starting position. He gets it down pretty quickly, and even more impressive, he doesn’t step on you. Perhaps it’s because he’s been watching you teach the other two for a while already, so he knows what he has to do. He just has to put it into practice with his own body. There’s just one problem…

“Yaku-san, I know you’re a libero and all, but you need to take the lead.” you announce bluntly. The boys sitting on the couch laugh, and Yaku chuckles good-naturedly as well.

“Okay.” he smiles gently, looking into your eyes.

You may look calm with your professional demeanor, but you’re glad that this is a waltz, because Yaku won’t be able to feel your heart thundering underneath your chest. You’ve never been this close to him. You’ve never even held his hand, and now you can feel his rough callouses in your palm and the warm weight on your waist. Just a little bit closer and you could…

“[Name]-chan?” Yaku calls to you.

“Huh?” you break out of your clouded bubble of thoughts. It’s only when you bring your head back that you realize you had been leaning closer. Shit.

“Are you okay? You kind of drifted off there for a moment.” he chuckles.

Blinking, you try to laugh it off, “Then you’re a natural. If you can lead me while I’m not even paying attention, then I don’t think you have too much to worry about.” Pulling away before you get carried away again, you dismiss everyone, “I think that’s enough for today. We can practice more next time. Good job today.”

“Thanks for the hard work.” they say to you as you make your way upstairs for a shower. You might need to make it a cold one with how hot you feel right now, fresh from Yaku’s touch.

 

Yaku was getting a cold sweat. His fingertips were tingling from holding onto your body and his mind fuzzy from inhaling your light perfume. It was a fresh scent, so you must have sprayed it on just before you had come downstairs to teach them. It was the same scent that he had found lingering on his volleyball club jacket a couple years ago when you had stolen it to cover up your body from the boys in your living room. It’s been a long time coming, but he clearly recognizes it. He almost wants to follow you upstairs to drown himself in the different smells of you wafting in your bedroom.

You had been so close to him just minutes ago. You had almost kissed him! He was 90% sure of that. The only reason he had interrupted you was because of the spectators in the room. That would have been awkward to explain, especially if he ended up kissing you back.

What was he thinking?? Kissing you back?? There was no guarantee that you were going to kiss him first. You were probably just getting caught up in the moment, like most dancers probably do. But… he did have an instinctual feeling that he was right. You would have kissed him if he didn’t stop you.

What if this happened again? Would he be able to stop you in time? He had almost forgotten his position when he saw your pupils dilate right before his eyes. His body was trembling right now, in need of your touch, your smell, the feel of your skin underneath his. Yaku had thought he almost caught on fire when the hem of your tank top lifted just a bit to let his hand come into contact with a sliver of your skin. And even now, the sound of the shower running upstairs makes images of your naked body to appear in his head.

The wedding isn’t until next month… There’s no way that something’s not going to transpire during these dance lessons until then. What he was afraid of now was… how much he was anticipating it. He was sure something was going to happen, and he couldn’t wait for it. He had told himself that he would wait until you graduated high school to let something happen, but…

“You okay, dude?” Tetsurou hands Yaku a cup of tea that he had been brewing in the kitchen.

“Oh, yeah. Thanks.” he accepts the tea, “But this is fun. I’m looking forward to the wedding.”

The two agree that the dancing isn’t as bad as they thought it was, and Yaku lets himself get swallowed into the conversation to avoid his thoughts drifting to the sound of the shower splashing onto your naked body upstairs.

 

“Eh? Yaku-san? It’s just you today?” You’re surprised to see Yaku by himself when you open the door.

“Yeah, Kai has classes late into the evening on Thursdays.” he says as he lets himself in, taking off his shoes. “Your brother’s not home yet either, huh?”

“He said he’d be at his part time job until late tonight. And my mom is off taking care of Kenma’s grandmother next door.” you affirm.

“Oh.” Yaku utters. This was pointing in all sorts of directions. You’re pretty sure Yaku felt it too. You two would be alone in the house, with your bodies close together for a dance lesson. “Well… I’ll be in your care, then.” he acts as if he’s unaffected by this inevitable opportunity.

“Right.” You breathe, adjusting your clothes and hair before following him into the living room.

Surprisingly, the two of your manage to keep the lesson on track for an hour. It’s been a couple weeks since the first lesson, so Yaku has gotten pretty good with moving his body to lead yours. You had begun wearing a flowy skirt to give the boys an idea of the distance they’re supposed to keep from the girls when they waltz, and Yaku has it down to a T.

But the triggering moment you’ve been waiting for happens when he dips you a little too far and has to move his hands to catch your weight in order not to drop you. You feel frozen in time when he has a strong hand on your back, and another clutching onto your butt not very lightly. Your arms had swung around his neck to prevent your fall as well, and now your faces are just centimeters apart.

Neither of you say a thing, both afraid to shatter the incredible tension in the air. The only sound around you is the classical music playing in the background. Slowly, ever so slowly, Yaku begins lifting you up into a proper standing position and reluctantly releases his grip on your soft ass, blushing profusely.

As he starts babbling his apologies, you figure it’s now or never. So using your arms which are still wrapped around his neck, you pull him closer to you and bring his lips to yours. And there. It’s happened. You knew it would. Yaku knew it would. And although it takes a little coaxing, the boy in your arms finally closes his eyes and replaces his hands on your waist as he starts kissing you back.

 

God, this feels so good. Had he known it would feel this good, he’d have accepted your subtle advances long ago. Your lips are warm and soft, more so than he imagined (and he’s done enough of that). Every inch of his body is screaming from the currents of electricity your body heat sends through him. Although Yaku hasn’t done much dating, the small things he’s had going on for him felt nothing like this. He supposes it’s heightened by his want for you that’s been growing for several years.

The libero feels the sparks flying up from his neck into his head, but then he realizes that you’ve run your hand up from his neck into his hair, pushing him even closer to you. He does his best to oblige to your actions and reciprocate. Maybe seconds, or minutes, or hours later, he doesn’t really know, he builds up the nerve to move his own hands. His limbs don’t feel like his own as he melds his fingers and palm against the curve of your ass. Even through the fabric of the skirt, he moans at the feelings of the plush flesh in his hands.

You giggle as pull your lips away from his, “So it wasn’t my imagination when I felt someone staring at my butt.” You slide your finger down his jaw, liking the feel of his face in your hands.

“This is so much better than staring.” he groans, giving it a squeeze. Your pleasant hum resounds in his in ears and he’d like to hear that every hour of the day.

 

Your lips come together again like they’re magnetized to each other, and it’s a while before either of you come up for air again. You had so many things to say and ask, but right now, you want nothing more than to just continue feeling Yaku’s lips on every inch of you. His tongue had long found his way inside your mouth and you feel like he’s licked at every crevice of it in the past five minutes. When he finally lets his lips roam down your jaw and to your neck, you’re just clutching him closer to you, willing for this to never end.

He relishes in your little shiver when his teeth graze along your pulse, and his cock twitches in his pants when you gasp out in surprise, “Yaku-san!” when he bites down. It’s not a hard bite, but with the heightened tension between your bodies, you just might melt into his arms. There’s already a puddle threatening to form and spill underneath your skirt.

“Ugh, you smell so good.” he groans in a deep octave you’ve never heard come out of his mouth before. Your legs tremble at the deep resonance it sends into your own throat.

As he moves right to the center of your collarbones to show you just how good he can be with his mouth, you clutch onto his shoulders and drop your head back as if you’re being dipped again, muttering his name into the ceiling like a soft prayer, “Oh Yaku-san, I wanna sit on your face so bad.” You don’t even realize you say it out loud because you’re preoccupied with trying to keep your legs standing upright.

But you can’t ignore the bare emptiness you feel when Yaku lifts his head off of your neck to stare down at you intensely. “Let me.”

“What?” you blink in a daze, voice weak.

He captures your lips in another deep kiss and pulls your bottom lip with him between his teeth when he pulls away, letting it snap back against your teeth before he whispers in the huskiest that you’ve ever heard, “I want to taste you.”

You almost faint. But you are determined to experience an orgasm that Yaku wrings out of you until you’re writhing, so with whatever power you have left in your body, you trip and drag Yaku upstairs to your bedroom.

When you close the door behind you, Yaku doesn’t have time to take everything in because you’re pushing him onto your bed and straddling his hips before kissing him again. You don’t know if you’ll ever be able to get enough of it. In the back of your mind, you’re somewhat worried that Yaku might not accept you after this and it’ll only be a one time thing.

Your worries seem to leak out into your actions, because your kisses start becoming more hurried and desperate as you push yourself harder against Yaku’s body, needing to feel him as much as you can. You’re blatantly ignoring the logical part of your brain that tells you that Yaku wouldn’t even be doing this with you if he didn’t want you too. He’s not the type to lead people on. But still, you kiss him like you’re going to lose him any minute.

Always the perceptive one, Yaku pushes you away and looks at you with those concerned, motherly eyes of his. You’re reminded of how caring he’s always been towards you, and fear and doubt swallows your eyes as you wonder if he only sees you as a little sister after all. But he brushes his gentle fingers along your cheek, cooing to you, “Hey, what’s wrong?”

His gaze is so warm. He’s so full of love and you realize now that your feelings for him have gone far past the little crush you started with. “I… I…” He patiently strokes your face and tucks your hair behind your ear. But on the inside, he’s just as scared as you are.

Now or never!!! You internally yell at yourself. “I really like you.” you pant, suddenly short of breath.

To your surprise, he breaks the glass-like atmosphere with his heart-stopping smile. “I figured as much.” he chuckles. But when your eyes don’t seem to relax, he reassures you, “I really like you too.”

“But…” you trail off, wondering if he’s going to add anything about you being his best friend’s little sister, or you being too young, or something or other.

He seems to see through your worries, so he brings you down to gently kiss you until the tension leaves your body, “But nothing. I’m not going anywhere.” he smiles. Finally, you breathe a sigh of relief and smile back, leaning down for yet another kiss. “Now sit on my face.” he all but orders.

Your heart somersaults and you bite your lip to hide your excitement before you nod, lifting yourself up and rolling onto your back. You pull the light blue panties down your thighs, flinching at how damp they are, and throw them down onto the floor.

 

Yaku licks his lips at the sight of your legs up in the air, with no barrier to that beautiful triangle between your legs. When the cute panties land on the floor and you sit back up, he beckons you over with a flick of his fingers. You look so cute with your lip between your teeth, crawling up to him until you’re straddling his neck, your legs spread out on the either side of the pillow that Yaku’s head rests on.

You shyly lift your skirt up and what’s underneath is heaven if Yaku has ever seen it. The smell is enough to knock him out on the pheromones alone, and he’s never seen such a beautiful shade of pink. Without hesitation, he brings his hands up to grab at your ass underneath the skirt and push your dripping wet cunt onto his mouth.

The first taste is like a sip of beer; flooring and just what he needs in his system. He lays his tongue out flat on your lips to catch at all the dripping fluids coming out of your pussy and he can feel you trembling. And when he sucks, you slam your hands onto the edge of your desk, trying to stay conscious. “Ah! Yaku-san.” you whine at the hot, wet muscle protruding into your slit and reaching just past your inner lips to touch a bundle of nerves inside you.

Yaku is utterly helpless to the taste of you. He digs and digs with his tongue, trying to get deeper into you to taste every flavor of you. His nose bumps into your clit several times and your juices are dripping down his chin. He can only faintly see anything underneath the tent of your skirt, but he doesn’t need to be able to see to know that you’re enjoying this, if your moaning and trembling legs are a sign of anything. It is regrettable, however, that he can’t see the expression on your face. He supposes he’ll have to get by on your taste alone for now.

The way you start bouncing and rolling your pelvis into his face helps him get his tongue deeper inside of you. When he moans into your pussy, you’re a goner. Your face flushes as your entire body shivers and you come all over his mouth. You can feel him lapping it up with an carnivorous fervor and you don’t want this to end.

Too caught up in your orgasm, you don’t even hear the faint “I’m home!” from downstairs. So imagine your surprise when your door swings open as you’re riding away the last waves of your orgasms on Yaku’s mouth. “Whoa!” Tetsurou exclaims as you shout, “AH!! ONI-CHAN!!” bringing your arms around to cover your torso even though you’re still (practically) fully clothed, save for the panties on the floor.

“My bad.” he says, closing your door immediately, but you don’t miss the amused smirk on his face before it disappears behind your door.

You shriek in embarrassment, covering your face in your hands, but still clenching over Yaku’s tongue that’s still inside of you. At least his face was covered by your skirt, so maybe you had a chance of saving the guy’s identity. You had boys over all the time for either homework or dance. Surely he’d believe you if you said it was just a guy from school.

To think that you’d get caught during your very first sexual encounter. This was beyond your biggest nightmares. Your brother will never let you live this down…

Will some trouble, you crawl off of Yaku’s face on shaky legs, moaning as he keeps hold of your clits between his teeth like he did your lip earlier. It sends a shock through your body and you feel like you could go for another round right now. But your brother is downstairs, and that would be beyond awkward. Guess you’ll have to say it for another day.

Yaku notices your saddened pout and cups a hand to your face when he sits up, “Don’t worry. We can pick up on this again next time.” he seals it with a kiss. A really wet one too, since half his face is covered in your juices. “You tasted amazing, by the way.” he whispers into your ear like he’s sharing a deep secret, making you blush.

“Ugh, what am I gonna do about onii-chan?” you hide your face in your hands again. “I’ll never be able to face him again.”

The libero chuckles as he wipes his face with a tissue from your desk, and then kisses the top of your head sweetly, “I’ll go talk to him.”

When the two of you are cleaned up, Yaku tells you that you can stay inside your room, “I’ll talk to you soon, [Name]-chan.” he kisses you again, and you want to squeal in the delight at the fire running through your veins, burning at your blood and setting your body alight.

You can only nod when Yaku smiles at you. And you listen intently from the second floor hallway when Yaku makes his way downstairs to greet your brother. You can clearly hear the smirk in your brother’s voice, “Well, hey there, big guy.”

“Hey Kuroo.” Yaku greets him like it’s any other day. “So you might have heard already, but I’m dating your sister now.” he mentions as casually as if he was talking about the weather.

But what really surprises you is how your brother responds, “Yeah I figured as much. Took you two long enough.”

“What do you mean?” Yaku sounds calm, despite how you’re swimming in a sea of confusion right now. Sure, Yaku must have picked up on your crush, but you thought you had hidden it pretty well around his teammates and your brother.

“Yaku, my friend. Surely, you don’t believe that you were being subtle with the ogling at my little sister’s body all these years.” Tetsurou chuckles. You hear a slurp. Probably has a cup of tea in his hand, the bastard. “And for what possible reason would Kuroo [Name], the overconfident attention seeker, become shy?”

Attention seeker?? You were a dancer!! Just because you liked everyone watching you in your coolest image on stage didn’t mean that you were-- ...Okay, point taken.

Yaku just laughs, not surprised at how perceptive his best friend is. “Alright, you got me. But anyway, I hope I have your blessing. I’ll take good care of her.”

“Yeah, I bet. You took real good care of her a couple of minutes ago.” Another slurp. Another flush to your cheeks.

You hear some rustling and laughter, and before long, Yaku says his goodbyes to your brother and makes his way towards the door. He catches your gaze on his way out and just smiles and winks your way before heading to put his shoes on and take his leave. If you didn’t faint earlier, you might as well have now. He was so charming.

“Hey, don’t you think you should put some underwear on?”

“ONII-CHAN.”

Notes:

i have nothing to say for myself, but thank you for reading anyway. and for the kudos! leave me a comment or suggestion sometime, yeah?

Chapter 3: Nakashima Takeru - Through it All

Summary:

you've been best friends with takeru since before you were even born.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

It was all a mess. There were leftover snacks and drinks strewn all over the living room, clothes hanging off of the television and shelves, and people running amok in the house, yelling, dancing, and just being obnoxiously loud. But this wasn’t some college house party. This was the Nakashima household on a typical Saturday evening.

 

And of course, you and Takeru, the most responsible children of the two families who had gathered around for your weekly potluck dinner, ended up playing custodians in the aftermath. “Oi, Minoru, stop moving around so much. I’m taking you up to your room.” your best friend since conceivement grunts, as he struggles to carry his little brother up to his room while you tidy up the living room table.

 

Usually, things didn’t get this messy, but Takeru’s volleyball club had won a practice match against another school yesterday, so this was a small celebration. The victory itself wasn’t a big deal, but your families were both filled to the brim with energy and liked to get together at every possible opportunity. And because your parents and the Nakashima parents had practically been friends and next door neighbors since the beginning of time, you really couldn’t escape each other.

 

Not that you wanted to. Despite how much trouble arises from family interactions, you adored the Nakashima family. And you’re pretty sure they loved your family as well; parents, three kids, two dogs, and all. You were the oldest of the three, with one sister in middle school and a little brother in elementary school. They were good friends with Makoto and Minoru, respectively, despite being a year or two off in age.

 

You and Takeru were the only ones born at the same age, and you had been attending the same schools since you were born. And although you were together more often than not, your personalities still diverged to your own individual interests. So while Takeru took up volleyball, you played soccer. While Takeru likes traditional, local foods, you always enjoy western style meals. And although he inherited the leadership position as captain of his volleyball club, you chose to remain ace without the captain title of your soccer club.

 

It’s not like you two were one entity, but it was uncommon to see you two separated for too long. Obviously, you went to school and often went home together, since your club activities usually ended around the same time. You shared and switched bento boxes sometimes when you wanted to switch things up, since you both had several meals between school and practices. And you were both common visitors of each other’s classrooms for whatever small errands you had to run by each other, like returning a book or calculator or something.

 

Even now, you frequent each other’s homes and walk into each other’s rooms without precedent. It’s almost like you have two houses to live in, although it doesn’t make it any less cramped with the number of occupants in each family. But you love the relationship between your families, because you’re never afraid of being alone. And you’re reminded of that every time Mr. or Mrs. Nakashima give you a smile or an extra snack. Or whenever Takeru’s siblings come to you for help or to play. Or when they hoard both families to come cheer you on at one of your soccer games, and you return the favor to anyone else.

 

Even now, as you transfer all the used dishes and cups over to the sink where your mom and Mrs. Nakashima are washing them, or as the dads are working together to fix the leg of a chair that had collapsed when the younger kids were climbing on it, or as Takeru’s older brother, Isamu, removes all the random clothes off of the furniture, you feel nothing but warm. This house, as well as your own, holds your fondest memories. And you’re certain it’ll continue to hold more.

 

“Oh, by the way, mom, dad.” Takeru returns to the living area holding a packet of paper, “The third years are going to Okinawa for the school field trip. Here’s the itinerary.”

 

“Ehh? You’re actually going, Takeru?” you pipe up from your spot wiping down the table. “I thought that you had preliminaries at the end of the month.”

 

“We do, but this is our last chance to make some good memories with our classmates.” he smiles, “A few days away from practice will be hard on my body, but I’ll just make up for those missed hours somehow when we get back.”

 

“Good plan, Takeru. It’ll be a blast.” his father takes the papers and slaps his son’s back, “I loved the field trips. That’s where all kinds of opportunities appear. That’s where I first got your mom’s attention.” he chuckles, nudging an elbow at his second oldest son’s ribs. “Okinawa can be a magical place.”

 

Takeru laughs good-naturedly, trying to end the conversation before his parents can get into the dirty details, and you find yourself laughing too. “Okinawa… I can’t wait to play around in the ocean.” you sigh blissfully. You’re dying to get away from this pressuring atmosphere that’s all about college entrance exams and applications. It is your third year, after all.





The next Monday, after you turn in your permission slips to the homeroom teacher, your friends come up to you and start chattering away about the itinerary. You’re all excited about the trip, especially because you’ll be going to the island when the weather is likely to be at its best. Your friends are discussing what to do during the free hours when you get a message from your friend, and team captain.

 

“Looks like Miko-chan is sick today, after all.” you relay the message when your friends ask you what it’s about. “No wonder she cancelled morning practice today.”

 

“Well, looks like you’re up, [Surname]-chan. You’re like the vice-captain, right?”

 

“Yeah, so I’m going to have to lead practice today.” your smile grows sinister, “We’re gonna have to make up for those hours that we lost this morning.”

 

“There she is, Conniving-[Surname].” all your friends say together, all of their faces darkening at the same time.




You wouldn’t call yourself conniving. But you did go to extremes sometimes. Which is probably why all your teammates and the previous captain decided to inaugurate your best defender as the captain instead of you, despite how good you were.

 

It shows whenever the captain takes a day off due to whatever reason, and you have to take over for her as the vice-captain and ace of the team. You usually start off gently with your warm-ups and stretches, but once the drills start, you become something of a monster.

 

See, you’re the team’s ace for a reason. Having to take care of not only your siblings, but also your best friend’s siblings sometimes has made you build up your stamina overtime. So whenever you take the lead, you tend to go a bit too far and forget that not everyone has as much energy as you do.

 

So when you’re taking your team on a jog around the school, you end up pushing your the girls into a dash, threatening to make them do the drills all over again if they can’t keep at least ten meters near you. Although it’s a struggle for them, someone has to push your asses into gear every once in a while.

 

Coincidentally, the boys volleyball club also seems to be on their run right now. But at your pace, you catch up to them pretty quickly, forcing your team to come with you. “Oooossu~!” you shout as you run almost effortlessly past some of the back runners.

 

“[Surname]-san! As usual, you’re as athletic as you are beautiful!” one of the boys calls out to you, prompting a couple of the other boys to shout in agreement. You know this one. He’s one of Takeru’s more tameless second-years, who gets distracted more easily than even Kawatabi a lot of the time. Goes to show how he’s not ready to be a court regular just  yet. But you know just how to deal with him.

 

Pivoting around to start running backwards, “Well, if you want a good look, then you better keep up.” you shoot them a wink and a couple shots of your finger guns. And in the midst of their blushing and energetic roars of encouragement, you turn back around and smack Takeru on the back before running past him too.

 

That little backwards jog gave your soccer players a little more time to close the distance between you, but now they’re back to pacing every breath they can as they try to keep up with you. You can’t blame them, since you were actually just trying to help Takeru’s team a little bit. You had no intention of letting them catch up to you.

 

When you run back and make it to the soccer field, your teammates are gasping for air like they’ve been underwater. But not too long after that, you’re back to drills. You hear a couple of calls from the volleyball boys in the background, but you’re too deep into your intensive practice to take notice.




“Are your teammates alright? You looked like you were leading a dictatorship today.” Takeru jokes when you two start walking home from school together.

 

“Shut up, they needed it after we skipped out on morning practice today.” you shoot back playfully. “How’d your practice go anyway?”

 

“Quite energetically, thanks to you.” he laughs. “A couple of the younger guys were going on about how you had probably actually shot them down earlier, because they couldn’t go on.”

 

“Well, I’m so cute now. Who wouldn’t fall for me?” you flip your ponytail back haughtily, breaking out into a laugh shortly afterwards.

 

“What do you mean ‘now’? You’ve always been cute.” your best friend punches your shoulder gently.

 

You can’t help snorting, “I beg to differ. I clearly recall some of those classmates of yours who’ve been going after me in high school were the same ones who teased me about being ugly and boyish just a couple years before.”

 

“Well, you are ugly and boyish.”

 

And he’s punctured with a fist to his side, “You just said I was cute!” you shout.

 

“Yeah, you are. As well as ugly and boyish. Your charm is how well-rounded and consistent you are.” he laughs, clutching his side and dodging your next shot.

 

But you make sure you don’t miss when you throw your arm around his neck to bring his head down so you can rub your knuckles against his head. “Ugh, Takeru, you’re the worst.”

 

Both of you know that there’s no actual malice in your words. Usually, Nakashima Takeru who’s always full of kind and encouraging words, finally lets some mean jokes come out when he’s around you. And it’s the same with how you’re usually pretty confident and content with yourself, but you sometimes let your insecurities show with him. You both show sides of each other that you don’t normally display to others, and you’ve always cherished that about your friendship. The utmost trust you share with each other is unbreakable.



-



The weekend before the school trip to Okinawa, you somehow end up swimsuit shopping with your friends. They had been absolutely flabbergasted when they asked what kind of swimsuit you had, and you had answered, “Can’t I just wear the school swimsuit?”

 

There had been a storm of objections and upon their insistence, you’ve followed them to one of the cute shops in town. Your friends are coming up to you one after another, holding up all sorts of swimsuits up in front of you. Helpless to their efforts, you just let them do what they want with you.

 

Having grown up with many siblings and friends’ siblings to help take care of, you’ve always been a bit of a tomboy, since you didn’t have much time to try and focus on how you looked. Not to mention with your competitive spirit, you ended up getting pretty mussed up playing soccer or with the kids a lot anyway.

 

But you do have standards, and you know what will or will not match you. So whenever you see a really frilly, pastel colored number thrust at you, you push it right back. “Whyyyyy~~!! It’d look so good on you! Come on, [Surname]-chan, all the boys will go nuts over you!”

 

“I’m wearing a swimsuit to swim, not impress boys!” you retort.

 

They start whining at that, “Then there would no point in us coming here with you then!”

 

“Yeah, live a little! You’re always so easy to dismiss the idea of attracting the opposite gender.”

 

“At this rate, you’ll end up committing to the first guy who steals your heart and suddenly get crushed and traumatized for the rest of your life, leaving you to cower away in loneliness after having given up on love forever!!” one of your more overdramatic friends who watches way too many dramas cries.

 

“As if,” you scoff, not backing down with pushing the frilly swimsuit away, “Like any of that matters. I’m gonna marry Takeru anyway.”

 

And silence ensues.

 

Your friends all look at each other while you raise an eyebrow at them, wondering what’s going on now. Which surprises them even more, because if your declaration in itself wasn’t shocking enough, the way you said it so casually as if you were simply reminding everyone that the sun rises in the east had them speechless.

 

But only for a second. Soon you’re bombarded with questions again, because although they usually take everything you say at face value, this one was another dimension of confusion.

 

“What do you mean ‘anyway’? Have you always planned to be with Takeru?”

 

“Do you actually like him as more than just a friend? This is kind of romantic… Childhood friends who’ve always been together…”

 

“Yeah, does Takeru like you back? Have you both actually been dating this entire time? It wouldn’t really come as a surprise if you did, now that I think about it…”

 

“Guys, guys, calm down.” you push them back, because they had been getting extremely close to your personal space, “No, Takeru and I aren’t dating. But I don’t see my life heading anywhere else. Takeru’s been with me through it all, and he’s always accepted me. So I don’t think I can accept anyone else.” you explain thoughtfully.

 

And it’s all true. You were a straight shooter. Takeru has been your life companion thus far, and you don’t think that’s going to change very much in the future. He’s seen you at your worst and at your best, and he knows everything that there is to know about you since the day you were born. And he’s accepted you through thick and thin.

 

You go way back, and you don’t think you’ve changed much since then other than your general appearance. In middle school, you had a sloppy transition period. You had braces, glasses, baby fat, dorky clothes, the works. So when you got teased about it, Takeru still defended you even though you (luckily) weren’t as easily affected by it as others would be. One of the reasons was because you knew you could always depend on him throughout it all, so you had nothing to fear.

 

So all those girls and boys who had ridiculed you through the ages, but were trying to butter you up now would get nothing but a polite declining response. You knew that you had filled out your body a little better as you got further into high school. And you had long since started using contacts to play soccer when you finally got your braces off. Growing out your hair seemed easier to keep out of your face because you could tie it up as well. But you still never really changed that much.

 

With the family and neighbors as crazy as ever, you still threw caution to wind about your appearance. So although you might have become prettier to other people, Takeru (and the rest of your families of course) had been with you through and through, never having treated you any differently. He was your solid foundation, and you can’t really imagine being with another person for the rest of your life.

 

“Are you like, saying that he’s the one for you?” your friend gasps.

 

“I don’t know about that, but we’re practically married already. We’re always taking care of the kids, the house, each other. I don’t think we have any secrets between us…” The two of you even change clothing in the same room, but they didn’t need to know that.

 

“Anyway!” you clap your hands together, “Can we just get this shopping over with? I’m starving.”

 

The whole affair takes a good hour or two before you finally decide. In the end, you come to a compromise, buying two sets of swimsuits, since you really liked the simple one sold by a famous sports gear retailer, but your friends wouldn’t let you leave without at least one cute, girly piece that would push your limits. Settling was easy, getting them past the dress department was hard….





“Woooowww!! It’s the ocean!!” everyone exclaims when they walk across the sand towards the water.

 

Most Wakunan students are setting up their umbrellas and other beach supplies, including Takeru and a couple of his classmates and volleyball club teammates. But just as the volleyball captain has smeared on enough sunscreen to cover his bare torso, a hand slams into his back. He only gets a glimpse of you as you run past him, “Race you to the buoy!” your laugh chimes harmoniously with the beach waves.

 

“You’re on!” Takeru shouts, racing after you towards the water, ignoring the gawking looks his teammates give you. It had only been for a second, but they got to see your impressive, soccer-trained body up close. Even from behind, the simple sports two-piece did wonders in hugging your curves tightly enough to show something, but also keep them in place.

 

Just a couple meters into the water, you trip and end up splashing your best friend. He splashes you back while you’re still down, making you scream and try to defend yourself with your own disadvantaged splashes. You get close enough to jump on him and detain him by force, but he ends up pushing you off with a victorious laugh as he dives into the water first, swimming towards the buoy.

 

You follow, not far behind. But despite your hardest efforts, Takeru gets to the buoy first. You groan in defeat, but continue to challenge him in a series of activities throughout the rest of the afternoon. But things really get going for you when the net is set up for some beach volleyball. “Don’t underestimate a volleyball captain.” he had warned.

 

However, even though Takeru brings his A-game, his teammates seem to be a bit distracted. Of course, it’s not hard to tell what’s throwing them off by the way they’re ogling at you and your friends’ bodies. It’s not everyday that you get to see your cute classmates in cute swimsuits.

 

But Takeru is no stranger to seeing you in undergarments skimpier than what you’re wearing now (you could be surprisingly adventurous with your underwear), so he’s using it to his advantage to concentrate on the game. He was right, you and your friends are no match for a powerhouse volleyball team, so they all but crushed you. But being the sore loser that you are, you never let it end just there. And you’re absolutely delighted at the challenging smile he puts on to match yours. He’s definitely your best friend, always on the same wavelength.






Okinawa is beautiful, almost like paradise to a group of high schoolers in the midst of a pressuring season. The third-years go on all kinds of adventures throughout the island, exploring nature and participating in group activities. You feel like you get closer to a lot of your classmates than you were before. You’re having the time of your life and you don’t want the fun to ever end.

 

Which is precisely why the school trip feels like it comes to an end so quickly. You’re all gathered on the beach on the last night of your trip, where there’s a bonfire sending smoke signals into the brilliant night sky. Everyone is playing with sparklers and roasting marshmallows and taking photos together, trying to make the most of their last night.

 

You’ve absolutely loved the trip, because despite the chaos of it all, it was still a breath of fresh air compared to the hurricane you deal with at home. As you follow Takeru towards some cliffside rocks to get some quiet from the group, you wonder if this is why couples try to hard to go on vacation away from home for a while. Everyone needs a break sometimes, no matter how strong they are. So you make a reminder to yourself to try and plan for a time when your parents can go on a quick getaway.

 

The two of you sit atop a large rock, where your feet dangle off of the edge a few meters above the water. You practically collapse on your back, throwing your arms above your head as you breathe a satisfying sigh. “What a trip.”

 

“I know right. Wait until our families hear about it.” you best friend chuckles.

 

“I’ve already sent them photos. My mom said that she already made one of them her wallpaper.” you snort.

 

Takeru laughs, leaning back on his hands, “Which one?”

 

“That selfie of us with the sunset in the back is on her phone. The shot of us playing beach volleyball is on the computer.”

 

“That’s priceless.”

 

The chatter goes back and forth between the two of you for a while, and after a short pause, Takeru comments on your white sundress, “It’s pretty.”

 

“Thanks. My friends made me buy it the weekend beforehand with the swimsuits.” you roll your eyes, remembering that hassle of a shopping spree. “They kept going on about how it looked so pure or whatever on me, like it was a wedding dress or something.”

 

“Well, I wouldn’t be surprised if you showed up to your own wedding in something as casual as that.” Takeru comments.

 

“Why not?” you muse, “You said yourself that it’s pretty. Since I’m gonna marry you anyway, I guess it’d leave me with one less thing to worry about.” you laugh.

 

Takeru laughs with you, but a little more softly that he usually does. You almost miss it, but you’re best friends, so you manage to catch what others would easily overlook. “You always say that... But when’s it actually gonna happen?”

 

“Well, we’re still young. I thought maybe you’d want to date around first before you realize that you’ll always come back to me in the end. And then we’ll really be stuck together forever.” you laugh with a big smile on your face.

 

He pauses for a moment before he speaks up again, “I don’t need to date around to realize you’re the one for me.”

 

You can’t see his face since he’s still overlooking the ocean while you’re lying down on the rock. But even with his playful tone of voice, you can tell that the atmosphere has taken a serious undertone.

 

Slowly, you sit up, dying to know what kind of expression he has on right now. When you’re sitting upright beside him again, there’s a myriad of emotions mixed around in his eyes. They’re as vast and deep and sincere as the ocean sitting before you. “Takeru?” you tread carefully.

 

You’ve both always made wild declarations about anything, but usually you’re the one who’s always taken the idea of your future together as a prospect of marriage so lightly. You always said it lightheartedly, despite how you’ve always truly believed that it was true. But in all honesty, if you thought about it like you probably should have, you don’t know how Takeru feels about it. Because to you, you don’t see a big change in your relationship. But to him, maybe it would trigger the biggest change of all between you two. So despite how well you know Takeru, this is the one thing that you could be iffy on.

 

But the boy has courage, if anything, and he looks into your eyes as if he’s made an incredibly important decision. Maybe he has. “I’m fine being with you forever. It’ll just be another day for us. We’ll laugh together, struggle together, make it through everything. Together.” he confesses, taking a moment to let that sink in before he continues, “And I’m ready for that today. I’ve been ready for a long time.”

 

The seriousness doesn’t leave his eyes, but you smile at him like you usually do, putting your hand on top of his, “Well, what a coincidence. So have I.”

 

Finally, he smiles back at you. But you only see it briefly because he’s leaning in towards you, quick and sure movements as he tucks your chin between his fingers to hold you to a kiss. It’s your first kiss with him. And it’s oh so sweet. His lips are soft and gentle, so you respond with enough pressure to prove that you’re enjoying this.

 

The two of you pull apart only to gaze at each other with murky eyes before coming together to kiss again. This time, you rest your hand on his shoulder as you interlace the fingers of your already joined hands. Everything about this scene is so romantic and beautiful, and basically perfect.

 

You’ve never had something this perfect happen to you. It’s always been chaos and cacophony. But this moment you’re sharing with Takeru, your best friend, and probably the love of your life, is something completely set apart from everything else you’ve shared together in your lives.

 

It becomes clearer to you how you were completely wrong about nothing changing between you. With the way you’re feeling Takeru in your hands and your lips and your legs that are now coming up to straddle him, he feels like a completely different being from your best friend. The boy you always punched, poked, and hugged is now holding you in an embrace so intimate that you are surer than you were before that you will never be able to accept anyone else this way.

 

Your hands have abandoned their chaste positions on each other’s hands and face, and now your arms are around his neck as one of his strong arms hugs you closer by the waist and the other presses against the flat of your back. The motions between your lips have evolved from mere rifting, to tongue dancing.

 

Both of you are kind of new at this, but the motions remain slow and gradual. Each of you lets the other explore on their own pretense, and you both learn new things about each other. The only time you pull away from him is to breathe a low, spell-inducing, “Takeru…”

 

He shivers at the sound of his name spoken so sinfully pleasing into his ear. Your eyes are as dark as your aura right now as you lean your forehead against his to try catching your breath before you delve into Takeru’s mouth again. How naive you were to have thought that you knew everything about your best friend. All these years have gone by, and you didn’t know that he tasted this good, felt this good.

 

Neither of you know how long you stay like that, wrapped up in each other’s arms atop the ocean cliffside like you’re in some romantic film, but it’s difficult to ignore the budding presence growing underneath you. Especially since you’re sitting right on top of it, you can feel Takeru’s warmth emanating through the thin layer of your underwear underneath your dress. When you adjust your position on top of him, his groan resonates through your entire spine, making you gasp again, “Takeru!”

 

“Ugh, sorry.” he holds onto your arms and pushes his head into your shoulder, looking like he’s struggling really hard to keep himself from doing something. Well that’s new. Takeru’s not the type hold back.

 

“Sorry about what?” you buzz, giving your hips a generous roll against his pelvis, “About this?” you try to tease, but your breathlessness gives your need away.

 

You don’t think you’ve ever heard anything as gratifying as the tortured moan Takeru releases into the air as he throws his head back, squeezing his eyes shut. “[Name]...” he gasps, whipping right back up to kiss you again.

 

This kissing that quickly escalates into something more heated and wanton excites you, spurring you to arch further against Takeru’s body as you keep rolling your hips against his. Unable to choke his moans down, Takeru releases your mouth in lieu of biting into your neck and shoulder, whispering your name in a way you’ve never heard before. It’s more beautiful than any song you’ve ever heard.

 

“Takeru… please…” you breathe, bringing your arms underneath his to grab at his shoulders. There’s so much pressure and heat build up in your core now that you’re just bouncing on top of his clothed hard-on, searching for some sort of route to release. “Takeru!” your voice catches when he brings his hands down to press against your lower back, pushing you closer to him.

 

Pressure builds higher as there’s not a breath of space between your bodies as you continue to rock against him, and after some effort, you reach and fall over your peak in a flash of white that’s so pure that you wonder if you’ve seen an angel. And when you open your eyes and lean back to take in Takeru’s loving gaze and breathless panting directed at you, you realize that you probably have.



-



Takeru has been with you his entire life, and he’s seen you in many states of disarray. When you were in tears over a lost soccer game, weeping a mess over a sad movie, panicking over having lost sight of one of your siblings, he’s seen it all.

 

But this, this figure of you panting, needy for him, a sheen of sweat shining underneath the moonlight of the Okinawa night sky, this was something he has only dreamed of. He doesn’t know when he figured out he was in love with you. Maybe he had always been in love with you from the start, and it’s just that eventually he started having wet dreams about you.

 

Although the sight of you almost naked doesn’t surprise him, the thought of you almost naked and calling his name does send him off in heat. So imagine how flustered he is now that you’re sitting on top of him in the most suggestive of positions, practically begging for his dick. And he can’t hide how excited he is to be inside of you, because he’s already groaning at how you squeeze around his fingers that enter your slick heat.

 

He had pushed your panties to the side of your thigh to get his fingers through, and you were so, so tight. You’re soaking, for him . None of the precious memories he created on this school trip were going to top this. The way you’re clutching onto his shoulders, kissing him frantically, crying his name like he’s your god or something, he’ll never forget this. He’ll cherish every breath he steals from you, drink in every whimper your throat releases, and sear the texture of your insides into the nerves of his skin.

 

After bringing you to your second climax and wiggling his fingers around inside of you as you ride down from your high, Takeru brings you into yet another passionate kiss, silently asking you for permission to go further. And just in case, he brings one of your hands down to palm at his crotch to reiterate the implied question.

 

Without fail, you remove your hand after a couple of rubs to pull the elastic of his shorts down, releasing his erection into the cool night air. You’ve seen Takeru’s cock on a number of occasions, more so in the past than as of late, but the carnivorous glint in your eyes convinces him that you’re impressed enough with his hard state. “[Name]...” he whimpers without realizing it.




Little does he know, it’s the driving force that has you throwing all thoughts and precautions into the wind as you take him into your hand to position him upright so you can sink yourself onto his length inch by inch. It’s all really close to torture of some sort. The feel of your heat swallowing him up, the look of your abused lip between your teeth, the sound of your thudding moans, and taste of your skin underneath his tongue as he sucks at your neck. It’s absolute agony. He can only imagine how you’re feeling with the pressure you’re using to squeeze his arms.

 

“Oh… Oh….” you continue to sigh as you go farther and farther down on your knees to sheathe him to the hilt. Once you’re sitting atop him completely, your grip loosens on his arms and you look at each other for a long while, just drinking each other in.

 

“You’re so beautiful…” Takeru simply declares, moving a section of your hair behind your ear. “I can’t believe this is happening…”

 

“What’s so hard to believe?” you smile, running your hands down his arms to clutch his hands again, “I love you. It’s how it’s always been.”

 

With your profound confession, he rushes forward to kiss you again, and again, and again until you’ve both forgotten all other sensations other than your interlaced fingers and locked lips. But of course, with a clench of your insides, all’s brought back to the present.

 

That doesn’t stop Takeru from leaning his forehead against yours as he returns your confession, “I love you, too.” The affection is enough for you to implode.

 

To seal the proclamations, you start rolling your hips again, getting a feel for the Takeru inside of you. You feel connected to him in a way you’ve never been before. And with every rise and drop down onto his shaft, you see new colors and feel new sensations and somehow grow as a person. This is the man who’s always been with you, accepted you, encouraged you, and now he’s inside of you, loving you with all his might. You’re overwhelmed with emotions you’ve never even fathomed the existence of, proving to you that Nakashima Takeru will continue to take you to new heights.




It’s funny how you used to sit on Takeru’s lap as a joke or to play around when you were kids, and now it was happening in young adulthood with his dick inside of you. He can’t get enough of your gasping moans as you bounce on and off of him like a practiced rider. He’s crazy over the sight of you mounted over him, mouth open and spilling out moans of approval, your dress flaring and catching with every wisp of the evening winds.

 

Needing to feel your skin under his hands, Takeru reaches under the skirt of your dress and rests a hand on the curve of your butt, and uses the other to feel for your clit. The press of his thumb against the little bundle of nerves as you slide down his cock again and again shatters your composure and you just start calling out his name without restraint, begging for him to do all sorts of things to you with his thick cock. “Takeru!! Oh, Takeru!!” you sob, blowing up his ego. And with how good you feel around him, he’s tempted to fulfill every one of your wishes.

 

Feeling his fuse about to blow, Takeru grabs your hips and regrettably lifts you off of him, much to your loud disdain (he’s in as much pain as you are, trust him), and comes with a single stroke under your hot, pinning gaze. He positions himself as not to get the mess on either of you, desperately wishing he was still inside of your tight heat. He had wanted so bad to come inside of you, with you squeezing your already tight walls around his red cock. There are all sorts of regretful thoughts swimming in his mind, but he knows it’s for the best since he knows for a fact that you’re not on any contraceptives.

 

As he slowly becomes flaccid again, you’re lying on your back on the rock, but this time with your knees in the air and your legs spread apart, desperately crying for him to finish you off. And being the responsible young man that he is, he hurriedly tucks himself back into his shorts before once again pulling your panties to the side to go down on you.

 

He plunges his tongue as far as he can go, unable to resist the scent of him embedded within your walls. It’s evidence that he’s been with you from the inside out, and he feels a swell of pride come over him as he digs around in all sorts of angles to swallow up the taste of you. Your wanton moans and whines of his name spur him further, and he inserts two digits to assist his mouth.

 

The combination of the hot muscle and the rough fingers scissoring around inside of you sets you on fire, burning ecstasy into your skin. When Takeru’s teeth scrape against your clit every now and then, you go insane in pleasure, trying to squeeze his head flat between your thighs. But he does a good job keeping your legs apart as he sucks your orgasm right out of you, leaving you to shake and convulse over his tongue and hands that are incredibly skilled, yet not enough. You’re aching for something bigger, harder, stiffer… And you wanted nothing more than to throw him to the ground to swallow up his cock all over again.

 

But it’s clear that you won’t be going anywhere by the way your limbs melt into pudding when Takeru pulls away from you. He leans over you to kiss you one more time before helping you up. “Takeru, that was unfair…” you whine, your body still screaming to be touched by him despite your fatigue.

 

“Look, I love you and all, but we have enough kids around to take care of back home.” he smiles, lacing his hand with yours to pull you down the rock to start heading back, “Let’s save that for later.”

 

You grumble a lot on the way back to the group, but accept his logic anyway. The idea of a little you or Takeru running around was cute, but adding yet another to the already big family was too much. But someday. Someday.

Notes:

thanks for all the kudos, guys! if you have a comment or suggestion, let me know.

Chapter 4: Tendou Satori - Fighter

Summary:

gangster!au where you're close friends with the seijou delinquents, and you get pulled into a strange deal during a confrontation with shiratorizawa.

Notes:

SO, as many of you may already know, the third season of the anime is going to be released this coming friday. AND I'M PRETTY HYPED ABOUT IT. so to celebrate, i've decided to smash out this oneshot for the upcoming battle against shiratorizawa. i wanted to portray tendou's self confidence better, but it ended up being more condescending... so idk if i like it or not completely. but this is what i've come up with, so on with the show!

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Unbeknownst to most of the city, the diner joint tucked in the corner three blocks away from Aoba Johsai High School is one of the best spots to get a nice, hot meal. There wasn’t anything in particular that set it apart from the other diner chains in the prefecture, but the atmosphere has always given you a nice place to just settle down. It was better than any hole in the wall cafe you’ve visited, mainly because you’ve just made so many memories there with friends, family, and occasionally a cute boy.

 

Although it was but a single branch of a larger diner joint that was widespread in the country, this one was labeled by its customers as the ‘House of Seijou’ or better known as ‘The House’ for its regulars. The name caught on for a number of reasons. The most obvious fact to the public was that it was in close proximity to Aoba Johsai itself, and most of its customers consisted of Seijou students.

 

But only those local to the area knew that it was the go-to spot for Seijou yankii’s to bum around. The restaurant employees had long since stopped trying to get the teenagers in rumpled uniforms and messy hairstyles to go to class during school hours, and they’ve come to a mutual understanding. The troublemakers would provide responsible patronage and the employees would turn a blind eye to the fact that they were minors who should be in school so long as they paid their bill.

 

You don’t mind the setup, since most of these delinquents who frequent the establishment are your friends. You grew up in the same neighborhood and shared many things together, so you weren’t about to ditch them just because they developed a dramatic rebellious streak.

 

Admittedly, you look a little weird mixed in with them with your pristine uniform and without a single hair out of place in your tight ponytail, while they often sported rumpled shirts with their sleeves rolled up too high and smelled of all sorts of products. It looked good on them, of course, but the juxtaposition of you with them was still a bit uncanny.

 

Despite all that, the House is where they seem to cause the least amount of trouble these days. So it’s a good place for all of you. It’s like a little haven or safe ground for you all to just chill and forget about who you are for a little while.

 

So imagine your surprise when your favorite little eatery is completely trashed when you come to visit with your closest friends on a relatively bright afternoon. The windows are smashed in, the lightbulbs are hanging and zapping all over the ceiling like they exploded, the chairs are missing all sorts of legs and joints, many booths are torn, and tables are overturned.

 

You can barely hold in your devastated gasp as you take a step towards what’s left of the Seijou House that’s taped off with yellow. There’s a police car parked nearby so maybe some investigation is happening.

 

“What that hell? Who did this?” Oikawa is the first to demand.

 

“It doesn’t look like it was a car accident or anything, since the inside is completely demolished too.” Matsukawa observes, peeking in through the shattered window.

 

“No shit.” Hanamaki and Iwaizumi agree. After a couple minutes of deliberating, the usual restaurant manager steps out from around the back of the restaurant with the police officer, sending him off with a thank you.

 

“Mizoguchi-kun, what the hell happened?!” you and your friends bound up to him.

 

“Ugh… We’ve gotten into a sticky situation.” the blonde man scratches his head in frustration, pulling out a ripped tie. It’s clear that it belongs to a Seijou student. “I didn’t tell the police about this, because I figured they wouldn’t be able to do anything. But I found this attached to the front door when I got here this morning.” Mizoguchi hands the tie over to Oikawa.

 

The leader of the group takes the ripped garment and digs inside of it, pulling out a school ID. There’s a collective widening of eyes when they see that it belongs to Yahaba Shigeru, one of your friends. And scrawled messily in whiteout on the back of the tie is the outline of a bird with large wings spread out.

 

The tie crumples in Oikawa’s tightened fist as he hisses, “Those Shiratorizawa bastards…”

 

“They’ve got Yahaba?” your eyebrows furrow in worry for the second-year boy.

 

“Not just him.” Hanamaki lifts the end of the tie, “This is Kindaichi’s tie. I recognize the stain from that curry he had last time. Damn bastard didn’t wash it until now.” he almost chuckles.

 

But obviously, there’s no humor in this situation. The rival gang from across the district has got two of your own. There’s no way that your friends are going to sit still in this situation.

 

“Shit. Guess that means we’re heading in.” Iwaizumi announces.

 

“You bet your ass we are.” Oikawa huffs, marching off in the direction towards Shiratorizawa Academy. The other boys follow along, grumbling about having to get their hands dirty after they were in such a good mood today.

 

You jump along in step with them, “I’m coming too!”

 

“Like hell you are.” Oikawa retorts, “Go home [Name]-chan.”

 

Ouch. Usually Oikawa took on a nicer tone with you, but he must be super pissed right now to be uttering such harsh words. But it’s not like it’s gonna stop you anyway.

 

“I’m going.” you declare, “The House is important to me and I’m not just gonna sit around when my second home is destroyed and my second family is in danger.”

 

“[Surname], I’m with Oikawa on this.” Matuskawa pipes up, “We know that you can take care of yourself, but this is too dangerous for you. If anything drastic actually happened to Yahaba or Kindaichi, then this is going to get ugly. You shouldn’t be around for that.”

 

“Get real! This is as big of an insult to me as it is to any of you! Don’t treat me like a helpless little girl! I used to fight your battles for you!” you argue.

 

“Yeah, when we were six.” Iwaizumi snorts, “And you’ve never had to face off with Shiratorizawa. They’re no joke, [Surname]. Trust us, we don’t want any more trouble to come to anyone else.”

 

“Try to talk me out of it as much as you want. I’m going. We don’t know how many we’re gonna be up against. Someone has to be there to drag your carcasses out of that place.” you huff.

 

After some more rallying back and forth, Oikawa finally screams in frustration, “Fine. You can come. But you’re to stay behind us at all times. Don’t say a word.”

 

“Hmph.” you stick your nose in the air but follow along anyway. At least he finally decided to compromise. This would be a lot easier for all of you if they didn’t worry about you. They may be your best friends, but even they don’t know every detail about you.





The moment the two groups of intimidating looking guys meet eyes, the tension in the air thickens to a density that could be sliced through. Oikawa lifts the tie with the white eagle symbol up by his head to show the group of Shiratorizawa guys, “We got your message. Where are they, Ushiwaka?”

 

The guy standing up front, Ushijima Wakatoshi, speaks in a deep voice that could send vibrations through the air, “I see you’ve come to pick up your brats, Oikawa. Quite a bit of trouble they’ve caused us. I hope you don’t mind us disciplining them a bit.”

 

“Where the fuck are they, Ushiwaka. I’m not playing around here. Return them immediately.” Oikawa’s voice becomes acidic.

 

There’s a thick pause in which the two leaders stare each other down for a moment before Ushiwaka calls to one of his boys, “Kawanishi.” And there’s a strained minute in which one guy disappears into the alleyway of the apartment building, but when he returns dragging a really banged up Yahaba and Kindaichi tied back to back with their wrists bound behind him.

 

When Kawanishi slams the two to the ground, he keeps a foot between their backs to keep them down, and uncomfortably so. The two bend forward, trying to hide their pained groans. You sigh at the sight of the poor things. They’re barely conscious and they don’t even need to be gagged because their lips are so swollen. Their… everything is swollen. Are they even able to walk?

 

“I’ll willingly return your men to you, Oikawa.” Ushiwaka brings the attention back to himself, “Once you have them apologize for tagging up our building and fracturing our friends’ ribs.”

 

“You want an apology after that hurricane you wrought on territory?” Iwaizumi spits. “You were too chicken to confront us directly, so you decided to desolate a place close to us in the dead of night to stay safe and hidden. And now you expect an apology?”

 

“You are free to apologize in their stead, Oikawa. Iwaizumi.” Ushijima restates as if he wasn’t just called out.

 

One of his lackeys beside him, with wild red hair and a lazy look in his eye, follows up, “The fact of the matter is that they struck first. We simply did what we had to in retaliation. Surely you don’t expect us to just return them free of charge?” he raises an infuriatingly challenging eyebrow, and it complements his smirk perfectly.

 

You can hear every one of your friends clenching their teeth, and see their bodies tensing. Something could break out at any moment, but you had all settled on not throwing any punches until Yahaba and Kindaichi were safely back in your custody.

 

However, Oikawa isn’t about to bow to these Shiratorizawa bastards, “Like hell I’m apologizing after how you totally destroyed an innocent establishment in our area. You lost your chance at reconciliation when you trashed the House.”

 

“Well then what do you propose to do in order to have these maggots returned to you in one piece?” Ushijima blinks, face unchanging since the beginning. Kawanishi presses his foot down harder, drawing out Yahaba’s and Kindaichi’s painful groans for dramatic effect.

 

“We’ll take them by force if we have to.” Iwaizumi pronounces, rolling up his sleeves.

 

The Shiratorizawa boys instinctively grab for their own weapons, but the redhead from earlier tries to calm the situation, “Now, now, we don’t have to settle everything with a scuffle. I mean, if these guys take another hit, their lights might just go out for good.” he chuckles, lightly kicking Yahaba in the stomach with his hands in his pockets.

 

“How ‘bout a compromise? Perhaps a night with that pretty little princess you’ve got tucked away back there?” The redhead tilts his neck to get a good look at you and send a lopsided grin your way.

 

“No way in hell.” Oikawa seethes.

 

“Not happening.” Iwaizumi agrees.

 

“Tendou.” Ushijima reminds his right-hand to behave.

 

“What? I think it’s a fair proposal.” Tendou shrugs with his hands up midair, acting completely innocent, “I mean, do you really want any more of your guys roughed up? This is in your best interests. You get your boys back, and no one else gets hurt.” he explains with the biggest smirk on his face, “Hmm? How ‘bout it? We borrow your little female friend for a night, and she’ll be returned to you the very next day.”

 

“You can take your ‘fair proposal’ and stick it--”

 

“We accept your proposal.” you push forward, interrupting Oikawa’s possible declaration of war by elbowing him in the side.

 

“Like hell we do! [Name]-chan, are you insane?!” Oikawa yells.

 

“Shut up, Oikawa. I can handle myself for a night.” you huff, “We’re in Shiratorizawa territory, we’re outnumbered, and they still have Yahaba and Kindaichi. They look like they’re about to stop breathing.”

 

“But--!”

 

“Just trust me for once, yeah?” you put your hands together down in front of your legs and look up to him with a cute pout. It’s a good look on you, with the cute ribbon in your hair and your perfectly ironed uniform. You’re a vision of schoolgirl virgin perfection, and you know Oikawa can be weak to your cutesy act sometimes. “I want to get them back.”

 

Reluctantly, but eventually, Oikawa clenches his teeth and narrows his eyes, turning away angrily. You take that as approval, so you turn back to the Shiratorizawa guys and smile your brightest, most dazzling grin, “Okay, we’re a go! If you would so kindly return our boys now, please.”

 

“Approach, and we will return them.” Ushijima gives the order.

 

You nod to your friends, who all give you worried and frustrated looks before you swing around and glide towards your best friends’ rivals since childhood. You face Tendou’s lazy smirk head-on and let him wrap his arm around you and pull you close to his side. He smells like smoke and wood chips, basically like any other yankii. He has a strong, but casual grip around you, like you’ve been his whore for ages.

 

Once Yahaba and Kindaichi are safe in the Seijou boys’ side, untied and draped over your friends’ shoulders, you flick Tendou’s arm off of your shoulder without a second thought.

 

“Oh?” he looks at you with interest peaking his eyebrows, but the others’ gazes are filled with outrage at how you’re treating one of Ushijima’s most important men like a scumbag.

 

“I agreed to come with you. I didn’t say you wouldn’t meet any resistance though.” you shrug with a small, innocent smile.

 

Tendou cackles, “Are all Seijou girls this bold?” he stuffs his hands in his pockets again and leans down so that you’re nose to nose, “Looks like I’ll have to teach you a thing or two about manners then. I’m looking forward to this. We do have all night, after all.”

 

“I doubt you’ll make it for that long.” you snort, rolling your eyes.

 

The other boys surrounding you are struck with outrage at your behavior. You were bad-mouthing Ushijima’s right hand man, a higher-up in one of the most powerful teenage gangs in the prefecture.

 

And one of them, probably a younger recruit who seems unhappy with how you’re talking to his senpai, even pulls a gun out at you, breathing heavily and glaring at you with wildly angry eyes under his straight-cut bangs.

 

“[Name]-chan!!/[Surname]!!” your friends shout.

 

“Goshiki.” Ushijima also warns.

 

You seem to be the only calm one, simply brushing the gun aside as easily as you had Tendou’s arm earlier. “As if I’d be afraid of a lackey who hasn’t even earned his own bullets yet.” you mumble, not even sparing bowl-cut boy a glance as you roll your eyes.

 

That widens even more eyes. Everyone is looking at you as if you’ve sprouted an extra couple of limbs out of your body. You can’t really blame them, since you just look like some goody-goody schoolgirl who follows gangsters around.

 

But to think that you knew of the inner workings of the hierarchy. In the gangs that ran deep into previous generations, weapons were tools of incredible status and power, and the right to wield them had to be earned through endless suffering and devotion.

 

A Shiratorizawa bullet had to be worth at least a couple years, scars, and battles of service. There was no way that this kid who was still too driven by his emotions had enough experience to be wielding the gun he held. “This is quite a disappointment, actually.” you sigh, “To think that Shiratorizawa would let kids pull farces like this in front of others.”

 

“This little bitch.” one of the older guys doesn’t seem to want to take this sitting down anymore and makes an aggressive grab at you, but you pivot 180 and pull his arm into a restrictive grip as you trip him and send him to the ground.

 

“Shirabu-san!” Goshiki shouts before turning to you with a snarl. He lunges at you but you’ve already kicked a leg high up into the air. And with a quick jab at the right point in his torso, he crumples in time for you to swing your leg down on the back of his neck to sandwich his head between your thighs as you bring him to the ground with you.

 

“Hey! I thought the whole point of this exchange was so that we wouldn’t have to get violent.” you scold Ushijima while you’ve got Goshiki in your headscissor lock.

 

“Oi, why am I kind of jealous of Goshiki right now?” Tendou murmurs to Semi.

 

Everyone’s shock is interrupted by the screams of your friends, “If you hurt one hair on her head, you’re all done for!!” Iwaizumi growls as he holds Oikawa back from jumping at Goshiki.

 

“Boys, boys, calm down.” Tendou brings his arms out in a gesture of peace and welcome, but quickly retracts his expression to that of instigative malice, “This was a peaceful deal. Let’s move on. Besides,” He narrows his eyes as he gazes down at you with his snakelike eyes. “She’ll learn to love the pain.”

 

Although it looks like something snaps in the Seijou boys, you still them with a murderous look telling them to hold the fuck back . Calmly, you release Goshiki’s neck and you both stand up, patting yourselves down. He gives you an acidic look before falling back in line. You simply smooth down your hair, hoping that your ponytail didn’t come out of place.

 

Ushijima announces Shiratorizawa’s departure, so you follow the boys inside of the apartment building, pushing away Tendou’s arm again when he tries to advance, “Uh, no. If you want to touch me, then you can hold my hand.” you reach your hand out to him.

 

Tendou sniffs at you amusedly, “You want me to drag you around like a child?”

 

“No, I want you to lead me like a boyfriend.” It’s a joke, but it’s meant to scare him. Surely, a little thought of commitment should freak him out a little.

 

At that, the redhead cackles like crazy again, holding his stomach at how hysterical he finds you. “Oh man, you’re an interesting one.” he comments, more to himself than you, it seems. He takes your hand and leads you inside nonetheless. But once you’re inside the building and on your way down to the basement where the boys are all going, Tendou leans in close to your ear, “I can’t wait to hear you scream for me.”

 

As inappropriate as it is, a pleasurable shiver travels down your spine at the redhead’s condescending tone. As crazy as he is, he definitely has a position close to leadership for a reason.




“Tendou, are you sure that this girl isn’t more trouble than she’s worth?” Semi asks the redhead as he’s stuffing his face with yakisoba bread, while you’re off somewhere bothering yet another Shiratorizawa member.

 

“Are you kidding?” Tendou responds through a mouthful of noodles, tilting his head over to look at you, where you’re currently lecturing Ushijima of all people about the proper training people should go through before they can be given weapons, real or not. “That’s what makes her so much more fun to have around!”

 

“What were you even planning to do with her? I thought you just wanted to fuck her or something. Now she’s got you following her orders like those Seijou dogs.” Semi sighs.

 

“Dogs live happier lives than humans, you know.” Tendou remarks. But at Semi’s unamused expression, he just laughs, “What? It just goes to show she’s got some grit to her. Natural leadership qualities. Those are the ones who are usually the most submissive in bed, you know.” he winks.

 

With another sigh, Semi walks off to get a drink, “Whatever. I hope you make this night you traded in worth it.”

 

“Oh, don’t worry. I intend to.”




He has to find the perfect timing to catch you by surprise, but Tendou manages to pull you into his lap for the movie that he’s put on. Several of the boys are gathered around the common area where the TV is, and it looks like any regular living room. It’s just that there are no windows since this is the basement.

 

At first, you have half a mind to move off of his lap and sit on the spot beside him on the sofa, or even to move across the room instead. But he doesn’t make any sleazy moves to touch you other than resting his arms on the armrest and lightly around your waist. Also, the back of your thigh brushes against something impressive when you adjust your position, so you just hum a subtle, “Not bad.” before turning to face the screen.

 

There was no way that Tendou would have missed that though, so he leans in closer to your face so smirk, “What was that?”

 

You remain silent and and just sit there, surprisingly comfortable in his lap. For the duration of the movie, you both seem pretty focused on the plot, but Tendou is pleasantly surprised to feel you tensing and squirming a little bit as it progresses. You don’t seem to do well with horror judging by the way you curl closer to him and unknowingly grip his bicep with both of your hands. He smirks every time he glances down at you cuddling against him, mainly because you were fucking cute.

 

And he doesn’t lose this opportunity. With tension and fear from watching the movie swallowing your body, you don’t seem to notice (or maybe you don’t mind) that his hand is slowly, but surely slithering up your thigh and under your skirt. He keeps moving upward, but he doesn’t feel any fabric underneath until he’s all the way up to your waistline, where he touches a string of silky elastic.

 

Thong, huh? Tendou smirks wider to himself as you press closer to his chest at the suspense-building scene on the TV. Maybe you’re not the cute, innocent virgin that you want people to think you are.

 

It isn’t until the ending credits start rolling that you begin to regain feeling in your body, and there is an unmistakable squeezing on your bare butt. And when you move your gaze up, you find that you’re pressed rather close to Tendou’s body and you can feel his nose in your hair, taking in your scent.

 

“Hey, let go.” you push his hands off, although that butt massage was really quite nice and you’re almost reluctant that you did that now.

 

“Hmm? What’s the matter, cutie?” Tendou leans in to nose at your temple and whisper into your ear while the lights are still out, the TV screen the only thing illuminating the room. Almost everyone else who had been watching has fallen asleep. It was probably past midnight now anyway. “You were coming so close to me, I thought you wanted more.”

 

Truthfully, you would not be opposed to having more. He had some nice, strong hands. But you weren’t done causing trouble just yet. “Get off me, I’m still mad at you guys for trashing the House. Don’t think you’re getting what you want so easily after what you did.”

 

Your moment of weakness as a result of the movie had set you back a step, and now Tendou was probably aware of how well you were accepting his body. But you’re not giving in just yet.

 

“Oh, princess, I never said it was going to be easy.” he coos, coming up to lick at your earlobe. You can’t fight the shiver that runs up your back. “If anything, I’ll just have you tied to my bed for a little while. Because no matter how long you want to wait, you’re still mine for the night. And I am going to make that pretty little mouth of yours scream for me.”

 

His threat isn’t empty, he probably does have handcuffs. And you had known from the beginning that you couldn’t put this off forever. But this condescending whispering is making you lose your ground. If he wasn’t so hot, you’d have kicked his ass into the trash where he belongs. Yet here you are, caged on his lap and letting him whisper sexual threats into your ear like he’s sharing a juicy secret with you, and getting turned on in the most inappropriate of ways.

 

You’ve been pressing your legs together in an attempt to quell your growing desire for him, but he sees right through you. “Honey, you may be able to roundhouse Goshiki to the ground, but you’ll have to try harder if you want to hide this smell from me.” Tendou continues to hum into your ear. His lips are so close to it that he’s practically kissing it now as he speaks to you.

 

He moves to slip his hand through your clamped legs, sliding in from the opening between your knees, “If you want me, then just say so. It doesn’t have to be hard. I’ll take care of you. Make you feel real good. Hmm? How’s that sound?”

 

With every word he utters, you slowly, slowly begin to release the strength you have built up in your legs, finally allowing Tendou’s hand to bypass through. He’s got a sharp tongue, damn it. You want to berate yourself for letting him get to you, for giving him another trophy to win, but you can’t deny the aching want that’s shaking your core the higher Tendou’s hand goes up your thighs.

 

But just when his calloused finger brushes against the skin between your legs, you grab hold of his wrist, regaining your consciousness of the weight of the situation. If you were going to be fucked by a rival group member, then you have to at least establish some ground to maintain your dignity. “Fine, you kept your end of the deal, and I’ll keep mine. But,” you start, making sure you have Tendou’s full attention, “You can only touch me. You’re not allowed to see a thing.”

 

“And what makes you think that you can call the shots?” he challenges.

 

It’s your time to shine and show off your own little dirty tongue, “Because I know your type. You want to destroy me, ruin me, and tear me the fuck apart until I don’t resemble a inch of how I look now.”

 

Tendou licks his lips, his eyes growing darker by the second as he watches and listens to you. It is true that he’d like nothing more than to see your uniform torn open and your hair falling over your shoulders. That ribbon in your hair would look much better tied around your wrists.

 

“But I know what you really want. You want a challenge. To play chaser.” You run a finger down the length of his torso from his neck to the bottom of his navel for dramatic effect, “You want me to defy you just to make your conquest over me taste that much better.”

 

Being called out like this is quite refreshing. Tendou has never really faced much of a challenge before when it came to girls. They were usually scared of him or totally into him because he was a bad boy or something. But you’re playing him like a card, and he’s dying to see how your little gamble turns out.

 

Chuckling darkly, he starts caressing your thighs again, “Alright. I’ll go with your terms. You don’t have to take anything off.” he whispers, getting real close to you again, “But you have to stay out here, where everyone can see you.”

 

That makes you freeze. You don’t even make a move when he slides a finger up your slit through the fabric of your panties. “I mean, since no one gets to another inch of your skin, then at least they get to watch as I fuck the lights out of you.”

 

He slips a finger past the thin cloth and inserts it at your opening, “My, my. A little wet, aren’t we? Maybe you don’t mind the idea of everyone watching.” You gasp as he pushes in deeper and curls up, “Or maybe you just want my dick inside of you. Is that it? Hmm?”

 

This time, he takes a lick up your jawline, bleeding pleasurable shivers into your body. Tendou likes this look on you, with your mouth slightly open, your eyes struggling not to glaze over, and panting quietly on top of him. It’s true what you said, he wants to break you. He wants to make you give in to him. He acknowledges your pride, but he wants more than anything for you to give it up by wanting him. “Go on,” he suggests, “Touch it. I know you want to.”

 

And holy hell, you do . You want to feel that heavy length in your hand, and possibly other places, because you can tell it’s big. But just how big? But you’re not going down without a fight, “If you kiss me first.”

 

Tendou tries to hide his surprise behind his smirk and challengingly raised eyebrows, but after a tense minute of just staring at each other, his finger still inside you, he grants your request. He pushes the back of your head forward with his hand that’s still on the armrest and brings you to his lips. And surprisingly, he gets really into it.

 

Tendou usually fucked for pleasure, without strings attached. Kissing was cute, but it didn’t get any jobs done. Sure, sometimes he would make out with a girl on the couch if he was bored and she happened to be there, giving him bedroom eyes. But he never initiated a kiss. And he never enjoyed it as much as he was now.

 

You try taking the lead a few times, but whenever Tendou moves his finger inside of your core, your strength lessens, leaving an opening for him to take you by storm. His tongue is monstrous, pummeling through your mouth and stealing every breath of air from you. He increases his pace with his fingers inside of you to match, inserting another two while he’s at it. He’s working really hard to get you riled up.

 

But finally, you reward him with a low, strained moan. It’s barely audible, since you don’t really want anyone to be woken up for this, but Tendou hears it nonetheless. “That’s the spirit.” Tendou releases your mouth briefly to say. And then he pulls his fingers out of you to push one of your legs off of his lap down to the floor to spread you wider for him.

 

He likes that desperate glint in your eyes, and he can tell that you want him to touch you again. So he obliges and reinserts his fingers into your core, and your head lolls back beautifully as you breathe another moan.

 

“Mm… That’s what I like to hear.” Tendou surprises himself by leaning down to kiss you again as he fingers and stretches your pussy for him. If you wanted his girth inside of you, you had to be prepared properly. And in all honestly, he’d much rather hear you scream in pleasure than in pain.

 

With your legs spread apart, he has a much easier time feeling for sensitive spots of tissue that’ll drive you insane. And he savors watching you come apart in his arms. Oh, how good you’d look with your tits bouncing in his face, or on all fours beneath him, or with your pretty mouth on his cock. Man, he wants to just rip your tidy uniform right off of you.

 

But this is getting tedious, he needs to be inside of you soon, or he’ll bust a vein on pure imagination alone. And the timing is perfect, because just then, you come all over his hand. When your breathing returns to a relatively normal pace, he pulls his fingers out of you and spreads them apart in front of his face, watching as the sticky stuff stretches apart. “Oh yes.” he claims victoriously, sucking your emission off of his fingers without hesitation.

 

Again, he finds himself doing something he doesn’t usually do. In normal circumstances, he’d just wipe it off somewhere, but he was just so curious about how you tasted. And imagine that, you taste pretty good. And even if you didn’t taste amazing, it would all be worth it anyway because of the blush on your face when he pops his fingers out of his mouth and purrs.

 

Soon after, he maneuvers you to straddle him on the sofa, and indeed, the view of you hovering above him is incredible. Your hot gaze and your arms caging his head, and your changing expression as he slides his hands down your sides. “Give me a hand, will ya.” he smirks at you as he moves his hands down to unbutton his trousers.

 

And when he pulls at his waistband and boxers, he waits patiently for you to reach in and pull his dick out. You hesitate for a moment, trying to glare at him defiantly, but the suspense is killing you. So you reach down into his pants, telling yourself that you’re just relieving your own curiosity.

 

The moment you touch it, the heat almost scalds you. He’s really hard and there’s a smeared spot of precum on the head. Your tongue darts across the seam of your lips and you swallow, getting way too excited for this.

 

“Go on. Put it in.” he spurs you on, that smug look never leaving his face.

 

You blush again and hate yourself for it, but you proceed to do as he says, using the head to push your thong to the side and sink down on him. “Ah… Ah… Ah….” you do your best to keep quiet, but this guy feels bigger than he looks.

 

The ending credits of the movie are over, and the screen has gone back to the bright main menu. And the light perfectly illuminates your blissful expression from the back, like an angel. But when Tendou moves to adjust his position on the sofa, you throw your head down with a harsh breath, moving your hands down to clutch at his shoulders, “Fuck.”

 

Tendou’s deep chuckle in your ear is the only thing distracting you from the pain, “It’s big, isn’t it? I knew you’d love it. You’re going to be screaming for Tendou Satori aaalllll night long, sweetie.”

 

You release a high-pitched moan from the back of your throat as you bite into Tendou’s neck, relishing in his dirty talk. The man beneath you hisses at the sharp bite mark you leave on him, but he really likes it. It’s a good distraction for him to keep from pounding into you just yet.

 

When you experimentally clench your walls around him, he groans in content. And then you’re moving up his length, releasing him back into the cold air, only to suck him right back into your torturous heat. He slips his hands under your skirt to caress your thighs and rest on your butt, loving how delectable your skin feels beneath his hands. It almost beats the insane pleasure of your pussy swallowing him whole again and again.

 

The only thing that would top this off would be if you started begging. You’ve released his neck from your mouth, and now you’re hugging his head to your chest as you rest your own chin on the crown of Tendou’s head. The fabric of your school blouse is rough and in the way, but he can feel the soft plumpness of your breasts underneath.

 

And he can feel your heart beating frantically as you pump up and down on his shaft, never letting his cock feel lonely for more than a second. He can also feel the vibration of your moans as they travel through your throat that’s pressed to his forehead. This is all strangely intimate and satisfying for him, and he doesn’t want this to end. Usually, he’d be chasing his for his climax in a race by pounding into the girl beneath him, but since he’s let you call the shots by being on top and hugging his face to your chest, he’s starting to find charm in this position.

 

At some point, you let go of his head and lean back down to start kissing him again. And soon, you’re lost in the heat and pleasure of each other’s bodies. Tendou only knows one of his friends has finally woken up when he hears him make a noise of distaste before paddling out of the common area. But he doesn’t pay it any mind since he’s too busy making out with you and helping you bring your hips up to keep bouncing on his cock.

 

Besides, it’s not like he hasn’t done this in front of his friends before. Through experience, he’s found that girls often feel more exhilarated when they know that others are watching them being fucked, and they tend to get even wilder. So seeing Tendou fuck someone in the Shiratorizawa common room is no foreign affair. Even you are getting a little bold as you reach underneath your own skirt to rub at your clit.

 

Now, Tendou loves seeing you come undone, but he feels a great need to do it himself. So he lifts one hand away from your plush butt to brush your hand aside and continues your ministrations on your clit with his own. “Tell me, how do you like my cock?” Tendou teases as he rubs his thumb on your little bundle of nerves.

 

You’re breathless but you refuse to let him control the pace, “Can’t say I have any complaints.”

 

“Oh really? With how you’re swallowing me up like this, I’d say you like it more than you let on.” And then, when you’re lifting up again, he pulls his cock out of you so that you land on nothing but the air between his legs.

 

“No.” you squeak before you can stop yourself.

 

“Don’t lie to me, [Name]-chan. I know you love my cock.” he’s whispering against your ear again, unrelenting to the desperate bucking you do against the underside of his shaft. “Just say it. And it’s all yours~” he purrs, pulling his dick back and slapping it against your slit.

 

You try for another agonizing minute (for the both of you) to chase your high just by rubbing up against him, but it’s not enough. It’s just not enough, and you really want to feel his fullness inside of you again. “I want it back.” you mumble against his shoulder.

 

“What was that? I didn’t catch you.” he teases, licking at the shell of your ear.

 

“I want it…” you repeat with gritted teeth. “Your cock. Back inside me.”

 

“Really now? So you do like it.” he feigns innocence.

 

You take a deep breath, “I do. I really like it.”

 

“So tell me exactly what it is you want me to do, [Name]-chan.” he strokes your lower lips with his fingers, making no move to bring his aching cock back inside of you just yet.

 

This time, you pull back, and look him straight in the eyes. You don’t want this going on any longer. “I want you to put your cock back inside of me, Tendou Satori.” The sound of his name on your lips is heart-stopping. “And I want you to keep it in there until I’m done with you.”

 

He’s just staring at you now, in complete awe of how hot you are, even in your fully clothed body. But he’s not moving, so you lean forward to his ear this time, “Did you hear me, Satori-kun? Put your big, fat cock inside of me. Right now.”

 

After being told twice, he can’t possibly ignore you now. Within seconds, he’s balls-deep back inside of you and you’re both sighing in relief. You bounce with increased vigor, refusing to let him get the best of you again, and listen to him whisper more dirty threats into your ear.

 

It’s incredible how you just met today and he already seems to know exactly how to turn you on and get you going. Although you won’t lose to him in that department, because he’s just as hot for you as you are him now. The two of you kiss through both of your orgasms and continue to rock your bodies together even after you’ve come down from your highs.

 

When your mouths separate, there’s a line of spit that connects the two of you. You carefully maneuver your footing to climb off of Tendou and make your way to the bathroom. And Tendou just sits there, cock still out in the open, in complete bliss. His arms are spread out on the back of the sofa and he leans his head down between them, eyes closed and a smile on his face.

 

He kind of knocks out for a little while after that, but he’s woken up by a pillow that’s slammed to his chest, “Put that thing away, Tendou.” Semi grunts in disgust.

 

Tendou stretches his mouth in a dramatic yawn as he pulls his dick back into his pants, “My bad. She was a good one. Left me totally sated even though I didn’t even see her naked.” he shares with an amused smile.

 

“Well she’s gone now. Probably left at dawn.” Semi relays, “There’s no sign of her in here.”

 

“Hm.” Tendou hums, disappointed that he didn’t get to fuck you a few more times. But that feeling that you left him with after he came inside of you was spectacular. At the time, he must have just wanted to savor the moment and didn’t think about anything else.

 

Then he looks down and sees something bright green stuck between his legs. He pulls it up and sees that it’s a thong, still slightly damp, with a phone number scribbled in pen on the fabric. “Well, well, well. Would you look at that.” he smirks to himself as he pockets the thong.

 

Looks like he wasn’t the only one who wanted to relive that incredible orgasm. He has a feeling that he’ll see you again soon. It doesn’t hurt that Seijou has another reason to hate him now too.



Notes:

i had a few more ideas in store for this plotline, but i didn't want to jam it all into just one chapter. so i'll probably write a continuation soon. i'm excited to see this hoe animated, you don't even know. LET'S GO, HAIKYUU S3.

Chapter 5: Bokuto Koutarou - Tastes Like Gold

Summary:

bokuto is the newest regular in japan's national men's volleyball team for the olympic games. and though you're an olympic veteran yourself, you've never seen anyone like him.

 

so i did as much research as i could, but i mainly followed the timeline of women's gymnastics and men's volleyball for rio 2016. and a couple of stats from some other domestic games between different national teams within japan. but keep in mind that i haven't the slightest idea about how all this olympic games organization works. but this is set for the 2022 winter games. i did my best...

Notes:

SO. I DON'T KNOW ABOUT YOU GUYS BUT I'M A DAMN MESS AFTER THAT FIRST EPISODE OF SEASON 3. SO HERE, TAKE THIS BOKUTO MESS AS CELEBRATION. i'm already ready to adopt everyone on the shiratorizawa team. although i had always imagined tendou's voice a little deeper and more condescending, and goshiki's voice to be more high pitched. but what's it matter, i'm gonna fall in love with them all over again anyway. ANYWHO, that's enough chatter from me. please enjoy this chapter

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

If anyone asked Bokuto Koutaro how long he’d been waiting for this opportunity to play volleyball at the World Olympics, they probably wouldn’t get their answer considering how the guy was just a big bundle of rambling emotions. Usually he would give positive answers as feedback, but there were always days in which he felt off his game and just in an off mood in general. It caused him enough trouble with the national team, you could tell that much.

 

Going pro wasn’t always as accommodating to Bokuto as his old high school team was. Back then, everyone and their distant relatives could tell that Bokuto was the ace of his team and that he commanded a lot of the outrageous plays that made him the star of the show. But after joining the national team, the Fukurodani ace had a lot of growing up to do. These were all the best players in Japan, and they were all probably aces back in their own cities, or prefectures even. So Bokuto had to quickly come to terms with the fact that he had to carry his own weight on the team, and control his mood swings as best he could if he was to be on the court.

 

Despite some difficulties adjusting, the owl-like man never gave up, and that gave him some credibility with his new team. They were all crazy good, but he decided to take them on as goals rather than opponents. If he could get as good as any of the guys on the team, then he could get better than them too. And now, several years of sweat, tears, and endless practice later, he’s recklessly bouncing on a plane with his teammates heading off to Beijing to play in his first ever Olympic volleyball game. He was gonna make history. He knew it.


Meanwhile, already having set foot on Olympic Games territory, you’re off exploring the Forbidden City in the small time that you’re allowed free reign before the Games start. If your coach had it her way, she’d be having you give up a couple of hours of sleep to practice more, but obviously, that was unethical and you were legally obliged to have some free time to rest. And you weren’t ever really the super serious type like most of your teammates, so you didn’t waste a second in getting the hell out of that hotel room to explore the ancient city while you could.

 

But you knew, starting tomorrow, playtime was over and it was all training until the Olympics ended. But until then, you were off touring, shopping, and eating until the very last minute of curfew came around.

 

*

 

The first days of the Olympics are the busiest. Everyone is bustling around to get to the different qualifier events for their own countries and there was a seemingly endless amount of competitors. There are judges, referees, commentators, coaches, organizers, and lots of other important figures scuttling around and spitting out different languages to give directions, encouragement, or announcements all over the place.

 

Luckily, despite your carefree attitude, you make it through the women’s gymnastics qualifiers pretty smoothly, quite close to the top in rankings too actually. So after leaving the stadium getting a pep talk from your coaches, words of encouragement for the upcoming team final, and dismissal, you scramble out of the waiting room with your stuff and your friend in tow to run out of the indoor stadium and catch the first taxi you see.

 

“Ah--wait!! [Surname]-chan!!” Your fellow gymnast Honda Chiharu stumbles into the taxi behind you as you show the driver the Chinese name of the Capital Indoor Stadium on your phone. He grunts and nods, understanding what you mean and starts driving.

 

You know that the taxi rate is probably hiked up and that traffic will be a nuisance with the Olympics going on, but there’s no other option if you want to get to Japan’s men’s volleyball match against Korea in time. “[Surname]-chan… I know you want… to see the men’s game… but you could’ve at least told me... before you tried to rip my arm off.” she pants, throwing her head back against the headrest in the taxi.

 

“Oh come on, have some pride for your country! These new players are sure to have a lot of potential this year. I bet they’re gonna blow everyone away.”

 

“Of course I have pride! But I don’t see the big deal. You’re obviously more into the boys playing than the actual sport itself.” Honda always sees right through you. “Shouldn’t you be trying to practice more to aim for gold?”

 

“Look, I think I practice plenty. But I’m just not a lean, mean, training machine like the rest of you are. I need my breaks to keep my mind clear enough to perform properly. And a little eye candy never hurt anyone, okay?” You try to justify your intense eagerness to see some powerful thighs.

 

You get to the Capital Indoor Stadium in little over half an hour, which isn’t bad time considering the scale of events these two weeks. And with your Olympic participant ID badges, you don’t have too much trouble getting into the venue and finding seats as close as you can to the court on the side of the Japanese supporters.

 

The Japanese and Korean national teams are already starting their stretches and warmups, so it looks like you made it in the nick of time. “Yay, we made it!” you cheer, clapping your hands together excitedly as Honda sits calmly beside you.

 

The game commences within the next couple of minutes and you observe each and every player’s stats (read: bodily assets) throughout the first set, which you guys manage to take. It’s a good start, and you notice that although the blockers are still a bit on the weaker side, the attacks are more dynamic this year around.

 

Particularly that one with the spiked grey and white hair. His body doesn’t have anything that would usually stand out to you, but his crosses and straights have been pretty well executed throughout the first set. And his personality seems super energetic, so it’s entertaining to see him interact with his teammates. His jersey says his name is Bokuto, so when the teams switch sides, you quickly look him up.

 

Bokuto Koutarou. Has been training with the national team for three years. But it looks like this is his first official game in the Olympics. His excitement shows too, since he seems to be one of the louder personalities on the team. It seems his catchphrase is “Hey, hey, hey!” as you observe the rest of the game. The more you watch him play, the more endearing he seems. And soon enough, your focus zeroes in on him alone for the last set. You’ve almost forgotten all of the other admittedly more attractive guys on the team, because Bokuto just has a strong presence.

 

Japan wins the game 3-1 and you have new eye candy to look forward to watching. Everybody wins. Now you can just hope that the team will continue to win so you can continue to watch them play.

 

But Honda seems to believe that you need to be reminded of your priorities, “[Surname]-chan, you’re here as a gymnastic competitor, not a fan. We still have training to do, so let’s go practice for the team final first.”

 

“Fine. But can’t we eat dinner first?” You whine.

 

She grumbles at your whiny tone but you do have a point. So you two head back to the Village, since most of the public eating joints are too crowded and you should probably watch what you eat while still in competition for the time being.




Making your way through the enormous dining hall for all the Olympic athletes and everyone accompanying them, you separate from Honda after scanning the entirety of the buffet to cater to your individual diets. She’s more of an organic eater and you prefer to just keep your body satisfied. You know how to work with your body, and letting yourself indulge just a little with each meal helps you work with your psychological satisfaction. So if you want a damn cookie, you’re gonna eat one by all means!

 

As you’re balancing your plate with both protein and veggies and carbs, another tall figure walks up to the same curry that you’ve been eyeing. And heaven behold, it’s Bokuto Koutarou, that super energetic wing spiker, in all his spiky-haired glory. He catches you approaching the same thing, so he puts his arm out to let you go first, “Go ahead.” he says in Japanese, his voice scratchy and deep. Not too different from the one you heard shouting during the volleyball game.

 

“Wow, you’re Bokuto-san?” You look up at him with starstruck eyes.

 

“Eh? You’re Japanese?” his mouth puckers in thought as he looks at you, but gives you a big smile, “But yup, that’s me. Bokuto Koutarou, wing spiker of the national team.”

 

“Cool!!” You gush, “I saw your game today, it was amazing! You got so many straights in, they couldn’t stop you!”

 

He laughs loudly and proudly, punching a fist to his chest, “Well, I have gotten pretty good if I do say so myself. They wouldn’t put me on the court for nothing.”

 

“As expected!”

 

“What’s your name by the way?” he asks you, still smiling. He’s quite dazzling.

 

“[Surname][Name]. Pleased to meet you!” You bow slightly, as not to bend into the food in your hands. But before you can introduce yourself further as an Olympic athlete, someone else comes towards your area for food as well, so the two of you quickly put some curry into your plates and head to a table.

 

“Do you mind if I join you, by the way, Bokuto-san?” You smile brightly, unable to believe your luck to meet your newest eye candy on the day you first see him.

 

“Go right ahead.” He gestures at the seat next to him.

 

The two of you chat and eat for the next ten minutes or so, mostly about him and his team and volleyball. It’s not that he’s conceited or not curious about you, but it’s just that you keep asking him questions because he and his stories are just so entertaining. It’s unbelievable the shit he gets himself into with the team during training. And apparently he was one of the top 5 aces in the country even back in high school.

 

But you two are finally interrupted when a couple of Bokuto’s teammates spot him and sit at the seats set up across from you, “Eh? Bokuto, you know [Surname]-san?”

 

“Hm?” Bokuto looks up, his face stuffed with rice and curry, “No we just met. Do you know her?”

 

“No, but I have seen her at previous competitions in the last few years. Your floor routines are always so amazing, [Surname]-san.” one of the teammates acknowledges you and bows before taking a seat across from you.

 

“Yeah, your routine at the last Summer Olympics was the best! I’m looking forward to it this year too.” the other teammate agrees.

 

You blink, taken aback, before swallowing what you have in your mouth and bowing your head, “Ah, thank you so much for your support. I’ll do my best.”

 

“Whaaat???” Bokuto suddenly stands up, slamming his hands on the table, “You’re an athlete too?!”

 

The taller guy on the team who had spoken to you first sighs, “Bokuto, this cafeteria is full of athletes. It’s the Olympic village.”

 

“Oh. You’re right.” Bokuto sits down again, “Sorry about that. But why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

 

You giggle at his slight pout, “Sorry, guess I forgot. I sounded like such a fan that you must have just thought I was a team manager or something, huh? But anyway, I’m part of Japan’s national gymnastics team. And I’m pleased to make your acquaintance.” you bow your head to him as well as the other two boys at the table.

 

You four chat on about the upcoming competitions and who you’re up against. But even at this social wavelength where you can talk to them casually, Bokuto is the one who keeps your attention. He’s so interesting and tells his stories in such an entertaining way that you want to just keep listening to him and laughing with him. Not to mention how you both can match wavelengths at how easily you change topics.

 

But eventually, your own teammates find you on their way out of the cafeteria, “Ah, there you are [Surname]. We should head out to start evening practice while we still have access to the gym equipment.”

 

“Oh, sure!” You jump up with your tray, “It was nice meeting you all. I’ll try to make it to your next game, so do your best!” You pump an excited fist before pushing in your chair and grabbing your dishes to follow your teammates down the long cafeteria hall.


When you’re out of earshot, Bokuto’s teammates start chuckling and nudging at their owl-haired companion, “Dude, don’t you think [Surname]-chan was super into you?”

 

“Yeah, you guys totally hit it off. You should try to get her number later on.” the other member doesn’t so much encourage his teammate as he taunts him.

 

“[Surname]?” Bokuto furrows his eyebrows in thought, “I don’t know, she’s not really my type. I kinda prefer more…. gentler girls. Like, someone feminine, and kind, who’ll take care of me.”

 

The two volleyball players sitting across from Bokuto exchange an exasperated look that says ‘Is this guy serious?’ So one of them says it, “Bo, have you seen her gymnast body? She’ll take care of you real good.”

 

“Mhm.” the other nods as the two bump their fists together in a synced handshake.

 

“Well I just met her, and she seems nice but maybe a little wild for me. But it doesn’t matter anyway. I have Hayama-chan.” Bokuto waves off the matter, finishing his food.

 

“You mean that model that you’ve been seeing?”

 

“Oh, she’s super pretty.”

 

“I know, right?” Bokuto smiles brightly.

 

“Yeah, but isn’t she an airhead? And kind of a snob? She’s just fucking around with you because you’re a national athlete.” the first guy argues.

 

“But she’s a model, and she’s busy too so she doesn’t mind that much when we can’t see each other that often. Or if I forget to text her back or something.” Bokuto shrugs, seeing no problem with being used for his athletic prowess.

 

He hasn’t dated around too much since he went into professional training straight out of high school, so he isn’t really experienced with romantic things. Not that he really has time for them anyway. But if a pretty girl wants him, and he wants her, he remains loyal. So you are not an option right now, even if he was interested in you.


Okay, he was most definitely interested in you. His volleyball team managed to win their third preliminary game, and since it was held in the morning, his teammates insisted on dragging Bokuto over to the Indoor Stadium to see the women’s individual all-around final that was being held in the afternoon. And man, his friends weren’t kidding when they said your floor routines were incredible. You practically wiped everyone away with your dark hip hop soundtrack and strong somersaults. All of your landings were perfect and your lazy smile gave you a powerful aura to match your routine.

 

That day when you had eaten dinner with Bokuto and his teammates, you guys had mentioned how your routines were often controversial because they weren’t very traditional. Your soundtrack choices always edged away from the classical and smooth instrumentals that artistic gymnasts would usually use. So your wild rhythm and unpredictable movements would often bring about lots of playbacks. Only the younger people were usually more drawn to it, but your skill was unquestionable, so it was really a stylistic choice for the judges. Before it wasn’t really welcomed, but more recently they’ve been becoming more well received.

 

Unfortunately, your competitors were far more advanced than you were in the other events like uneven bars and balance beam, so you were unable to obtain a medal for individual all-around. But the way you handled floor was incredibly different from all of the other events you did. Floor was where your personality came out, and you had room for creativity. That smile you had on your face the entire time did wonders for your stage presence. And it did a number or two on the volleyball ace as well.

 

It was enough for Bokuto to spend the rest of his evening in the hotel on his phone, researching you and your previous performances. It was like a new obsession, because he just kept clicking on the next video, and the next, and the next until his roommate informed him of the time. “You gonna watch [Surname]-chan all night, or are you gonna sleep?” he teases.

 

“Ah! Eh! I--!” Bokuto drops his phone, obviously flustered.

 

“Calm down, Bokuto.” his teammate chuckles good-naturedly, “It’s okay, everyone knows how cool [Surname]-chan is. Now you can join the club.”

 

“Yeah, yeah you’re right.” Bokuto’s eyes suddenly brighten, “I’m gonna cheer so loud for her tomorrow! She’ll totally win gold with my support in the pillars.” he bumps a fist to his chest proudly, as if he would be the sole reason for your next win.

 

“Uh… well the next few days are individual events. Women’s floor, which is usually [Surname]-chan’s main event, isn’t until Thursday. And we’ve got to focus on our own practice and games too.” he reminds the new gymnastics fan.

 

*

 

On the last day of gymnastics events, for women’s floor finals, you win gold. The moment your saw your score pop up across the screen was historical. You’ve never felt your heart swell up this big, you might spill it out of your throat. It’s all a big teary blur of hugs with your coaches, teammates, photos, and national anthems. But the weight of gold hanging from your neck is unmistakable. It’s like an anchor or sorts, keeping you from flying to the heavens in your bliss of victory.

 

After all the cameras are gone and you’re escorted out of the gym with your team, the first people you see are the volleyball players from the national team. They had come to a couple of your previous events if time had allowed, and you had all eaten a couple of meals with each other throughout the rest of the Olympic Games so far, so you were all clearly friends now. But the look of pure pride and Bokuto’s open arms greeting you when you reach the hallway leading back to the waiting rooms, your daze of happiness fogs you up even further when he says, “Congratulations!”

 

“You guys!!” you run up to jump into Bokuto’s arms, clearly not thinking this through but loving how tight his embrace is. In the heat of the moment you kiss his temple and drop to your feet when he loosens his grip. You don’t seem to notice the surprise on his face as he touches the spot you had just pressed your lips against, since you’re just jumping and excitedly gushing to his teammates about your new medal, “Look at this! Do you see this? Can you feel it? It’s so unreal, I can’t believe it!! Ahh!!”

 

“Well believe it, because it’s yours now.” His teammate brings his arms around to hug you as well. “Once again, that was an incredible routine.”

 

“Yeah,” his other teammate who came to watch comments, “But it was kinda different from your usual style wasn’t it? It was still really contemporary, but the music genre was kind of different. So it changed your persona a little.”

 

“Guess the judges really liked it.” the first guy grabs the top of your head to shake it around in lieu of ruffling your meticulously styled hair.

 

“It was the finals, so I thought I’d really try blowing them away.” You giggle, still clutching the medal in your hand as if it might disappear if you don’t hold onto it tightly enough.

 

But soon enough, your team calls you so you bid the volleyball players farewell with promises to watch their next game if you don’t manage to meet up with them later. The guys wave you goodbye before turning to find Bokuto, still in a flushed daze and touching the side of his face. They chuckle at each other before punching Bokuto on each bicep, “Looks like someone got some fanservice. Lucky!”



“Whooooooo!!! Japan!!!! Let’s go!!!” You’re obnoxiously loud next to Honda and a small number of gymnasts and other athletes who decided to accompany you to the men’s semi-finals for volleyball. Amazingly, the Japanese national team managed to make it this far, and since gymnastics events were over, you were free to come show your support. And supportive you were, with the Japanese flag headband tied around your forehead and the large cape-sized flag in your hands.

 

You’re in the front rows with some of the players’ family members and friends, causing a ruckus in the stands. Your friends sit a couple rows behind you, pretending not to be associated with you, but cheering in their own way with fans and mini flags in their hands. Some of them don’t really know all of the rules of volleyball, but you’re too hyped up to explain every play to them, so you let them discuss amongst themselves as you jump in a line of family members and friends with your arms around each other’s shoulders at the captain’s impressive spike.

 

Everyone’s plays are exciting, especially how everything happens so quickly. But Bokuto’s points are always the most exciting, because he’s one of the more excitable ones on the team who makes a bigger show of a scored point. “Hey, hey, hey!!” he’ll shout and sometimes you and the other fans will shout it back.

 

“Totally shut out!!!” You clasp hands with someone’s uncle and jump frantically with him when your team makes an impressive block.

 

But despite how madly you’re all cheering, things don’t really look good for your team. They’re transitioning into the third set already without having even snagged one for themselves. And Bokuto seems to be getting more and more frustrated with this turn of events. He stays quite idle for the first half of the third set. But after talking and hanging out with the volleyball team, you know that his mood swings are quite a common thing (apparently it was even worse in high school, yikes). There’s really nothing you can do, because he’s the type to find his groove again on his own. All you can do is hope he finds it soon.

 

And cheer like you’re crazy. Seriously, you’ve been getting a lot of weird looks, from the spectators, some of the family members cheering next to you, and even some from the opposing team. Well you can’t really help it, you’re hyped up. So sue you.

 

But it doesn’t seem for naught when some of the players on your team turn to glance at you and laugh at your antics, some even waving to you once or twice. If you’re bringing a positive atmosphere that’ll help them play, then nothing can stop you.

 

*

 

“Agh!! We were so close too!” Bokuto cries out in loss at the round table in the Chinese restaurant you and several of your friends and teammates are eating lunch at.

 

“Bokuto… we lost 3-0 in both finals.” the rather spiteful middle blocker of the team deadpans.

 

“But this is closer than we’ve been in years!” Bokuto protests, slamming his hands on the rickety table, prompting his friend sitting beside him to push him back into his seat.

 

It’s true. Japan lost the semi-finals, and then lost the match for Bronze, but it was quite miraculous that that the team managed to improve so much in the past couple of years to make it this far. In the realm where one game could mean the end of everything, all your hard work, thousands of hours of practice, struggle, and training, making it to the semi-finals is already quite a feat in itself. But Bokuto had seemed to be aiming much higher. He wanted to taste the heavy metals that represented victory. Which wasn’t a bad goal to have. You can’t be an Olympic athlete if you’re not ambitious.

 

“Hey, I have an idea.” you pipe up, thinking you know just what’ll help cheer everyone up.


On most teams’ last night in Beijing, there’s usually a big party held at a nightclub, where almost everybody celebrates the conclusion of another Olympic Games. But usually there’s a special venue that’s mainly booked for athletes and their close acquaintances. These nights are usually the craziest of them all, where you get to see even the most stringent players let loose and indulge a little bit. Or a lot.

 

It’s also a night of wild passions, and soon-to-be regrets, and there are people all over the place hoping to get lucky tonight before they head back home and revert back to their rigid training regimes. But like the great majority of the people in the club, you’re here to have a good time with your friends, old and new, and make some good memories to accompany the gold medal that will soon hang from your bedroom wall.

 

You and the other gymnasts (both from your team and others) are greeted at the entrance by a loud, “Hey, hey, hey!!” You turn around and come face to face with Bokuto and the other Japanese volleyball players. And you don’t miss all the grazing looks from most of the boys at your group of girls, Bokuto included. Well, it’s to be expected. Gymnast bodies always take people by surprise when they’re out of their leotards and dressed up in lace and jewelry.

 

“Whoa! You guys look so good!” Bokuto is the only one bold enough to say it aloud.

 

And you’re the only one bold enough to reply, “You guys clean up pretty nicely too.”

 

Yes, Bokuto did look really good in his tight navy button up and black slacks. Simple, but it did so much for him. And most of the boys were dressed similarly, with many different splashes of color.

 

Most of the other girls are done up in cute skirts or dresses, and touched up with killer heels and smokey makeup. You diverged a bit from them with your national colors splayed out on your body; a white midriff top with some cutout stripes to show off some slivers of skin on your back, and some short red shorts, paired with a black belt and black open-toed wedges. You were hoping to dance quite a bit, so you decided to forego the stilettos.

 

“Well, what are we waiting for?” You break everyone’s sticky gazes on each other, “Let’s join in on the fun.” You lead the group towards the entrance, where electronic dance music is bumping loudly in everyone’s ears and chests.

 

Before long, you lose track of everybody you came with, and with all the drinks that you had accepted, you wouldn’t be able to find them anyway. You were a lot more giggly when you were under the influence, so you’re pretty sure you’ve flirted and danced with someone from almost every sport or country. But you’re not looking for anything more than that, because you’re here to dance tonight. It’s only when a familiar figure with a horned styled hairdo approaches you that you make an exception.

 

“You’re a really good dancer.” he yells into your ear so you can hear over all the music in the club, and his look of awe prompts you to giggle and pull his hands to hold onto your hips. He doesn’t seem to be a stranger to the party scene, so he rests them there comfortably. Every sway of your body underneath his touch excites every one of your nerve endings. You wonder if he can feel the electricity pulsing underneath your skin because of him.

 

With your arms around his neck, you bring your face closer and closer, willing him to pull away. But he never does. You’ve long since found out that he’s been having something going on with a model back home, but that wasn’t going to stop you when he obviously felt a similar attraction to you that you did him. And if he’s not pushing you away now, then you’re not going to stop.

 

The moment your lips touch, you feel something similar to a scalding burn shoot through the rest of your body. It puts your body into a shock and you’re unable to take as much control into the kiss as you would have liked. But it seems that you don’t need to worry about that, since Bokuto is the one leaning in closer to you, making the kiss deeper. And soon, he brings his tongue into the picture.

 

Man, this guy worked fast. You liked it. So you let him dig around your mouth for a while, and you two just stand there making out in the middle of the dance floor. It’s a shame that Bokuto can’t hear the moan you mewl, but at least he can feel it traveling from your throat through his own tongue to vibrate into his very core. His pants are starting to feel tighter, but he very much appreciates it when you cling to his neck and throw your legs to wrap around his waist, rubbing your hips against his and somewhat alleviating the discomfort in his crotch.

 

This situation has gone way farther than he had expected it to, and although there’s a small guilt gnawing in the back of his mind to remember he’s still technically seeing Hayama-chan, he can’t help but bring his hands down to your butt to hold your weight up. Oh god, this firm muscle was a completely different world from the supple flesh he’s used to from dating previous girls. But there’s something about your unrivaled strength and ability to hold yourself up without his help that turns him on.

 

And the way your ass wiggles in his hands as you dry hump him is driving him insane. He wants to feel it underneath his own hands without the barrier of clothing, to hear the squelching sounds of your wetness slapping against him, see you naked and bent over in impossible ways with your gymnast body. So that motivation and the fact that you’re wearing shorts gets the volleyball player moving and carrying you out of the club without delay.

 

You giggle madly at his eagerness and efforts in not ever putting you down. So you just let him haul you like a baby in his arms until you reach the fancy hotel two blocks down, his grip and erection never letting up since you put in your best efforts to keep him excited. You two should probably be embarrassed at the scene you cause in parading through the hotel lobby into the elevator, but you like how Bokuto doesn’t seem to give a fuck because of how horny he is.

 

He even holds you throughout the entire elevator ride, where you start making out again until the elevator chimes for the 25th floor. Reluctantly tearing his lips away from yours to focus on getting to his room in one piece, he directs you to dig around his back pocket for the room card.

 

Reaching down, you give him a teasing squeeze and an innocent, “Oops, wrong side.” as he almost collapses halfway down the hall, suppressing his groans as much as he can.

 

Slamming you into the door first, you moan at the pleasurable wave of pain the impact causes against your back. But you go back to your task of pulling out the card key and maneuvering your arm to scan it above the doorknob. And at the sound of the unlocking beep, you press the handle down and Bokuto pushes through it without waiting a second longer.

 

It’s a standard room with two queen-sized beds, and after flicking on the bedside lamp, he falls on top of you on the bed closest to the window. And then he slams your lips together again, pressing against you like you’re all the water he needs after having carried you all the way back to his room.

 

Admittedly, you’re quite surprised. You had a feeling that he was becoming more attracted to you, but you didn’t realize he’d go to such lengths to bring you to a more comfortable place to continue what you had started in the club. Honestly, you were going to settle with sucking him off in the bathroom, so this is above and beyond your expectations. And the way his hips are frantically ricocheting against yours makes you incredibly happy at how much he wants you.

 

“Ah! Bokuto-san!” you call out when he finally pulls away from your mouth to suck at your neck.

 

The sound of his name on your lips gets him going, and he rocks harder against your clothed pussy, agonizingly racing towards his peak until he feels himself come in his own boxers. It’s incredible how fast that was. He usually prided himself in how long he could last, but maybe that was the effect you had on him.

 

As he slows down, you look up at him and ask, “Did you just…?”

 

“Uh… yeah…” he says sheepishly, looking away shyly. But you seem to enjoy the bashful expression in his face, so you waste no time in working to remove his slacks.

 

“Well, we can’t just leave all your efforts in bringing us all the way here at that.” you announce, letting his pants and cum-smeared boxers fall to the floor. The look in your eyes as you take in his impressive size is eager and wild. And he had just finished, so he wasn’t fully hard yet.

 

“So, Bokuto-san,” you take him into your hand to warm him up again, “What was it that you wanted to do so badly that you took the time and effort to carry me all the way here?” You punctuate your sentence with a kitten lick at the head of his cock, making him shiver.

 

Standing before you, as you sit so temptingly at the edge of his bed, stroking him to hardness again, Bokuto wonders if this is one of the perks to Olympic stardom. He gets to fuck other smoking hot athletes. A gold medalist, nonetheless. The white top hugging your tight body beckons to him, and he wants to sees what’s underneath those teasing slits that show a bit of skin. And if he’s going all the way tonight, then those cute red shorts of yours are going to have to go too.

 

“I wanted to see you naked.” he breathes, sure that his eyes are probably blown with black. “Feel… all of you…. Under me…” It becomes harder for him to describe the more he imagines it, because the figure of you in front of him now is gonna get close to it.

 

“Yeah?” you smile, elated with his helpless breathing, “Well, I’d be happy to help with that.” And so you start by pulling your tight top over your torso, revealing the lacey white bra you have underneath.

 

Bokuto helps you pull your shorts down when you unbutton them, and he feels a rush when he sees the matching white panties you’re wearing. And donning those lascivious undergarments is the most lush, muscled body he’s ever laid his eyes on. You’re all smooth lines and firm flesh. He could probably cut open a watermelon on your stomach.

 

Dying to get some skin-on-skin action, Bokuto tears his button-up shirt open and flings it off before running his calloused hands up your body and resting them on your cupped breasts. He lowers his head down to lick a line up your stomach and kiss and suck at the beautiful clean expanse of it. He massages your breasts as he moves his tongue around your torso, leaving soft marks on your stomach, hips, shoulders, neck, every inch he can reach. He wants to pamper your body and memorize as much of it as possible.

 

In turn, you just let him do as he pleases, leaving your fingers to pull at his hair to indicate when he’s doing particularly well. Your moaning soundtrack is also helpful, and a nice motivator. And when he puts his lips on your breast, your back bows and presses tightly against Bokuto’s rock-hard body.

 

This pampering is nice and all, but you want that thick, promising cock inside of you. So you push him off with a tortured moan to take your bra off. And then you turn around on all fours to stick your laced up butt at Bokuto’s direction. When you turn around to see his frozen expression, wondering what to do next, you wiggle your ass at him, “Take them off, Bokuto-san.”

 

In truth, he was actually just admiring your beautiful figure of being bent over on your knees in front of him. If he was lucky, he would be able to see you like this again tonight. But for now, he needs to get these panties off of you so he can get a little taste for himself.

 

There’s a string of wetness that stretches out from your pussy when he pulls the underwear down, and he’s drooling over it. Once the panties are down to your knees, he pushes his face forward to lick up the line of your slit, making you contract in response. Oh, he likes that.

 

So he does it again, but digs his tongue deeper inside of you so that he can feel those wonderful contractions around the hot muscle in his mouth. You taste incredible. And you get wetter by the second as he pushes his tongue around inside of you. He can tell you’re looking for something more, something bigger, by the way you keep pushing against his face to feel him deeper inside you. And eventually, your legs slide off of the bed and your feet land on the ground.

 

Bokuto follows, still wanting to taste you and looking to have you come at least once on his mouth alone. So he uses his fingers to spread your lips apart and thrusts his tongue into the wider opening he creates. You’re lying flat on your stomach, reaching your arms out in front of you to grip at the pillow and sheets sprawled beneath you.

 

Trying to find a way to cope but simultaneously give Bokuto a wider angle, you lift one of your legs to the side and raise it up backwards to rest the front of your thigh on the ace’s shoulder. Like this, Bokuto has a whole new perspective in this right angle of your cunt, and he digs into the new position with impressive gusto.

 

Although it didn’t seem like nearly enough of him inside of you, you finally manage to come when he keeps poking at one particular spot close to your clit. Reaching your peak, you bend your leg that’s resting on Bokuto’s shoulder, stretching yourself open wider and pushing onto his face like you’re trying to asphyxiate him. “Bokuto-san, please…” you whisper into the sheets like a prayer.

 

He grunts and moves his face away from you. You’re about to retract your leg from his shoulder, but he grips your calf and keeps it in the air, proceeding to push his torso against it until your leg is stretched out straight up into the air. So this is the ability of an Olympic gymnast… he thinks. “I think you’ve waited long enough.” he surprises you with the playful tone of his voice. He had seemed so desperate and needy for you at first. Guess he’s finally warmed up.

 

Giving his dick a couple more strokes, he asks if you want him to pull out later, but you reassure him that it’s more than okay for him to come inside of you. So without another second to spare, he keeps his grip on your calf to press your leg against his chest, his other hand holding onto your hip, and slowly inserts himself into your tight, hot, slick entrance.

 

And damn , if he’s ever had sex like this before. Your split legs create an angle unlike any other he’s felt before. It’s like he can feel whole new dimensions and secret passageways inside of you. And he’s keen on looking for every single one of your good spots, learning your every reaction to each one of them.

 

The way Bokuto keeps angling his hips every which way drives you into hysterics, clawing and biting at his sheets to keep your composure. Because you know that if you do, you’ll be rewarded with one of the most spectacular orgasms you’ve ever experienced. The position Bokuto had pulled you into was already tear-inducing, because he’s going in deeper than you’ve ever felt anyone go before. His wide girth did wonders to you, and you were rolling your eyes, sticking your tongue out, and calling his name like he was bringing you to salvation. “Yes, Bokuto!! Yes!! Yes!! Harder, faster… It’s so good…!!” you grovel into the sheets.

 

When Bokuto feels himself about to reach his limit, he regrettably slows down and pulls out, putting your leg down. But quickly, he heeds your call of agony as he flips you around to lie your back on the bed, and pulls your legs up to stretch them into a horizontal split position perfectly perpendicular to your torso, and reinserts himself into your pulsing heat. And this is even better, because he can see you so clearly lying before him, splayed out and desperately wanton.

 

The volleyball player reaches out to pull your hands down to hold your own legs apart, so he can lean down to squeeze your breast with one hand and rub your clit with the other. The stimulation is crazy, and you’re shaking and writhing underneath his touch, arching your back as much as you can to somehow cope with the incredible pleasure Bokuto is giving you.

 

You bash your head back and forth and end up bringing your other leg that had not been stretched upwards earlier up above your head, once again creating an incredibly wide angle for Bokuto to thrust into. He loves your agility and can hardly believe the situation he’s in, helplessly fucking an Olympic gymnast that his teammates have all raved about. You completely exceed his expectations with every passing second he spends with you.

 

The way you’re hugging your leg to you and spreading yourself out wider for him to penetrate you is so beautiful and unreal. You’re so open and welcoming that he just sinks farther and farther into you, feeling like he’s going to end up lost inside you. He never wants to leave, never wants to let go of you.

 

You seem to read into his thoughts because suddenly you bring your spread legs up to rest on both of his shoulders, locking your ankles around his neck. And now, in a complete contrast to how you were spread-eagled for him earlier, it’s like you’ve completely closed around him and swallowed him whole, trapping him inside of you. “Oh god…” you moan, bowing your head back so he can only see the beautiful expanse of your throat.

 

With your hips still suspended in the air, he supposes he should do more of the work. So he takes hold of your sharp hips and continues to ram his dick inside of you to the best of his ability. And although this position is a little more stifling, he feels nothing but your walls squeezing tightly around him. He doesn’t understand how it’s possible to feel this good building up to only one orgasm. He’s never been more thankful for his endless libido. He wanted to learn and feel and kiss you so much more. You’re a completely new world to him.

 

And you can’t help but feel the same. You’ve never been with a guy who’s been able to hold out this long. Once you spread one leg up, he’d pop his load within the next couple of minutes and be unable to try anything else that evening. Bokuto is inhuman in comparison to those duds. He’s as energetic in bed as he is on the court, which you’re outrageously happy about.

 

With your ankles locked around the back of his neck, and your walls wrapped tightly around Bokuto’s sweet, fat cock, you’re bombarded with an enticingly full feeling. He’s completely filled the deepest depths of you, and you never want him to leave. Each thrust he makes into you is like a new shot at your nerves, sending your mind into a frazzled state that you’re not sure you can bring yourself back from.

 

He had long found your g-spot, and you had probably passed through a couple of mini-orgasms that would have destroyed you had Bokuto not pulled out or switched his position in the middle of it. But now, you can see the furrowed eyebrows donning the ace’s face, and you can telling he’s trying to hold himself back so that this will last as long as possible.

 

You’re incredibly touched when he pushes down to kiss you again, not to mention totally consumed with pleasure at the new angle he pushes into you. Your ankles come apart, but your legs are still pushed back by Bokuto’s shoulders, and he continues to pound into you as you make out in this position.

 

Pushing into yet another angle without rest, he completely wrecks you from the inside out and you’re blinded for a long minute as you stay at your peak for a while, pulsing around Bokuto’s thick cock. And when he finally reaches his peak as well, your cum mixes together like the spit moving between your mouths as he tongues at you.

 

When he pulls out of you, it’s one of the saddest moments of your life. You’re spent, covered in sweat and Bokuto’s scent, and a mixed cocktail of your cum is dripping all over your thighs. He had shot quite a load into you, you had wondered if he had any liquid left in his body.

 

Bokuto collapses onto his back beside you and catches his breath. He still looks as handsome right now as he had earlier tonight. His rock-hard body had been like a taste of heaven. You wanted to taste and feel and learn more about him. He had obliterated your body in his search for all of its secrets. You wanted to do the same for him.

 

Judging by the look on his face as you stroke his length again, he’s eager to please. “One more.” he says, like he does whenever he encourages his team to score another point. You don’t know when this game tonight is going to end, but you’re willing to score as many points as he wants.

 

And for the rest of the night, you two are in incredibly impossible positions, one after another. And you have orgasms one after another. Both of you are dumbfounded at how the other can keep up with their sexual drives, but it goes on nonstop. And even though you’re fairly certain that you’ve tasted every inch of Bokuto Koutarou by sunrise, you still want more.

 

His roommate must’ve been caught by surprise, to say the least, when he walked into the scene of you hanging upside down with your legs split in a perfect line in Bokuto’s grip, with him hugging your waist as he ate you out, and you returning the favor in sucking him off in your overturned position. It was impressive that he could still hold your weight up like that after so many hours of fucking, and that he could probably still go on for another hour or so if he didn’t know that his roommate was waiting to get his stuff. They did have a flight to catch later that day, after all.

 

So after letting you clean up in his bathroom (regrettably he didn’t join you in the shower because that would have defeated the purpose of it), you leave Bokuto’s room with a last kiss and promise of contact when you both return home to Japan. You don’t run into Bokuto’s roommate on your way to the elevator and out of the hotel, but that’s because he had been hiding out in the hallway so that he could run into the room and demand his friend for the details once the time came.

 

Alas, the young ace was fast asleep, and he was too groggy throughout the rest of the day, through lunch and the plane ride, to tell any of his teammates about his sexual escapades with the national gymnastic team’s floor gold medalist. So the team had to go with what Bokuto’s roommate had accidentally witnessed and speculate from there.

 

It was only after regular practice had resumed that Bokuto revealed that he broke up with Hayama the model and was now regularly seeing you during your free days every week.

 

… And having a shit ton of amazing sex, Bokuto had generously admitted. He could go on forever about how amazing you were with your incredible body, but that was like a special secret he learned to keep for his own self satisfaction. Truly, dating an Olympian was something else.

Notes:

guys, leave me a comment. or talk to me. suffer with me. we're in this for another 9 weeks, come on.

blushinggray.tumblr.com

Chapter 6: Terushima Yuuji - Got What You Need

Summary:

this might be a bit overdone but terushima just fits so well with the fuck buddy plot, ya know?

Notes:

got a comment recently (yay!!!) asking for terushima and i'm a people pleaser so voila. i took this out of my closet and vamped it out a little, so go get your fill of some terushima dick, you sluts.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

"Man... we could still be playing games right now if it weren't for those Karasuno guys..."

"Yeah... I'd rather be trying those new plays than sitting here for physics."

"And that girl with the glasses was a total babe, ugh! I can't believe I didn't manage to get her contact." Terushima slouches further down into his seat, letting his head hang down over the back of his chair.

"What's it matter? You have [Surname] already."

"[Surname]? What do you mean I have her? She's just a friend."

"I thought you guys were together already."

"What are you talking about 'already'? We're friends and that's it." Terushima says with a plain look on his face.

Bobata raises an eyebrow own confusion, "But I saw her sucking your wang in the bathroom once."

That's when Terushima sputters and sits up in his seat, "You seemed to enjoy it on more than just a friendly level." his friend wags his eyebrows.

"Whoa you serious?" Futamata asks incredulously, "Dude, she's super cute. What a catch."

"I know, right? Damn she'd be hella pretty lowered down in fro--"

"Hold up!" Terushima brings himself out of his shocked stupor to stop them from continuing to imagine something that really only he should be able to imagine, "When the hell did you see this happen?"

"Huh? I don't know, maybe a few weeks ago? It was around the time spring high prelims started."

"Guh..." Terushima clenches his teeth. If you found out that somebody knew about you guys fooling around privately...  "Okay, okay dude! You can't tell anyone what you saw, got it? She'd kill me if she found out."

"Huh? What's the big deal? If you're together in more ways than one then all the better, right?" Bobata hits Terushima in the chest with the back of his hand, smirking.

"That's the thing." he says in a panicked hush, "We're not together. We're just friends. And what you saw is just a secret thing between us. You can't tell anyone, I mean it."

His friends are taken aback at how serious Terushima is about this. It's an interesting side of him for them to see since it involves a girl. Usually he's always playful and in it for fun when it came to those kinds of things.

"Wait so how often does this thing between you happen?"

"I'm not entitled to say. But, between you and me, she's not the type to wear thigh highs just because she likes to. So if you see them on her, it's probably to hide her knees." he smirks, looking out the window.





Terushima [9:12]: what are you doing during third period?

[Surname] [9:20]: I'll be in class. what else

Terushima [9:21]: go to the bathroom instead

[Surname] [9:21]: -______-

Terushima [9:21]: :)
Terushima [9:22]: specifically the one on the third floor in the art wing

[Surname] [9:24]: we'll see



You dip out of the classroom two minutes before the bell rings for third period to start. You’d rather just show up late to class than attract attention by leaving in the middle of it and raising suspicions with how long you’d be gone.

 

Honestly, you didn’t have to comply to Terushima’s wishes because he’s probably only calling you in for a quickie to get himself off, but what can you say? You’re a people pleaser. And okay, maybe you wanted a little bit of cock in your mouth after having missed out for a good two weeks due to his spring high training and competitions. (Well, with Terushima’s size, you’d be getting more than a little but the details are whatever.)

 

You stay in the bathroom for two minutes after the bell rings until you’re sure that all of the hallways are cleared. You can’t afford to have stragglers or hall monitors catching you skipping third period. Sucking dick would not be a valid excuse to feed someone who caught you. Peeking out the door once more just to be safe, you step out of the hallway and turn down towards the stairway that goes into the art wing of the school.

 

Casually, as if you hadn’t just stepped out of another bathroom in the school, and acting like you don’t even notice the boys’ sign plastered on the door, you step into the small hallway and disappear behind the tiled wall that blocks the urinals and stalls from view.

 

“I’ve been waiting.” There he is, in all his confident glory. Head leaning back against the wall separating stalls, hands in his pockets, one leg casually crossed over the other; the epitome of lazy, cool guy knowing he’s about to get the lay of his life. Pushing off of the walls, he steps towards you and takes only one hand out of his pocket to lean beside your head against the wall behind you.

 

Unphased by his confident smirk, you flick your ponytail off your shoulder behind you, “Let’s make this quick. I’m not looking to make this a habit.”

 

You crouch with your legs spread out to balance yourself on your ankles instead of leaning your knees on the ground like you usually would. Terushima doesn’t know what to make of this. Won’t you get tired that way? Or do you think that he’ll come fast enough that you don’t have to worry about it?

 

“Hm. Out of long socks today?” he teases as you make good work of his zipper and pull him out of his boxers nimbly. You huff in response and the air does him well.

 

Just to get him hard, you leave your hands to rest on your lap and maneuver your head around to suck his head into your mouth for a good minute. Your tongue digging around his slit gets him up and firm in no time. Then you lick down the side of his length and lift his shaft up with your hand so you can lick and suck at each of his balls. The intense heat and weight in your hand and mouth make the feel of him taste even better than you anticipated. And Terushima’s strained grunts and sighs as he looks down at you eggs you on.

 

Soon, you’re sliding him slowly into your mouth in a straight shot until he touches the back of your throat. Before you go down further, you raise your eyes to look up into his. He sucks in a sharp breath as he pulls the hairband out of your ponytail to card his fingers through your beautifully silky hair, needing something to hold himself to the ground.

 

Gripping his thighs with your hands to keep your balance, you keep your gazes locked on each other as you push him in deeper, deeper into the depths of your throat, as if you have no gag reflex at all. You’ve done this enough times to deal with the inability to get air down. Sometimes, a nice cock tastes better than oxygen. You suck your lips in around his hilt as you pull back again, squeezing another sharp gasp out of the volleyball captain you’ve got bent at your will.

 

After a couple more slow sucks and bobs, Terushima starts to use his own strength to pull your head onto him of his own accord. He releases a helpless moan as he leans his head back at how good you feel swallowing him whole, bringing you down to bob against him faster.

 

It’s only when you moan a little bit that he remembers something. You’re only here because he requested for you to come today. You have no intention of getting off yourself. Well that’s just not fair.

 

“Baby,” he runs an affectionate hand through your hair, “Do me a favor and touch yourself.”

 

Your eyes had been closed for a little while because you had been thoroughly enjoying yourself and the mess you were making of this little volleyball champion. But you’ve been brought back to attention with his sudden request. You think it over for a second but eventually shake your head as much as you can with his cock still in your mouth. “Mm-mm.” You hum, for good measure.

 

“Ughhh….” Ooh. He must’ve felt that. “Come on, baby. I want you to feel good too. And I wanna know how good you feel. Use your pretty voice to show me.” he reaches down to squeeze one of your breasts. It’s obvious he wants you to moan into his dick if you were to touch yourself. But that’s not happening. Not today.

 

You moan nonetheless, and take his balls into your fingers to play around with them as you continue bobbing on him. He’s getting close so he can’t try to convince you further. To prevent a mess from spilling, you keep him inside of your mouth and swallow as much as you can and then pull off of him to spit the last spurts into the sink. You must’ve done a damn good job because he sure shot out a good pint or something.

 

You rinse your mouth and wash away any more evidence on the sink with the water as Terushima catches his breath, leaning against the wall. Inspecting your face in the mirror, you decide that there aren’t any noticeable marks. Your lips aren’t that red, so you should be able to go back to class like this.

 

Walking over to Terushima again, you tuck him back into his boxers and zip him back up, giving his crotch a pat before pulling your hairband off of his wrist to tie your hair back into its ponytail.

 

“Oh baby, that wasn’t fair.” he pouts, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind, leaning his chin on your shoulder and looking into the mirror at your reflection as you pull your hair together. “I wanted you to feel good too. Maybe I can take care of that right now.” he moves one hand down your thigh to the hem of your skirt but you stop him just as he’s about to move in underneath.

 

“Not now, Terushima. I appreciate the thought, but I am not going through the rest of the school day with damp panties.” You pull away from his grip and turn around to graze his chin with your finger, a smart smirk gracing your lips, “You’ll make it up to me later.” Without warning, you slip your index finger past his lips into his mouth until you touch a small jewel of metal, “I want to feel that tongue ring inside of me later.”

 

Terushima closes his eyes and pulls you closer by the hips, an almost pained moan rumbling through his throat as he sucks on your finger in his mouth. Just the thought of putting his mouth on you after all this time, especially after that spectacular blow job you just gave him, gets him riled up and excited.

 

You take your finger back with a pop out of his mouth and give a teasing smile as you put the digit into your own mouth, and then just prance out of the boys bathroom as if you hadn’t just sent him into another frenzy of heat. He groans. School can’t be over fast enough.





“Ahh… Yu-kun…” There it was. That secret little nickname you called him when it was just the two of you, in private, dark places, and he was sending you off to Elysium and back.

 

Terushima was currently thrusting you into your sixth or seventh orgasm of the evening, in maybe the tenth or eleventh position you’ve switched into. He’s probably fucked and sucked and licked and bit into every inch of you tonight. How either of you weren’t spent was beyond your coherent thoughts. If he was still ready to go, you were ready to oblige.

 

That’s probably why you guys had lasted this long with this sexual relationship you had. You both had enough energy to satiate each other’s unquenchable sexual thirsts. You’ve been with a couple of guys before, and lord knows where Terushima’s been, but it was hard for your previous conquests to keep up with either of you. When the two of you had first discussed it, it had just been a joke, but this agreement has been working out wonderfully since you’ve started.

 

“Yu-kun…” you whine. He was currently on both of his knees and was holding onto the one thigh that was hooked over his shoulder to keep you up as he continued thrusting into you. He loved this. You were so open, so raw, so ready for him, and oh-so compliant underneath his touch. “Oh yes, Yu-kun. Yes.” you gasp as you bounce against him.

 

“Ugh, you feel so good.” he groans. And that’s the truth. No matter how many times he fucks you, you still squeeze him hot and tight enough to make him never want to leave your insides.

 

You come first and just a minute later, he spills himself inside of you for the nth time that evening. Finally spent, he pulls out and gently lays your leg back down on the bed, leaning down to lazily kiss you for a little while before resting beside you. “My god, that was fantastic.” he breathes blissfully, eyes still closed.

 

“Well yeah. You went all out.” you chuckle, stretching your sore muscles before getting up to jump into his shower. Terushima seems too spent to join you, so you clean up in peace before you head back to his living room where all your study materials had been spread out.

 

After Terushima steps out from his own shower, he leans over to see you taking a practice test, “You’re already studying for those?” he asks.

 

“Terushima, I’m a third year now. I need to start studying if I want to get into the right university.” You remind him. The boy was still a second year, but even if he did have the pressure of exams coming up, he’d still have enough energy to play around.

 

“Which one were you thinking of?” he asks from the kitchen, where he begins dinner prep. His parents had said they weren’t coming back for dinner tonight, so he only had to feed two tonight. Fried rice and a stir-fry dish seemed good enough.

 

“Somewhere in a city. I want to be in a big, bustling area with lots of fun things to do!” You smile brightly at the thought of busy streets and big festivals.

 

“Why go into the city? I can show you some big and bustling fun right here.” he winks, and you roll your eyes.

 

“This is serious, Terushima. You ought to think about these things too. You can’t just keep fooling around and throwing volleyballs around willy-nilly forever.” You scold him.

 

“You never seem to have a problem with me throwing volleyballs around when you’re in the stands with your pom poms.” he retorts with a smirk. “Or when I’m throwing balls and fooling around with you.”

 

You huff in exasperation. This is how you guys always were. It always started with you scolding him like a mom over something and him making some lewd comment like he was incapable of thinking of anything other than volleyball and sex. And then you would start bickering over nothing. Sometimes you felt more like his older sister than his fuck buddy.

 

“Anyway, I want to be in a new area. See new things, meet new people. It’s just something to look forward to. I don’t really care where I go so long as I get to explore something new.” you ramble thoughtfully as you continue looking through your test booklet. Terushima just smiles before turning back to chopping up some vegetables.





“Hey Terushima, I can’t come over tonight. I’ve got some club activities I need to help out with after practice today.” you announce to him as you pass by his classroom.

 

“Hm? Oh, okay then.” Terushima nods easily.

 

“See you later.” You continue on your way down the hall to get down to the track field, where your cheerleading club was getting ready.

 

When you’re out of earshot, Terushima’s teammate turns back to him, “Dude, are you sure you guys aren’t a thing?”

 

“Will you get over that? We’re not. We’re just friends who help each other in times of need.” he puts a hand to his chest as if to sound more philosophical.

 

“Is that why she was going to ‘come over’ tonight?” his other friends wiggles his eyebrows, “How often does this happen?”

 

Terushima sighs, “Chill guys, we don’t live too far from each other. Sometimes we study together. And yes! We do actually study. Without doing anything else sometimes.”

 

“Sometimes.”

 

“Yes. Sometimes.” Terushima deadpans, “It’s usually when my family’s there the whole time.” he adds quietly.

 

Fists rain down on the volleyball captain, with all sorts of shouts like “You sly dog!” “Lucky bastard!” “What a monster.”

 

After laughing and pushing them off, Terushima settles back into his seat. “But seriously though.” Futamata remarks, “You’re volleyball captain and she’s cheerleading captain. You guys would be like, the school power couple.”

 

“Yeah! Like those American high schools! You guys would be the king and queen of that prom thing they have.” Bobata agrees.

 

“Calm down, guys. I keep telling you, it’s not like that.” Terushima sighs, “We’re just friends. And I don’t think that’s going to change. She’s got college prep to worry about. And we’ve got to find a new way to beat Karasuno next time!”

 

“Yeah, totally!” they were quick to follow his lead. And soon enough, they’re discussing how intense practice is going to be from here on out.







Terushima manages to catch you leaving your club room at the same time that he’s about to leave the campus on a whimsical day, so he calls out to you, “Yo~!”

 

“Ah, Terushima.” you smile when you see who it is. “It feels like it’s been a while since I’ve seen you. Did you just finish practice?”

 

“Yeah. You too?”

 

“Mhm, it’s been getting chillier now since winter is getting closer. So I think I’m going to have to find us a room to practice in soon.” You explain as he falls into step beside you.

 

The two of you chat casually, with him joking around and you reprimanding him for not taking some important things seriously. But when the two of are about to reach the gates, you make to turn towards another building, “Sorry Terushima, I’m heading this way. I’m helping out my friend in the theatre club with their upcoming musical.”

 

“Aw really?” he pouts just the slightest, “I was hoping that you could come over today so we could hang out. It’s been a while.” his playful tone and quirking eyebrows give away his intentions.

 

“Sorry. Some other time. I’ll see you later.” And with that, you wave him off and head towards the school’s auditorium.



+



“Yo, did you and [Surname]-senpai break things off? She’s been hanging around with that one theatre dude a lot lately. I always see them eating lunch together nowadays.” Futamata brings up the topic when he spots you with your cheerleading club stretching as some of the guys head to their own volleyball club practice.

 

“[Surname]? First of all, we’re not together. We’re friends, I keep telling you.” Terushima sighs, “And what does it matter? She can hang out with whoever she wants. She’s been helping the theatre club with a musical or something.”

 

He says that, but it does surprise him when he sees you walking out of the auditorium with some guy, probably the one that Futamata had mentioned, and you guys are giving shy looks to each other.

 

He had returned to campus to pick up something he forgot, but on his way back to school, he spots the guy hesitantly bringing your hands together. Your face freezes up and turns red before you turn away from him shyly to hide your giddy smile.

 

That’s a new side to you that Terushima doesn’t often see. You look so much younger and cuter than the strong leading female character you always pulled off. It’s so unlike the sisterly and responsible side you often direct at him. Was it true after all, that there was something going on between you and this guy? He did seem to have an effect on you and he was obviously reciprocating the lovey dovey look that you had.

 

Huh. Well who would’ve thought? You didn’t seem to go after the theatre types. You were a popular face at school, a leader in both academic and physical accomplishments. Always placed in at least the top 30, cheerleading club captain, a good name shared among peers and teachers, a well respected upperclassmen, one of the prettier faces in the school, and of course, a powerhouse of a woman. Everyone knew that you didn’t take shit from anyone, and that you could be intimidating in that way sometimes. You were one of the few people who could put Terushima’s dumb ass in his place, and that’s probably why he was so interested in you to begin with.

 

Now the thought of you walking hand-in-hand with some quiet drama type guy, blushing and giggling, is one that makes him blink and wonder if he had actually seen what he thought he had seen. But there’s no mistaking that bright laugh of yours when Theatre Boy says something that must’ve been funny or something. When you two disappear out of the school, Terushima goes back to his errand but with intrigued thoughts. And a slight burning in the back of his head.

 

It’s strange, how he felt like the world around him had lit up with your shy smile. Like the street lamps had gotten maybe a little brighter, or he could see the stars more clearly after witnessing the blush dusting your cheeks. But simultaneously, when he remembers you laughing so sincerely at something that guy said, there was a tinge of hurt somewhere. An uncomfortable pull at his chest. Strange…





It’s only a few days later when you show up to his house after texting him. Usually, he would take this as an invitation to fool around with you under the sheets all day, but he notices your determined look the minute he opens the door. And it’s not mixed with anything that might resemble want for him. “Hey Terushima.”

 

When you’re seated in his room with him, you don’t waste any time as not to give him any wrong ideas, “So, I’ve started dating Mikoshiba-kun.”

 

“Your friend from theatre club that you’ve been helping?” Terushima smirks, as if he knew something was going on from the beginning.

 

“Yeah. It’s probably not a great idea. To start dating someone when college entrance exams are just months away. But I really like this guy. He’s really nice, and passionate, and it feels like he sees the world so differently. We kind of just clicked, and I thought I’d take a chance, you know?” You ramble before coming to a stop and clearing your throat when you see Terushima’s amused look and raised eyebrow, “Anyway, what I came to talk to you about is that we should probably stop this thing we have going on.”

 

Terushima closes his eyes and shrugs, ignoring the same strange pang in his chest that he felt the other night when he saw you two together, “I understand. You have a new beau, so maybe you shouldn’t be fucking around with your much handsomer and cooler kouhai.”

 

“Terushima.” you take on your scolding tone again.

 

“I’m just kidding!” he holds his hands up in surrender, “I’m kidding! But seriously, I understand. You must really like this guy if you’re willing to give up all of this.” he gestures at his body, which is admittedly, quite godsent.

 

And then something close to life-changing happens. You smile at him. As corny and disgusting as that sounds, he’s never seen that kind of gentle and touching smile directed at him before. It’s almost enlightening. He’s taken aback at how he can suddenly feel his pulse in his ears and a heat in his cheeks. “Thanks, Terushima.” Oh fuck, did you just sparkle? Maybe he needs help.



+



After you and Terushima cut off sexual ties, you hardly see each other outside of school when you happen to pass by each other. Despite the short encounters, they’re different now somehow. Terushima’s body awakens and his face lights up, and he suddenly feels like he can get through the rest of the day fine. He has a good idea about this weird change in dynamic between you two, but he chooses to ignore its budding existence.

 

Or at least he tries to. Maybe it’s his timing that’s either really awful or really perfect. Or fate that keeps these encounters happening. On a long jog one day around a lake nearby, Terushima runs past dozens of people. But he slows down when he sees a familiar uniform by the small dock. When he comes to a stop at the top of the staircase that leads down to the wooden walkway of the lake for pedestrians, he’s sure it’s you.

 

You’re wearing your cheerleading uniform. Were you skipping practice? Judging by the flirty giggling and hugging you’re caught up in with that same guy Terushima saw you with that night, yeah, you were skipping practice to canoodle with your boyfriend.

 

He must have skipped his club activities too. You guys are so lovey dovey it almost sickens him, with how he rocks you around in his arms and how your hands are laid so gently on his chest. And the look in your eyes as you gaze up at him and he down at you. It’s gross. But… you’re so beautiful.

 

“Terushima? What are you doing?” Some of his volleyball club members have caught up to him. When Futamata follows his gaze, he makes an understanding sound. “Wow, it’s weird seeing them like this. [Surname]-senpai doesn’t even look like her usual self.”

 

Theatre Boy comes even closer to you, leaning you against the wooden railing of the dock so he can kiss you deeply. Terushima doesn’t know why he doesn’t look away. The sight of the entire thing is enough to hit him like a car crash. His face drops with his stomach, and the uncomfortable pull he’s felt the past couple of weeks when he saw you with Theatre Boy has twisted into something heavy, something painful.

 

And when he realizes why his body is responding this way, he runs.

 

“O-Oi! Terushima!” His teammate runs after him.

 

He runs off and away from the sight of you two together. His casual jog has turned into an all out sprint, and the members who had managed to catch up to him earlier are forgotten in his blaze of hurt, jealousy, fury, longing, all of those emotions that so clearly tell Terushima that he’s in love with you. And that you’re in love with someone else.



+



It’s been a while since you’ve come to see him at his house. Two and a half months to be exact, but it’s not like Terushima’s counting. And he only realizes further how he’s totally in love with you by the way he acts like he’s okay when you’re just talking and eating snacks in his room, as if he’s not in anguish over the fact that he can’t touch you like he used to. He just wants to continue seeing you happy, and being in your life, even if he can’t contribute to it.

 

You’re babbling about how you’re so relieved that the college entrance exams are over, but worried about the results for the individual university exams you took. With your grades and accomplishments, it’s no question that you’re aiming to go to Tokyo. It hurts him in many ways, that you’re leaving him for somewhere far away, where there are bigger opportunities, better people, and the new experiences that you so crave for. And all he can do is encourage you.

 

Even if you were dating that theatre club guy, you were still within his reach. But come April, you may be gone for who knows how long. There’s no guarantee that you’ll maintain your friendship forever, and Terushima might have to just learn to get over you. But he only further proves to himself how strong his feelings are for you by the way he ignores all those impending fears, and just tries to enjoy his remaining time with you.

 

However, he doesn’t fail to notice your hesitant movements the entire time you’re talking to him. You carry on with the conversations as usual, but there’s just something… off about your posture, or how your gaze flickers around, or how you seem to want to say something the entire time. Something…

 

It’s when Terushima brings up your boyfriend that you make a sign of revealing what you’re thinking. “Are you still going to date that theatre club guy when you both go to college?” he asks.

 

“Oh, Mikoshiba.” Your eyes flash for a moment, “Yeah, probably. We’re going to give it a try.”

 

“I see. He must be a cool guy then. You guys will be lucky if you manage to go to school together in Tokyo.” he comments.

 

“He is pretty cool. But… there is one thing…” You trail off for a moment. “Just one thing that he doesn’t have.”

 

Terushima laughs at that, feeling almost triumphant that your boyfriend has some sort of fault. “And what’s that?”

 

You hum for a moment, staring up into the ceiling before speaking again, “Well, that’s kind of the reason why I came here today… I wanted to ask you… for a favor.”

 

The volleyball captain blinks, mainly at your uncharacteristic hesitation. If you ever wanted to ask him something, you would just come out and say it. It was kind of a seniority thing, but it was also just how you were with him. You were direct and open about everything. He doesn’t know how he feels about this softer, hesitant side you’re showing.

 

“What kind of favor?” he inquires.

 

When you turn to look straight into his eyes, you’re starting to look familiar again, “A sexual one.”

 

“Oh.”

 

If he wasn’t in love with you, then he would have just made some sort of joke about how your boyfriend can’t satisfy you like he can. But since he definitely is in love with you, he’s completely floored that you’re coming back to him. And secretly thankful to whatever deity it was that made that theatre bastard celibate or sexually dissatisfying or whatever it was that brought you back to him.

 

“Of course, you’re free to decline.” You quickly pull yourself back at Terushima’s dumbfounded reaction. “I was just… you know…”

 

“Of course I’ll help you.” he does his best to save the situation by trying to sound cocky, but it’s clear that there’s a bit of a heavy atmosphere. But like hell he’s going to let this opportunity to have you in his arms again slip away. So opening his arms to you, he beckons for you to advance, “Come here, baby. I’ll take real good care of you.”

 

“Yes.” you smile softly, but seductively, grateful that Terushima’s being so flexible to the idea of you cheating on your boyfriend.

 

You crawl over to his end of the bed on all fours and reach your neck up to kiss him like that. Terushima rests his hands on your shoulders for a moment, letting your lips get reaccustomed to each other. But as the stud in his tongue brushes against the seam of your lips, your body melts in compliance to his strong arms.

 

He pulls you up against his chest, kissing you fervently as if to make up for whatever Mikoshiba must be lacking. He’ll remind you exactly why he was the one who fucked you for months, for hours on end. He’ll prove to you that he’s everything that you need but won’t find in that drama boy who stole you from under his nose.

 

In minutes, you’re pliant and helpless against the feeling of Terushima’s tongue ring drilling through your pussy like he’s digging for gold. The sound of your whines and moans of his name drive him to thrust his tongue in deeper, to suck on your clit harder, to draw out the strongest essence of your taste. His moan travels deep into your core, moves up your spine until you’re shaking and crying out his name in your orgasm.

 

And soon after discarding the rest of your clothing, Terushima’s got you on all fours where you belong, and making his insertion a quick affair. It’s been far too long since he’s been inside of you, and it’s like he’s finally been relieved of an incredible crime that he was accused of. Because honestly, being denied of the privilege to feel your insides or caress your skin or smell your scent lingering in his sheets might as well be a crime.

 

He makes the first thrust a harsh one, almost sending you flying into his pillows if he didn’t have such a firm grip on your hips. “Ah! Yu-kun!”

 

Ah, there it is. The pet name you saved only for the moments you were connected like this. He’s missed this intimate contact between your bodies. And he can only hope that you have too. He won’t kid himself into thinking that you asked him for this favor because you missed him and his hot body. Your boyfriend was probably lacking in this specific aspect that Terushima excelled in, despite how he may be perfect in any other way.

 

As much as he doesn’t want to think about this, he can’t help the bubbling emotions making their way into his head. This shouldn’t be right. It’s not. But what does he care? He doesn’t even know the guy. He doesn’t owe him anything. You’re the one who came to him, after all. If he’s lacking in areas that Terushima can fill for you, then by all means, he’s ready to drop everything to have you in his arms again, even if only for a night. Or for an hour.

 

And he’ll show you just how capable he can be right now. Pulling your thighs up to hug his hips, he orders you to lock your ankles together. And when you do, Terushima revels in your screams as he pushes far deeper into you, reaching spots inside of you that you had forgotten existed without him around. “Ah, yes! Yes, Yu-kun!” You sob into his pillows, unable to cope with how marvelous he feels inside of you.

 

The orgasm that rushes through every cell of your body is absurdly unlike any you’ve had in a long time. And it’s decorated perfectly with the warmth you feel as Terushima spurts inside of you.

 

You whine as Terushima pulls out of you and turns you onto your back so he can kiss you. “Mm, thank you, Terushima.” you hum after he pulls away, “I needed that.”

 

But when you move to get off of his bed and start grabbing at your clothes, he’s surprised that you’re just going to settle for that. “Wait, you’re leaving already?”

 

“Yeah, I think I should. This was really awful of me to do to Mikoshiba, but I just really needed it, you know?” you admit.

 

But Terushima isn’t ready to let you go just yet. Taking hold of your wrist, you look up at him curiously, “Well you’re here anyway. You might as well get your fill.” he smiles with insistent eyes.

 

When you don’t make any further moves to redress, he pulls you into his arms again and doesn’t waste a moment to start kissing you. And eventually, you drop everything that you had picked up and let yourself be whisked into Terushima’s arms that bring you right back to his bed. And for the next couple of hours, as he literally fucks you into tomorrow, he can’t help feeling that this is where you belong.



+



The two of you don’t have an encounter like that for a while, but you still occasionally contact each other while you’re starting your first year of university. You’re attending one of the many schools in Tokyo, as expected, and you’re absolutely loving the change of scenery. You tell him all about your new friends, favorite places to hang out, and how you’ve joined the a new student organization since they don’t have cheerleading activities at your school.

 

He receives postcards from you now and then, and he tapes them to his walls, happy to have reminders that you’re thinking about him, even though you’re so far away. And although he tells you that he’s putting all his energy into his volleyball activities to find a way to battle Karasuno again, he does secretly put some time into his studies as well, in hopes of getting a favorable score in his college entrance exams.

 

Look at what you’ve done to him. Before, he never even thought about higher education, and now he’s working his ass off behind closed doors for the small chance to be able to go to school near you. He was in deep. And he doesn’t know if he wants to climb out, because he can’t deny the light flutter in his chest when he sees a new text from you, or a new letter addressed to him in the mail, or even when he sees the caller ID photo of you two together at your graduation when you occasionally call him.

 

So he can’t fathom the pure joy he feels when he sees you during your visit home for summer break. You’re as beautiful as ever, and he wants nothing more than to bring you into his arms. Which is fucking weird, because a year ago, all he would ever think about when it came to you was how much he wanted your mouth on his cock (not that that thought didn’t appear again every now and then) but now he was just content with your physical presence.

 

You hang out several times, in his house, in town, at your house, and you just catch up on all the things you didn’t mention in your messages or calls to each other, simply enjoying your company with the other. And during one conversation when the two of you are sitting on the roof of your house, the topic comes up and Terushima asks, “So how’s you and Theatre Boy?” He never really did get past that nickname for the dude.

 

“We’re doing pretty good. Our schools are like an hour away from each other, but we try to make time to see each other at least once a week.” you nod thoughtfully. “I think he’s getting popular within his department, actually. We were going to come home together this summer, but he’s staying behind to work on some big festival coming up for his school.”

 

“I’m surprised you didn’t stay to cheer him on.”

 

“I thought about it, but I really wanted to come home. I wanted to see my family, and you.” Your smile is dazzling because it’s just so sincere and soft and everything Terushima wants. He hasn’t slept with any other girls in fear of letting your name slip out in the middle of it.

 

He’s approached and been approached by a handful of them, which is nothing new. But at the end of the day, his thoughts always trail back to you when it’s deep in the night and he’s alone in his room with a hand grasped tightly around his dick that longs for your tight heat. And he usually comes to the memory of your voice desperately calling his name.

 

But right now, simply sitting beside you is enough to quell his desire for your existence near him. And he comes to terms with how he will probably never be able to get over you, contemplating the virtue of patience and reward.



+



You come home again just two months later, surprising him at one of his volleyball games. He was absolutely astonished to see you when he came to greet the people in the stands, because your voice had camouflaged perfectly with the cheerleaders. And his heart whirls so wildly that he fears that it might pop out of his chest to jump at you.

 

You’re only there for the weekend to cheer him on, since you were lucky enough not to be assigned too much work this week. And when you’re back in his room, talking to him like you always have, he feels like those long gaps of time in which you were gone have all dissipated. He’s so incredibly happy that you came to cheer him on.

 

It doesn’t seem like the situation could get any better until you tell him that you and Mikoshiba have broken up. “Yeah, we broke it off a little while after summer break ended.” you shrug, as if it was completely insignificant.

 

But to Terushima, this was anything but that. This was like a new door was opened to him, and there was endless light showering him with whispers of hope and opportunity. But of course, before all that, he was your friend. And he feels the need to know as much as possible, both to get to know you and to learn from Theatre Boy’s mistakes. “Why’d you do it?”

 

You’re sitting right beside him on his bed, and he can feel the slightest of movements through his mattress as you shrug, “Well, it was clear that he wasn’t going to keep me happy forever. Something was lacking between us so I didn’t want to keep it going without my full heart in it.”

 

“But I thought you really liked that guy.” Terushima admits truthfully. You showed Theatre Boy all sorts of sides of you that you never showed to anyone else, and he was always so incredibly envious of that. So for you to say that you drifted apart kind of scared him. Would the same happen to him if you were to get together?

 

“Well of course I did. He was my first boyfriend.” you say with the wisdom of a college student, “It was something to be excited about since everything was a new experience.”

 

You pause before you turn to look at Terushima again, “Well, almost everything.”

 

And for some impossible reason, the two of you end up meeting lips after a minute of just staring at each other. Neither of you knew how you knew the other wanted it, but you both knew. And soon, one thing leads to another and the next thing you know, Terushima’s cock is in your mouth.

 

You’re naked and on your knees at the edge of his bed, bobbing your head slowly up and down the length of his shaft, refamiliarizing yourself with the taste and texture of him. You hum into his balls that you’ve sucked into your mouth, and if that wasn’t enough already, Terushima feels like he could explode at the sight of his cock resting flat on your face as you suck at the base. “Oh yes, baby. I’ve missed you so much.” he almost wheezes as he pulls tighter on your hair.

 

“Really?” you ask with innocent eyes when you pop off of his dick, only to lean down to give it a quick kiss. “Do you think about me a lot at night, Yu-kun?” you purr before swallowing him whole again.

 

“Every night.” he confesses, helping you push his dick farther down your throat until you can’t breathe. “God, I want you on me every second of the day.”

 

When you give him a relentless suck even though he’s already hitting the back of your throat, he’s destroyed in a flash of white that has him feeling blinded. You’re choking, but you had managed to swallow a good half of his emission. The rest of it drips out of your mouth and onto your chest, leaving him in a state of dismay at how hard he is again already.

 

“Yu-kun…” you pant, and he pulls you up to kiss him fiercely. The taste of him mixed with your saliva is the most primal, ego-inflating sensation he’s encountered. And in a flash, you’re pushed onto the floor, your legs being spread apart to make room for Terushima’s body.

 

He picks up your hips with practiced ease and pushes past your entrance with little resistance. But no matter how many times he does this, he never fails to stagger a bit at how glorious you feel around him, squeezing the sanity out of him with your extraordinary heat.

 

And he can never tune out the melodious whine of your voice as you urge him to go at you harder, deeper, faster. Every inch of your body touching his, each caress of your skin under his fingers, your scent permeating his room, he feels like he’ll be punished for feeling this much pleasure. But he can’t keep himself away from you.

 

The volleyball captain raises both of your legs up to rest on his shoulders and he slowly leans forward to press them against your chest. He keeps his thrusts ongoing as he reaches down to kiss you with a passionate fervor, scraping your mouth with his tongue piercing.

 

He hasn’t been inside of you for at least half a year, and in this moment as he pushes you to your very limits to cry out his name as you shake under him at your peak, he wonders how he had managed. Imagining a moment where you’re not connected to him is like trying to find a way to breathe without oxygen. He needs you. And he’s never going to let some other guy steal you away from him ever again.



+



Following that visit, you two meet up and have sex practically every time you see him when you come home. And by the time Terushima graduates, you’re holding hands and kissing in public and feeding each other and doing all sorts of other coupley things.

 

His friends are surprised, to say the least, to see you bounding up to him after the ceremony to throw your arms around him and give him a deep kiss. When you take off to share your congratulations with your other juniors, his friends interrogate him immediately, “So are you guys still just friends doing what you did before or are you actually going out now?”

 

“Who knows?” Terushima shrugs with a smile that shows he couldn’t care less what your relationship status was. He was happy being with you and you seem happy being with him and he’s happy that you’re happy. This was good enough for what you had, wasn’t it?

Notes:

i still have a couple more in the works, but give me some ideas so i can figure out who to write up next!

Chapter 7: Kyotani Kentarou - Rivalry

Summary:

why do you find yourself fighting for the attention of your favorite senpai with a mad dog?

Notes:

LONG TIME NO SEE. first and foremost, sorry for the wait! i recently rewatched young justice and gotten washed back into an old obsession. and i haven't had enough time and motivation with life going on. but it's finally thanksgiving break so i'll do my best to churn some more haikyuu stuff out! i've been reading and trying to reply to all your comments, and i'm so glad that there are people enjoying the one shots! i don't know if i'll be able to get to everyone's requests, but i'll see what i can do. until then, please enjoy this chapter.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

The lunch bell rings and the teacher leaves the students to enjoy their break and fuel up for the rest of the afternoon. Two tall boys in the class stand up and stretch before acknowledging each other, “Heading to the cafeteria today?”

 

The two chat about their lunch options before they’re interrupted.

 

“Iwaizumi-senpaiiii~!”

 

The third-year volleyball players of Aoba Josai turn to the girly voice calling for their team ace. A bright, bouncy girl pops into the classroom, skipping over to Iwaizumi’s desk. She stops right in front of him and Oikawa, with sparkling eyes and her hands behind her back, “Are you guys heading to the cafeteria today?”

 

“Oh, [Surname].” Iwaizumi greets the second-year girl, “Yeah, I think so. Some of us probably didn’t bring a lunch today, so it’s easier for us all to just eat there together.”

 

“In that case, would you like to have my extra bento? I ended up making too much, but I thought I would bring it in case maybe you wanted some.” You hold out the cutely wrapped up lunch box you had been holding behind your back up.

 

“Really? Are you sure?” he hesitantly takes the box from you, “Wouldn’t your friends appreciate it more? Your cooking is great, I’m sure they’d love to have it.”

 

“Please, they eat enough of my food as it is in class.” you roll your eyes good-naturedly. “Besides, I wanted to make sure you had enough strength to train for the upcoming preliminaries. Those are happening soon, right?”

 

“Yeah it’s coming up, so we’re training pretty hard for it. It’s gonna be the last tournament for us third-years on the team.”

 

“Oh, I see.”

 

“[Surname]-chan, can I have some too? I’ve always heard that your cooking is to die for.” Oikawa praises.

 

You blink as you turn to look at Oikawa, looking as if you had just noticed him standing beside Iwaizumi. He’s bending slightly to meet your height and giving you a sweet look. “Uh… if Iwaizumi-senpai wants to share, sure.” you giggle a little behind your hand, looking away but not really affected by Oikawa’s charming smile.

 

“Iwa-chan--” the captain starts.

 

“You brought your own lunch today. Stop trying to mooch off of other people.” Iwaizumi walks off toward the door where the other third-year volleyball players have stopped by the door to wait for their teammates.

 

“Iwa-chan, you’re so mean!” Oikawa shouts. He then turns to the second-year girl again, “[Surname]-chan, how come you’re always spoiling Iwa-chan, but you never even give me a second look?” he pouts.

 

“Because Iwaizumi-senpai said that he would help me with the sports documentary that I’m filming for the cinematography club, right senpai?” you tilt your head past Oikawa’s tall figure to catch Iwaizumi’s attention before he walks out of the classroom.

 

“Oh yeah, the film project you’re working on, right?” he hums, trying to recall when he had promised to help the second-year girl who’s always chasing him around.

 

“Iwa-chan is starring in [Surname]-chan’s sports documentary?? You didn’t even ask me! Isn’t it more appropriate to ask the captain of the school volleyball club to star in something like that?” said captain protests.

 

“Maybe so, but you’re always the starring role in any headliner or interview, Oikawa-senpai. I wanted a fresh new perspective for this project. Something that people aren’t used to seeing and hearing. Iwaizumi-senpai has enough experience and character for the film I want to make.” you smile over at the volleyball club ace.

 

Oikawa is about to make another point when you squeeze past him towards the door again, “So Friday, after school right?” you reconfirm as you bound up to Iwaizumi, “Right before club activities. Don’t forget, senpai. See you!” you leave the classroom with a wave.

 

“Okay.” he waves back to her, “Thanks again for the bento.” he calls to her.

 

The third-year boys start heading towards the cafeteria, making small talk about Iwaizumi’s increasing popularity as a slightly irked Oikawa follows behind. “Man you have it good, having your cute juniors make food for you.” Matsukawa mentions.

 

“Soon you’ll be up to par with the captain with all the admirers he’s got lined up.” Hanamaki adds jokingly.

 

“It’s just [Surname] who gives me her leftovers, I don’t make her do anything.” Iwaizumi retorts, “And it’s not like that, I’m just doing her a favor.”

 

The sound of Oikawa’s stubborn huff makes them turn to see him with his arms crossed and his nose in the air. “What?” Iwaizumi decides to ask.

 

“Don’t play dumb, Iwa-chan. You know [Surname]-chan has been pursuing you since last year. She’s always coming to the classroom to bring you snacks and she only cheers for you when she comes to the games.” he says, somewhat bitterly.

 

“That’s not very different from all the girls who do the same for you, though.” Matsukawa points out, exchanging confused looks with Hanamaki and Iwaizumi as to why Oikawa seems to put off by this one girl’s behavior.

 

“Still! She could be a little less obvious about her bias towards Iwa-chan! She probably never even considered me for her film project! Whenever I offer to help her with something, she just brushes me off like some insect or something!” the increasingly irritated captain puffs his cheeks out.

 

“Anyway,” Iwaizumi decides to change the subject, “We should eat. Lunch is going to end before you guys can even get your food.” he pulls out a chair at one of the tables in the cafeteria.

 

“Hmph, easy for you to say, Mr. Bento.” Oikawa harrumphs again, turning before he can see and further comment on the pretty and well-made lunch box that Iwaizumi opens up.



><



“Iwaizumi-san, I’m paying you back on that race that you won yesterday.” Kyotani brings Iwaizumi to the baseball diamond right after school, before practice can start. He holds up a baseball in his hand, “Pitch this to me and let’s see who hits farther.”

 

“Alright, I’m up for it.” Iwaizumi pulls out a challenging smile, ignoring the gruff tone he takes with his senior. The two go at it and of course Iwaizumi takes the hot-headed newbie by storm, so Iwaizumi leads a fuming Kyotani Kentaro into the 3rd gymnasium where the team is getting ready for warm-ups.

 

“There you are, senpai!” a girl’s voice calls out among all the squeaking shoes and rolling equipment. “I went to your classroom and you weren’t there!”

 

“Oh, [Surname], what’s u--” Iwaizumi stops short when he realizes, “Oh crap, the documentary… I’m sorry, [Surname], I got distracted.” he apologizes right away.

 

“Aww, senpaiii… After all that work I did to remind you.” you puff out your cheeks, eyeing the delinquent-looking guy behind him. “Well anyway, today I’ll probably just have to settle with getting more film of the team practicing, since we probably don’t have time for the interview. But I’ll come back to find you on Monday, got it?”

 

“Okay, okay. Sorry, again! I’ll do my best to remember this time.” Iwaizumi promises.

 

“Fine.” you pout, pulling something out of your backpack, “Here, some snacks I made. I was going to give to you after the interview, but it’d be a waste if I just kept them for the weekend. I’ll see you on Monday, senpai.” you hand over the cutely wrapped homemade cookies before heading up to the spectator stands of the gymnasium.

 

“Osu, thank you.” he utters, feeling somewhat guilty for forgetting about you. But he did have a fun time showing Kyotani up, so he’s not too regretful about it. He needs to find out more about his new teammate if they’re going to make use of him.



><



You’re waiting outside of Iwaizumi’s classroom Monday after school as promised, but your main character is still nowhere to be found. After bumming around his classroom for five minutes, you huff in exasperation and head for the gym, even though you know that Aoba Johsai’s volleyball team takes Mondays off. There are a couple of stray boys working on their individual practices, but no Iwaizumi to be found.

 

“Excuse me!” you call to the enormous gym to grab everyone’s attention, “Would any of you happen to know where Iwaizumi-senpai is?”

 

“Iwaizumi-san? I think he went out for a run earlier.”

 

“What.” you deadpan. Swallowing down your frustration, you give your thanks to the boys and make your way out of the gym to call him. Of course he doesn’t answer, but you stick around the volleyball clubroom and gymnasium areas anyway. As you wait and call for the next forty minutes or so, you wonder if maybe you should have just asked Oikawa to help you with your project after all.

 

Iwaizumi is the apple of your eye, but he’s proving to you that he doesn’t think much of you in disappointing you this way. As much as you want to believe that he has valid reasoning for taking a run when he promised to help you, you can’t help but be a little upset.

 

After an hour of waiting, you decide to just head back to your clubroom and try to put together whatever you have so far and just write an outline for how you want the video to look once you actually get the interview material. Which you don’t have much of, since you need the interview content to help you figure out how to make it flow naturally in order to plan it out. So it all hits a dead end at some point, and you just head home to take a nap.

 

When your phones rings, showing Iwaizumi’s caller ID, you’re already doing your homework and waiting for dinner to start. “Iwaizumi-senpai….” your tone rises when you answer, unable to hide your anger.

 

“[Surname]! I’m so, so sorry! I got caught up helping one of my juniors train for the preliminaries.” His junior? Was it that same guy you saw Iwaizumi with last time? “I promise I’ll make it to the next interview schedule. Promise.” he practically begs, which does well for him because you’re already about to forgive him with this desperate tone he uses.

 

“Alright senpai. But just know that if you bail on me one more time, I won’t forgive you.” you threaten emptily.

 

“I’ll definitely make it up to you.” he promises. You sure hope he does.



><



When you walk into Iwaizumi’s classroom the next day after school, there’s quite a commotion happening. There seems to be an arm wrestling competition going on, and of course, in the middle of the showdown are Iwaizumi himself and that same ruffian second-year who seems to always be there when you need your senpai’s help.

 

“Iwaizumi-senpai!” you shout above the commotion to catch his attention.

 

He turns around to greet you, “Oh, hey [Surname].” and proceeds to slam Kyotani’s hand down on the desk without a second thought.

 

“Senpai, what are you doing?” you observe his ruffled uniform shirt, sleeves rolled up. Admittedly, his arms look delicious, but you have work to do that you can’t afford to put off anymore.

 

“Taking up this kid’s challenge.” he smirks at his junior teammate, who growls back almost spitefully.

 

“Again. I’ll challenge you to something else.” his voice is as deep as it is feral.

 

“Oh? And what might that be?” The fact that Iwaizumi sounds quite interested in this challenge makes you feel the need to cut in.

 

“Senpai!” you pull a whine, pouting cutely and furrowing your eyebrows to remind him what he promised you. The pout at least does a number on some of the other boys in the room.

 

“Ah, right. Okay maybe we should head out now.” he agrees, grabbing his blazer.

 

“Wait, Iwaizumi-san. I'm still unsatisfied with where we left off. I'll challenge you again. This time to a sprint race!” Kyotani growls, not even caring that he's interrupting you.

 

But that's where you draw the line in being ignored. You’ve had enough of being stood up, and like hell you’re gonna allow it to happen right before your eyes this time.

 

Stalking up to the desk that sits between the two hot-blooded guys still burning in the heat of competition, you slam your hands on the table and lower your gaze down to Kyotani. When you have his undivided attention, you declare, “So you’re the one who’s been taking Iwaizumi-senpai’s attention away from me, huh? Sorry to say, but that makes you my rival.”

 

“Huh?” Kyotani sends you a challenging glare, which you do not back down from.

 

“Huh?” Iwaizumi repeats with more confusion in his voice, “Oi, [Surname]...”

 

“Don’t mean to cut in, but I’ve been promised Iwaizumi-senpai’s time and I refuse to let this linger on any longer.”

 

“Yeah, right.” he bites back, “I’m not giving in until I beat him.”

 

“I’m sure you might, someday. But that’s not today. Or at least, not right now. He’s promised to help with something and your little competitions have already caused me enough trouble.” You growl back, thinking about all the deadlines you’ve had to push back because you haven’t been able to get your interview in.

 

Kyotani just growls at how you make his proud challenges sound like child’s play and stands up to intimidate you with his height. You don’t seem to be very affected by it, to many of the boys in the room’s surprise.

 

“Oi, guys, settle down. [Surname], you’re right. I’ll come with you to do the project now.” Iwaizumi tries to push the two second-years apart.

 

“And what makes you think you’re worth his time? Important competitions are coming up.” Kyotani straightens himself higher, looking past his nose down at you.

 

“After all this lollygagging that you seem to be the center of, I don’t believe I need to prove myself to you, but if you insist on it,” you step closer to him, creating an intimidating aura of your own, “I’ll gladly take you down.”

 

“Oi…” Iwaizumi wonders if his words are even getting through to either of you anymore. He feels the need to stop you, but at the same time he finds your will not to back down interesting to watch. It’s much different from your usual girly and peppy side.




Ten minutes later, the two second-years causing all the tension are on the track field, changed into athletic clothing and about to start a relay. Somehow, Iwaizumi got dragged into this and he’s the one who signals the go for them to start. And surprisingly, you just manage to beat Kyotani in the 100 meter dash. Kyotani challenges you to another round, this time with hurdles and you still manage to keep the small distance between you in the last twenty meters of the sprint.

 

Then you somehow move over to the soccer field, each playing your own one-man teams and again, you manage to make it up to five goals first. Because of Kyotani’s reckless competitive streak, and your grudge and unwillingness to back down from this guy, you end up having several different athletic competitions. Almost as many as Kyotani has challenged Iwaizumi to during the athletic festival. Most of them the two of you are usually neck and neck, but you each manage to score a marginal win here and there.

 

The tension just seems to continue to grow between you and Kyotani, since neither of you will back down. At some point, even some of the other volleyball club members come to watch. It’s only when Iwaizumi announces that it’s about time for volleyball practice to start that you stop.

 

Sending glares to each other, Kyotani speaks first, “We’ll pick this up later. If you can keep up, that is.”

 

“I’m the only girl among three brothers and all boy cousins.” you stand your ground, a hand on your hip to lean weight into the baseball bat you’re holding to the ground with your other hand. Picking up the bat and spinning it around in the air before letting the hitting end land on your shoulder and behind your head, you make an impressive pose to back your follow-up retort. “Try not to underestimate me too much.”

 

Due to the deadline of your project, you end up staying throughout the practice so you can interview Iwaizumi after it ends. After it’s finished, you’re glad you finally have the necessary content to completely edit your documentary film. “But that was really impressive how you took on Kyotani like that.” Iwaizumi mentions. “I didn’t know you had it in you. Maybe we could have a competition once too.” he suggests.

 

“No! Never!” you reject the idea immediately, “Depending on the outcome, Iwaizumi-senpai might never see me as a woman again…” you dramatically hide your eyes in your raised arm, feeling sorrowful at the very thought of challenging your beloved senpai in a game that would destroy the feminine cover you’ve tried to pull over your roughhousing personality after all this time.”




><





Kyotani has been hyper actively aware of you these days. After two weeks of mindless competitions that ranged from racing to pole vaulting, he had come to take notice of how incredible your form was. The way you controlled your body without even being on an athletic team made it clear how well you took care of it. And the second-year wing spiker had started noticing even the smallest details of your existence.

 

From the way you curve your body, to the slight smirks you give him when you one-up him, to the way you dress herself (those damn thigh highs), even to the way the wind blows through your hair when you’re outside. Something must be wrong with him because he often spends more of your time spent casually competing staring at you than focusing on winning.

 

Which is extremely frustrating, so he vents all of his lost time in staring at you through diligent practice during volleyball club. Although his teammates are glad to see him hyped up, they also seem a bit worried at how intense he is. They can only hope that he’ll be more calm and collected during games.





“Oi… you're staring.”

 

Kyotani blinks out of his stupor, his eyebrows furrowing together, “What?” he retorts back. Although he didn't realize it until he was called out, he was indeed staring.

 

“Don't play dumb, your eyes have been glued to my legs for 5 minutes. And don't think I don't know you're staring at my butt when I run past you during a race.” you continue to stab him for things that he definitely has been doing. “You've been doing this a lot lately, don't tell me you suddenly have the hots for me.” you tease with a smug look, posing with a leg bent up so you can caress it sensually from your spot sitting on the ground.

 

Kyotani doesn't know whether that cheesy display adds to or takes away from your physical appeal but either way he huffs and turns away, “As if.”

 

“Oh?” Suddenly you’re hovering on your knees right beside him, with one hand placed on Kyotani’s knee to get his attention. “You mean to say you're not interested in what's under here?” you’ve got your thumb hooked to the hem of your t-shirt to slowly lift it up.

 

Kyotani can't explain it but his eyes grow wider as more and more of your bright, unblemished skin is revealed. Your body is taut and lean and your torso doesn't seem to carry an ounce of fat despite how you’re not in any sports clubs. It's probably because of all the competitions you keep up with each other and the male relatives that you mentioned you always have to wrestle around with.

 

The second-year virgin pushes you away hurriedly when he sees the slightest sliver of pink. Probably the cup of your bra. He can’t believe you managed to get that high and he didn't even notice!!

 

You stumble and fall back on your butt, but you laugh, “Well, well. Looks like the mad dog has some boyish charm to him.”

 

“Shut up.” Kyotani suddenly can’t seem to face the bold girl beside him. You find this incredibly amusing so you decide to see how far you can push it.

 

“Say, I have a new game for you.” you smirk, crawling over to him. Despite not wanting to show his face when his blush has yet to completely fade away, his ears perk up at the sound of a new challenge. He tries not to look too taken by surprise when he sees how close you’ve gotten to him. “It’ll be a bit different, but regardless, it’s a test of willpower. Are you up for it?”

 

“Hmph, there’s no challenge I can’t take on.” he snuffs your spiteful grin.

 

“Well, well. That’s the spirit, then.” you practically purr. Then before he knows it, you are climbing over his body to settle on top of his crossed legs, basically straddling him.

 

All of a sudden, this doesn’t seem like such a good idea to Kyotani, “H-hey! What do you think you’re doing?!”

 

“Making this easier for the both of us.” You lean your face in closer to Kyotani’s until you’re almost nose to nose. Kyotani leans his weight further into his arms that are holding him up, his fingers grasping harder at the grass of the soccer field you’re sitting in.

 

His eyes have never been so wide. Your scent is all around him, making him too dizzy to conjure comprehensive thoughts. He can’t decide whether your weight on his lap is unwelcome or not, because it’s both completely inappropriate and strangely comfortable. Despite how you’re only dressed in your school gym uniform, your body line isn’t any less alluring. And how he can see the small details in your bright, flecked eyes makes his limbs freeze in their joints; they’re strangely mesmerizing.

 

“Now, how this works is… I’m going to kiss you.” you start explaining, bringing him back to the situation at hand.

 

“What?” his gruff voice comes out calmer than he feels.

 

“And the game is… that’s all we can do.” you smile innocently, “We will continue to kiss without letting go unless absolutely necessary. To get air or something. The challenge is, you cannot touch me in any other way.” the mischief starts to sparkle in those bright irises or yours. “The farthest we can go in physical contact is kissing and me sitting on you like this. Whoever touches the other first in any way that’s not kissing, loses. Got it?”

 

Kyotani tries to take in all of these rules. Basically, this kind of situation would stimulate the both of your bodies to go further than kissing. The challenge is to hold back from those primal instincts to ask for more. It sounds simple enough. He has confidence since he’s never had interest in these kinds of things before, and all of his energy is usually just put into sports and competitions. If you want to prove something, then surely it won’t end up as you expect it to.

 

“Yeah.” he mumbles, bracing himself. Although he accepts the challenge, he’s internally sweating a bit. Why is he suddenly nervous as you lean forward? The moment you touch your lips to his and close your eyes, it doesn’t seem like a big deal. They’re just a little warm against his own, but why is there suddenly a hot flushing in his face?

 

Your lips and legs are touching, but there’s a small gap between your chests. Your hands are resting patiently on your legs bent on either side of Kyotani’s thighs. It feels weird at first, because you are the only one pressing your lips against his for a while, but when you tilt your head to press your lips against his in a different angle, Kyotani gets a better idea of how to do this.

 

Relaxing his stiff body, he closes his own eyes and sits up straighter to make the kiss a little less difficult for you. His hands move up close to his hips to hold himself up on the grass. Once you think Kyotani has gotten the feel of kissing, you smirk a little against his lips before bringing in a new factor.

 

The first swipe of your tongue against his bottom lip catches Kyotani off guard. You don’t back down from your advances, but you use a slow pace to let the little mad dog get more accustomed to the nature of the game. Little sweeps against the seam of his lip to warn him of your impending visit before finally slipping into the small opening Kyotani leaves when he lets his guard down.

 

Kyotani revels in terrifying delight at the sensation of your hot tongue touching his own. There’s a smoothness amongst the rough muscle that sends a delicious shock down his spine. You slide it in and out in reasonable intervals to keep his curiosity peaked. But there comes a moment in which Kyotani snaps impatiently and he decides to take a leading role in this game.

 

His tongue barges into your mouth as rashly and violently as he would spike a volleyball. The girl on his lap who’s now victim of his newfound assertiveness practically has her throat attacked. Who knew his tongue was that long? His mouth is merciless and your synapses are on fire, lights starting to sparkle behind your eyes. All the colors are ferociously blended together by Kyotani’s paintbrush of a tongue and they merge into a rumble deep in the back of your throat.

 

The groan you release is submissive but blissfully so. There’s no way you can fight against Kyotani’s dictative mouth now that he’s decided to lay his claim past your lips. The small whimpers and mewls you make greatly contrast with the strong character you show when you take Kyotani on in some other athletic competition, and the audible change in your stature excites him in a way he’s afraid to understand.

 

He pulls his tongue out put he continues to suck onto your face with monstrous force. He’s slowly becoming aware of how stiff his body has become again, but for another reason. His muscles are screaming in stimulation, and he now sees why this game is such a challenge. The endless kissing has built up the heat and desire in every cell of his body and he wants nothing more than to run his hands down the skin of the girl in his lap. His fingers twitch with the need to caress your arms, or clutch onto your hair, or squeeze your soft--

 

“Oi! Kyotani, what do you think you’re doing? Practice is...” a voice breaks you two out of your heated fervor and you are the one to tear away from Kyotani’s lips with a loud suction-like sound. “...starting.” Yahaba finishes awkwardly, at a complete loss with how to react to the scene before him.

 

The cute but hotheaded girl in their year who’s always accepted Kyotani’s mindless challenges without fail is locking lips with said reckless member of the volleyball team. And the mad dog doesn’t seem happy to have been interrupted judging by the way he growls threateningly as he grabs at your butt to bring you closer to him and reattach his lips to yours, all without even a glance at the setter who had so kindly come all the way out here to find and retrieve him to get to practice. Should he say something…?

 

Kyotani doesn’t understand it either. He doesn’t know why you suddenly broke away from him, but before he knew it, he grabbed the part of you most easily within his grasp and smashed your lips together again. The reconnection was almost hard enough to bruise, but your amused smirk against his lips brings him back to reality. This time, he lets you pull away from him. And the first thing he sees is your victorious smile. “You touched me first. This is my win.” you giggle as you remove yourself from his stiff lap.

 

It’s strange, but the sight of you completely tidy and unblemished somewhat pisses Kyotani off. Other than your reddened and puffy lips, you look entirely unaffected with how easily you play off that entire escapade.

 

Maddeningly, you saunter out of the soccer field, nodding your head to Yahaba on your way, as if this was just another simple challenge you had won. How could you act so nonchalant when Kyotani’s head and body and feelings are whirling out of control? He picks himself up (ignoring the clear discomfort in his shorts) and stomps out of the field back towards the gym, ignoring Yahaba’s questions and protests.





Once hidden behind the door of a school bathroom stall, you let out a deep, deep breath and clutch at your pounding heart. How you had managed to escape that quickly building incident, you didn't know. But you can count your blessings that Yahaba had interrupted when he did. Who knows what else would have gone down if some sort of intercepting outlier hadn’t shown up? Would you have continued? Would you have caved in first? How far would you have gone on public school grounds? And why had you even thought that kind of inhibiting game was a good idea?

 

Helping Kyotani discover a new hedonistic side of himself had been an entertaining experience - the boy was slow to warm up, but damn was he a quick learner - but was it really worth it to deal with whatever aftermath this might lead to? Who knows what'll happen the next time you see each other? Will he ignore you? Will he jump your bones? Will he act as if nothing happened and treated it like another simple competition?

 

These were all worrisome things running through your head, but after about 20 minutes hiding in the stall, you decide to cross that bridge when you get there.



><



When you come skipping up to the the table of third year volleyball players, calling Iwaizumi’s name in such a bright, flirty voice, Kyotani remembers how this entire thing happening between you two had began. You probably liked Iwaizumi. Oikawa complained occasionally about how the attention you shared in the company of the two was completely biased. And Kyotani could see how, seeing you smile so brightly at the one player he respected on the team and giving him a cute bag that probably held a special homemade snack.

 

As the captain starts complaining again, Kyotani releases a low growl and walks past the cafeteria to head to his own solitary lunch spot by the gym building. He doesn’t have time to be getting riled up over something as petty as jealousy. The spring high preliminaries would start next week, and he had to be ready. So he resolves to focus on volleyball solely.

 

Or so he had thought when you walk into the 3rd gymnasium during cleanup on the last night of practice before the first day of prelims, holding a tray full of onigiri for the team members. It’s a surprise to say the least.

 

“When I overheard that the managers wanted to treat you guys to something as a token of sharing strength, I volunteered to help immediately. Please help yourselves!” you answer cheerfully when Iwaizumi asks what you’re doing here.

 

You don’t have to tell them twice. The boys are all over the snacks in seconds, save for Kyotani that is. He doesn’t know how to approach you after that last… encounter you two had. But Iwaizumi is the one who notices his absence, “Oi, Kyotani. Aren’t you going to eat one? They’re fresh.”

 

Not really one to turn down the only senpai he respects, and even less of one to turn down free food, he silently sets the mop he was holding against the wall and walks over to the group of the boys. When he’s standing right in front of you, the first thing he sees is a subtle but smug smile pulling at your lips as you hold the tray out to him, “Here you go.”

 

His small frown almost looks like a pout when he stubbornly grunts out an, “Osu.” as he takes the rice ball and takes a gruff bite from it. He doesn’t miss the lingering gaze you direct at his jaw, but he feels scrutiny under your eyes so he turns away and finishes his snack in another two bites so he can get back to mopping.

 

Soon, all the food is gone and you take your leave as well, wishing the team good luck on their first game tomorrow. Kyotani can’t seem to pull his eyes away from you until you’re completely out of sight of the gym. He had been staring at your legs again.



><



“Oh my god, guys!!! Those were such great games today!!” You shout when the team makes its way out of the Sendai gymnasium. You had come with other students from the school to cheer them on, and now you were one of the several spectators who came to commend them in person after the second day of preliminary matches.

 

Or rather, their last day of preliminary matches. They had just lost to Karasuno and the atmosphere was actually quite solemn, but you still had the courage to praise them after their loss. Of course, you give extra individual praise to Iwaizumi (“That was such an incredible receive at the end!!”) and even humor Oikawa with some compliments. The team is still upset, but they accept your words with soft smiles.

 

When Kyotani passes you on his way into the bus with the other members, he thinks you’re just going to let him go. But you stop him with a last minute, “Uhm.”

 

He doesn’t know why he freezes so quickly at your command, but he turns his head slowly to face you without questioning it too much. You’re looking to the side with a small (cute) blush dusting your cheeks, and you’re kind of pouting. Like you don’t really want to admit the next thing you’re about to say. “You were… pretty cool today.”

 

Kyotani’s still expression doesn’t betray his emotional reaction, but he does feel some sort of elation at your compliment. He feels… proud, and kind of… happy. Maybe this is why Oikawa is always trying to get your attention. And despite your reluctance, that embarrassed, denying look on your face is really fucking endearing. And cute.

 

And despite how he kind of wants to smash your face into his, this doesn’t seem to be the appropriate situation. He is still steaming about how they lost despite his best efforts. So he leaves you and boards the bus with his usual grunt, “Yeah.”

 

On the ride back to school, he stews in a mix of anger, disappointment, determination, anticipation, and elation. All from many different stimulants; there was the exhilaration from the game, the games that would likely come up next season for their revenge, and of course your compliment stirring up his stomach. He would sharpen his fangs even more from here on out.



><



After the third years of Aoba Johsai graduated, your intense rivalry with Kyotani died down. At some point, you became mutual friends. You’d occasionally join each other for lunch spontaneously, sometimes you’d visit the volleyball club during practice, and sometimes you guys would initiate another little “competition” between you for fun.

 

Your persona around him loses its hostility, but it doesn’t brighten into that flirty, girly image you always showed Iwaizumi. Kyotani doesn’t know how he feels about it, but he doesn’t question it too much and just appreciates the development between the two of you.

 

Which goes in several directions, actually. There’s your budding friendship, in which the two of you walk home together sometimes, and when you accompany him to the separate gym he practices at in his own spare time. And there are the electric moments between the two of you when some external factor erases too much space between you and you end up in several compromising situations.

 

Often you manage to smooth talk or tease your way out of the situation, or sometimes even try provoke him to take another step. But ultimately, there’s a sexual tension that neither of you directly address that’s built up for several months. Kyotani doesn’t want to admit that he’s had to privately address this tension in the darkness of his own room at late hours of the night.

 

And although he berates himself for it, he oftens brings himself back to that first time you had met lips with him. He wants to remember how soft your lips felt, how sweet you tasted, and that short moment he had managed to squeeze at your plush butt. But his memory hasn’t always been the best, and he can only close his eyes and try to reimagine how good your weight on top of him felt.

 

He does what he always does to deal with his attraction to you; practice. It came in handy when the Inter High of his third year came around, and he had a better handle of his own skills now. But he knows that it’s all just a distraction. A way to keep his body and mind busy from moving to thoughts of your bare skin touching his.

 

The night before the first preliminary match of the Inter High, you’re walking home together and talking about who Seijou is going to play first and other small details. You’re usually the one who keeps the questions coming, and Kyotani simply answers with short words and phrases. But when you reach the intersection where you two usually separate, you grab his face in your hands and plant a kiss on his lips.

 

When you pull back, he’s looking at your with a wide eyed expression you haven’t seen in a while. Kyotani doesn’t usually get surprised. “For good luck.” you smile simply as if that was perfect justification for your kiss out of the blue.

 

You hadn’t advanced at him since that last kissing game you played, and suddenly you plant one on him like you know exactly what kind of relationship you guys have that allows your actions to be completely appropriate. When he doesn’t make any moves to question you or leave, you just shrug, “I won’t be there to cheer for you guys tomorrow, but you better win so I can come cheer for you on the second day.”




They do win on the first day. And just to prove something to both you and himself, they win the second day of prelims as well. But the pivotal moment is when you run down from the stands after the game when the team is bringing their materials out of the gym to greet them. “Guys!! That was such a great game!”

 

And he can’t help himself. The image of you running straight up to him with such a bright, happy expression lighting up your face, something warms and spurs him to grab you by the back of the head and pull you in for a deep kiss not dissimilar to the one you gave him two nights ago.

 

It takes you a second to adjust to this change of pace, but you comply with Kyotani’s bold move and clutch his shoulders to kiss him back. Kyotani’s teammates who aren’t standing confused in place are cheering for him or giving their other teammates proud looks.

 

In the aftermath, it’s settled that the two of you are now dating, and Kyotani can finally kiss you whenever he wants. Well, almost whenever. He prefers to keep it away from the prying eyes of his teammates and classmates. So whenever you come to pick him up after practice, he has to wait until you leave the school to kiss you. It’s incredibly relieving to be able to taste your lips as much as he wants now. Like an incredible curiosity and hunger has finally be sated.

 

Although there are new curiosities that continue to pop up, usually in one of your bedrooms when you’re playing the ‘Too Hot’ game you had first introduced to him all those months ago. He’s touched you in many places, and you’ve done the same for him. Sometimes clothes even come off, but you’ve yet to get completely naked and inside each other.

 

The day it finally does happen, it’s when he has the house to himself and you’re free to stay over since it’s the weekend. You had told your parents it was a friend of yours, of course. It was probably better that they didn’t know you would be rubbing your naked pussy all over your boyfriend’s hot body the whole night.

 

Both of you seem to know that it’ll happen that night. It’s not long after dinner and both of your showers that you walk out of his bathroom in nothing but a towel. He’s dressed in his pajamas and laying with his heads back his head in his bed when you re-enter his room. But the second you step in, he’s up and alert as you saunter in.

 

Your skin is still a little pink from the heat of your shower, and he has a clear look at your prominent collarbones since your hair is still tied up in its messy bun. And although you’re clean now, he knows that he wants to mark you up and make a mess out of you. And you seem to have the same idea. With only a mischievous smile on your face, you walk up to him and wordlessly pull his t-shirt over his head, throwing it to the side.

 

Your towel follows the shirt and Kyotani is only staring at you without a clue as to what to do next. Sure you guys have fooled around and even gotten each other off before, but this is his first time seeing you full frontally naked. But he makes sure to bask in the glory of your flawless skin and body, his eyes glazing bottom up. When he reaches your gaze and you’re looking pointedly at his crotch, he supposes he should do the same.

 

Quickly standing, he pulls his hands and boxers off in one swift movement and puts them to the side, obediently awaiting your next move. Your smile is full of satisfaction and you don’t waste another second of not having your bodies touch.

 

Kyotani is sent into a frenzy with the direct skin contact. There’s not a barrier between you two and he’s sizzling with heat and electricity that combusts in his nerves. His hands are on your ass within seconds and your arms around his neck. After kissing for many minutes, he sits down on the edge of his bed and you climb right on top of him, like you usually do.

 

He loves having you on top of him for some reason, feeling your weight leaning on him. Which is fine by you, because you can control the pace however you like. And you want this done now, so with a wiggle of your hips, Kyotani is up and hard in no time. You slide your hips up and down the length of his erection beneath you, building up your own body.

 

Kyotani lends a helping hand, or mouth in this case, by suckling on your breast as you rub yourself against him, moaning your appreciation. And he makes quick work of you by rubbing his thumb against your clit, just like you taught him. He’s fast, and rough, not bringing you to orgasm but ramming you into it, just the way you like it. You doubt that anyone else would be able to handle his rough handling, let alone get off on it.

 

“Kyotani...” you whisper like a prayer into the air as he sucks on your other breast and thrusts two fingers into you to further stimulate you with the thumb on your clit. And soon, you’re shouting, screaming for him to destroy you.

 

And he loves it. Your voice licks flames up his skin, weakens his bones. He can’t seem to bring you closer with his free arm wrapped around your waist, tugging you tight against him so he can bite, suck, and finger you. As close as he wants you, you seem to be pulling away with how far you arch you back.

 

Another minute of spreading his fingers around inside of you, and you’ve hit your first high, soaking his fingers in your emission. But you still seem intent on riding his fingers until you reach another one. So he complies and pushes another finger inside for you to stretch farther for him. He wants you inside him now , but seeing you come apart with just his hand gets him going pretty hard too.

 

“Ah! Kyotani!” you squeal as he bites at your collarbone and repetitively curls his fingers inside of your incredible heat. You push him down onto his back by his shoulders as you peak yet again that evening, bending your body far back to cope with the incredible pleasure Kyotani brings you. His fingers are deep inside of you, and his shaft is rubbing against your backside. When you bring your head back down to look at him, he’s breathing heavily and sweating a bit. And he looks… feral.

 

Which really turns you on and makes you want him inside you now. But when you make to move off of him, his stronghold on your waist cages you on top of him. So you lean down to kiss him, “You don’t want to lay properly on the bed?”

 

“I don’t care.” he growls, and his voice reverberates down into your spine, deeper than you’ve ever heard.

 

“Okay. Are you ready for me?” you can’t resist a little teasing as you mount yourself right above his stiff shaft.

 

He just growls at you and you laugh, obliging. You descend slowly, letting every inch of him permeate every cell of your being. Kyotani makes to thrust up once, but your hand on his hips stops him for the time being. But god damn, your heat is torturing him. It’s plenty wet, so he slides in smoothly, thanks to those two orgasms he gave you. And once you’re sheathed to the hilt and let your weight rest on his lap as you just sit on top of him, Kyotani thinks he lets out the loudest groan he’s ever made.

 

“Ah. Ah. Wait.” you suck in several breaths as you warn him. He really doesn’t want to wait. What he wants is to ram up into you so hard that you break in half. He hasn’t suffered so much against self restraint as he has in this very moment. The sight of you sitting above him, breathing heavily and body weak to his touch, weak to the sensation of his dick sheathed deep inside of you, he’s never seen anything so beautiful.

 

If he were to compare it to volleyball, it’s like seeing a perfect toss set to him, and not yet being able to spike it. He wants it. He wants it so, so bad. And for what feels like the first time, because the word sounds so foreign on his lips, he begs. “Please.” he squeezes his eyes shut, holding his breath.

 

“Kyotani…” You seem to be at your edge too. Because you’d normally respond with a witty comment to the sight of him begging, but your whisper barely passes your lips as you lean down to kiss him. He sees that your eyes are incredibly glazed before they close to meet lips.

 

He can’t do this anymore. He needs to feel you moving against him. So with a strong grip on your waist with his hands, he lifts you up and lowers his hips to pull out of you until only the head is still touching you. You whimper at the extraction, and moan as he slowly inserts himself into you again. He moves at a slow pace so that he doesn’t hurt you, but goddamn he feels like he’s going to fly.

 

So with all his might, he continues like this, since you don’t tell him to stop. Slowly, agonizingly, arduously, he pulls himself out and slowly back in. And although he wants to keep his eyes open to observe your changing reactions, there’s too much pleasure clouding up his vision for him to perceive anything properly. All he can do is groan your name as he tests the lengths of his own willpower.

 

But finally, finally , you start to reciprocate movement. And Christ, if that hip roll of yours doesn’t do anything to him. You both moan together as you keep rolling your hips against him, letting his dick settle more comfortably inside of you. His hard presence inside your sweltering heat starts to lull the pain away, and this time, when Kyotani pulls out and pushes back in, it feels good. More than good.

 

You want to know how much better it can feel if you keep this up. So you mount your forearms beside his head, lift your hips up, and drop them down to land deep down onto his cock again. And the sensation brings both of you to sing your moans in harmony, it was electrifyingly good. “Kyotani…” you moan again, silently pleading for his help.

 

And with the grip of his hands on your hips, and your arms that wrap around his shoulders, the two of you set a rough, rigorous pace that makes you start screaming at the unstoppable surge of pleasure Kyotani rams into your body. He drives himself into you with full force and speed, and before you can fully comprehend the delicious attack on your insides from one thrust, the next one has already come to hit you harder.

 

Eventually, your hips start to fail you and Kyotani has to do most of the work. And even then, you come a third time. But that just won’t do. So your boyfriend rolls you off onto your back so he can stand up, then he pulls your legs back up and around his waist so he can shove himself back into you. And although you’re still not done with your previous orgasm, you compliantly squeeze your legs around his waist and bring him closer to the edge of the bed where he’s standing.

 

And he starts ramming into you again. It’s so raw, carnal, and fast, his movements. And you love it. You love the rough handling of your body in his hands, the sharps bites of his teeth on your skin, the impatient thrusts of his hard cock into your wet cunt, the animalistic glint in his eyes as he fucks you. And the feel of the hard, sinewy muscles of his toned body under your fingertips. All of it, you love all of it. “Yes… Yes..!!” you can’t help but scream, almost cry, “Don’t ever stop.”

 

And he doesn’t. Not until long after he’s shot every drop of his pent up orgasm inside of you. And even then, he only pauses for about a minute to let you both calm down and caught your breath before he pulls out and turns you over onto your stomach. “You’re ready, already?” you chuckle darkly, not even looking back because you know the answer. You can feel his hardness against the back of your leg.

 

“Are you?” he retorts in his gruff, saturated voice.

 

“Mhm.” you hum, spreading your legs apart to both to let him come in, and to see the mix of your sexual escapade drip out of you onto his bedsheets.

 

“Good.” is all he says before he grabs your hips again and pushes his cock in.

 

The reinsertion is staggering. Your muscles seem to melt and your nerves are shot. So you let Kyotani take the lead yet again as he pulls your hips up to get a better angle to push into you. This position is impossibly different from the last ones. He feels like he’s exploring all new places in new angles and reactions from you.

 

You seem to shout just a little bit louder when he angles himself down, so he decides to lay his chest against your back while he thrusts. Your voice is getting hoarse, but you can’t seem to stop yourself, so you bring your arm back to pull Kyotani’s lips against yours when you turn your head.

 

But the angle gets a bit tiring as well, so he settles to kiss and bite at your neck as he continues to thrust into you. He sucks particularly hard at the top of your spine, and you arch back, causing him to shift angles inside of you even further. “Oh god !” you scream, really starting to feel tears form in your eyes now.

 

And when he puts his fingers on your clit… You wonder if you’ll try to convert to a religion. A religion in which Kyotani is your god, because you sure are saying his name a lot like a prayer right now. The stimulation is overwhelming, with his dick thrusting deep into your at every angle, his hand rubbing fiercely at your club, another hand fondling your breast, and his lips and teeth against your back. It’s all too much.

 

And yet, you can’t get enough of him. “Fuck!” you scream into his sheets as you both come together this time. And that in itself is yet another incredible sensation. You feel one with him. You want him with you, inside of you, always.

 

The moment he pulls out of you leaves you with a strange sense of emptiness you’ve never physically felt before. You actually whine. And when he turns you over, his eyes widen in panic as he sees the tear streaks on your face. Putting a hand up to your face, he asks, “Are you alright?”

 

“More than okay.” you smile, mirroring his touch with your own hand against his cheek, and then pulling him down to kiss you again. You snake your arms around his neck, locking his body against yours to stay in a close embrace.

 

A while later, when you’ve both cleaned up and crawled into his bed naked, Kyotani pulls you to lie on top of him and wraps his arms around you without a word. You want to savor the moment, but you can’t help picking on him, “What a teddy bear.”

 

He lets out a low growl at the comparison but that only makes you laugh more, “A prickly teddy bear.” But you snuggle into his hold and rest your head into the crook of his neck until you fall asleep.

 

And Kyotani just savors the feeling of your body resting on top of his, wondering how this all came about. It just started off really heated in the most innocent sense, and now things have gotten way hotter between you. He actually finds himself thinking more in this moment than he does during the day. But no matter how much his thoughts flitter about, he can only come back to realize you’re lying comfortably on top of him. And he still just loves feeling your weight on him.

Notes:

i know there are some inconsistencies with the characters throughout the story, which is probably because it's been so long since i started this one. and i only just got around to finishing it. but hopefully you enjoyed it anyway? i love kyotani so, so much. he's one of my favorite sons (don't tell the other children). and although i don't really see him being as well restrained as i made him out to be in this chapter, i'd like to think he'd still make an exception in this situation. hopefully i'll have another chapter up soon. until then, i hope you liked it!

Chapter 8: Iwaizumi Hajime - My Type

Summary:

oikawa knows you're good at volleyball and he is going to put you to good use. you're not obligated to help him of course, but this might be your chance to get closer to your crush, iwaizumi.

note: i know that there are already two liberos on the seijou team (there's another one who's usually on the bench) but let's just ignore that detail for fanfic convenience, yeah?

Notes:

cry with me. the third season is over and now i'll cry under my desk until the next one comes out. also, may tanaka kazunari rest in peace; you will always be the greatest ukai keishin in my heart ;-; we've gotten so far, and now we've got another journey to go. so for now, here's an unnecessarily long iwaizumi one shot (almost 10k oops). i tried to make it a little more adventurous to mark the end of a season, but... yeah idk. anyway, i hope you enjoy it~

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

The day you get involved with the Aoba Johsai boys volleyball club is the day you had planned to approach your crush, who happened to be a part of the club. When you’re standing outside of the 3rd gymnasium that particular day, taking a breath as you clutch your bag of cookies that you were going to give him, you’re shocked out of your stupor when you hear a couple other girls approach the gym as well.

 

“Hey, are you okay? You look like you’re kind of worried about something.” one of them asks.

 

Then the other girl notices the bag in you’re holding in your hands, and gasps, “Did you make those for someone? Are you going to confess?”

 

Her friend’s eyes widen, “What? What?? Oh my gosh, you are?? Who? Who?? Is it Oikawa-kun? I wouldn’t be surprised. You’re so brave to actually confess to him.” she gushes.

 

Oh. These girls must be here to see the captain. The guy has many fans, which makes the boys volleyball practices quite a popular affair. You’ve visited a few times, and whenever there were other visitors, there were always quite a few cheers for Oikawa.  

 

“But doesn’t he have a girlfriend right now?” the second girl ponders, “And you’re still going to confess? That’s crazy! And so courageous, I mean, Oikawa-kun is soooo handsome, but I still would never be able to tell him. I’d just get all frozen and nervous and aahhhh!!!” the two girls start blushing and squealing together.

 

“Uhm!” you finally interrupt them, “Actually, no. I’m not going to confess to Oikawa-san. But… I am nervous. So, I’m just going to… do my best today.” you suck in that deep breath that had been interrupted earlier.

 

“Oh, okay.” the girls blink, obviously surprised that someone isn’t after Oikawa Toru for once. “Well, let’s go in together then.” they suggest. You nod and follow, trying to find more courage.

 

The sounds of squeaking shoes and smacking balls permeate the air, and everyone is practicing hard with top-of-the-line equipment. You had been in here before, but not during many of their practices, since you had your own club activities to attend. But walking across the gym floor to get to the staircase that led up to the balconies where spectators could watch, a stray ball flies off a player’s arms and there’s a call of, “Watch out!”

 

Those girls who had been walking by you were lucky you were there to save their asses because had you not jumped in front of them to block the ball at the right point of impact, it would have made a skim at their heads. Even luckier was that you managed to receive the ball with your forearms, so you were able to save the cookies in your bag.

 

After the resounding bounce of the ball on the gym floor that rolls back towards the boy who had been trying to receive it, he apologizes to you girls. You just nod and the girls laugh nervously, making their way up to the stairs. You follow quickly behind, having forgotten that you were going to confess to Iwaizumi after that commotion from the stray ball.




It was at that very point of impact that you had the volleyball captain’s attention. The way you had saved those girls looked too well practiced. Your body had clearly only acted on instinct, but your stance and form was too perfect for him not to notice what would have been a perfect receive in a game. He would have just brushed it off as luck, but there was the way you had acted so casually about it, like you saved people from flying balls everyday.

 

Oikawa knew that it was mean, but he really wanted to test this out. During practice, he had aimed a fews serves so that when received, they would bounce off and ricochet towards the stands, particularly in your direction. It didn’t work most of the time, and he couldn’t do it too often because that would become suspicious-looking.

 

When practice was over and most spectators were filing out of the gym, you had stayed behind until even the team was dismissed, nervously gripping the cute bag in your hands. The handsome captain had seen enough of the signs to know that you were planning to confess, or at least interact with a crush of yours. He didn’t want to sound cocky, but he was one of the more prevalent receiver of gifts and confessions that looked just like this one.

 

Finally, you make a move when everyone starts their individual practices, and walk across the courts trying to look natural. It was cute. But when you reach the court he’s practicing on, Oikawa takes the opportunity to send a perfectly aimed serve disguised as an accidental rogue ball your way. “Oh, watch out!” he feigns worry.

 

Your reaction, once again, is instinctual despite how you’re caught by surprise. He hears your small gasp and sees your eyes become dark and concentrated for a sliver of a second as you step back and catch the receive perfectly in your forearms. And lo and behold, it’s sent straight to back to where the setter would be on your side of the court. This proves it. You were a volleyball player.

 

But that’s strange because Oikawa is sure that he knows almost every member of the girls volleyball club at Aoba Johsai, and he doesn’t recall seeing you with them. Obviously you’re experienced enough to be a regular member though, because you can tell as well as he can that that serve was not an accident.

 

“Hey, what’s the big idea?!” your furrow your eyebrows together angrily. You did not come here to be bombarded by volleyballs. It was becoming clearer that these were not accidents anymore.

 

“Ah, sorry about that.” Oikawa smiles sweetly, ducking underneath the net to come your way. “I guess it went too off course.” he ruffles the back of his head with an apologetic chuckle.

 

You huff quietly to yourself, not in the mood to deal with this bullshit, “Oikawa-san. You hit the most accurate serves I’ve ever seen. There is no way that that ball that came right at me was an accident.”

 

“Hm? The most accurate serves you’ve ever seen?” he repeats with a teasing tone and innocent smile, easily changing the subject, “I take it you come to watch us a lot?”

 

“Well, yeah. I like volleyball. I come to watch the official games a lot.” Oikawa is surprised at your unabashed honesty. And he notices how you’re not making any nervous movements or smiling goofily like most of his admirers would.

 

The captain hums curiously, “You seem to have played a good bout yourself. Are you on the girls team at school, by any chance?”

 

“No, I’m not.” You answer vaguely, wanting to avoid any more questions about this. But now there’s a lot of attention on you from several other volleyball players and the coaches as well. You do not want to confess under these pretenses. Guess you’ll have to wait until next time. “Anyway, you guys are working on your own now. I don’t want to intrude on your individual practices.” you make your way out of the gym, regrettably still clutching onto your bag of cookies.





“Oi, what was that about?” Iwaizumi walks up to Oikawa, ready to scold him about flirting with girls before practice has even really finished.

 

“Iwa-chan, have you ever seen that girl at our games?” the captain asks his best friend.

 

Iwaizumi tries to recall seeing your face in the stands, but he can’t seem to come up with anything. “No, I don’t remember seeing her. Why?”

 

Oikawa hums thoughtfully before dismissing the topic, deciding to research again later. He doesn’t know what he’ll do with the information that connects you to your incredible receives, but he has a feeling he’ll figure it out when he gets there.

 

*

 

Or so he had thought. As it turns out, you were Watari’s classmate and through him, the volleyball captain got all sorts of information on you. Like how you usually ate lunch outside by the basketball courts with your friends, how you usually ranked above average with your test scores, and most importantly, that you were in the home economics club.

 

That piece of information was important because it was the when and how Oikawa would pursue you and interrogate you about your volleyball background. It was an annoying affair too. You had been in the middle of piping some desserts when your club members noticed the unexpected, but not unwelcome presence standing by the door.

 

The other girls (and a couple of boys) were prattling immediately when the boy’s volleyball club captain just came waltzing in and asking to speak to you privately. You got so many irritating questions from your club members after he had whisked you out of the room. He knew you would do it too, because it’s not like you had any reason to refuse him and cause suspicion in front of others. The sly bastard.

 

Oikawa was persistent about it, which goes to show how he was dedicated to volleyball to an almost unhealthy point, you would argue. And when he threatened to keep showing up to the home economics club after school, you eventually revealed to him that you were a libero back in middle school, and that you had been playing volleyball as an extracurricular even before that for a few years.

 

Surprisingly, he hadn’t asked you why you didn’t join the girls team at Aoba Johsai. Usually, it seemed like a no-brainer that someone with your experience would continue volleyball activities, but he didn’t pry about it. You were curious, so you asked him why he didn’t.

 

“Hm? Well, it’s all the better for us now, isn’t it?” he smiled sweetly, which somehow irritated you, “Now you can help us practice in your spare time. What do you say? We could use another libero during our self-practice games.”

 

“And…. for what possible reason do you think that I would help you? I’m an open supporter of the volleyball club, but you can’t just bring a random stranger into your practices.” you had retorted. “Not to mention I’m not a permanent member you can work with in real games, and… I don’t know, maybe the fact that I’m a girl might stir some things up.”

 

“Don’t sweat the details. Just come play every once in awhile.” he waves your arguments off, “It won’t be everyday. I’ll talk to the coaches about it and I’ll make sure to ask you beforehand if you can come in to help us. You still like to play volleyball, right? This is good way for you to keep your body warmed up to it.” his smile is disarming.  

 

Admittedly, that one serve he hit yesterday had felt exhilarating. He had incredible power and speed, as expected. But seeing it from the stands and actually receiving it were completely different things.

 

“Not to mention,” he continues with a sly smile, “I saw you holding something yesterday. A gift, for someone on the team, I presume? This would be a perfect opportunity to get closer to our members.”

 

Despite your angry reaction, you blush. The teasing tone in his voice makes you sick. But he’s right. Realistically, Iwaizumi doesn’t even know you. If you confessed to him as a stranger, what’s the chance that he’ll respond to your feelings?

 

And sure. You do like playing volleyball. It’s not a bad idea to get back into a sport just to keep fit and…. Maybe see Iwaizumi’s body in training. So after some thought, you (begrudgingly) give Oikawa your contact information, and the next day during lunch, you get a text from the conniving captain himself. He works fast, the bastard.



*



And that is how you find yourself standing in your gym clothes and volleyball shoes in the 3rd gymnasium, on a Friday after your own club activities have ended, letting Oikawa introduce you to the team. “Hi, I’m [Surname][Name]. Second year in the home economics club. I used to play volleyball, so I’ll be here to help during some practice games. I’ll be in your care.”

 

Despite feeling out of place (you were the only female on the court), you manage to make some casual conversation with Watari. It’s an easier start since he’s in your class and also the libero of the team. Some common ground is always nice. He seemed a little shy to talk at first, but when you brought up some great plays during previous games, he got a little more excited.

 

So slowly, through the weeks leading up to the spring high preliminaries, you got to know the other members. You only showed up maybe once or twice a week after your own club activities, but you did greet them in the hallways and such during school hours.

 

You got along with most of them, always trying to look for some common topic to talk to each person about, and they seemed to warm up to you easily enough. Sometimes they would talk to you first, making you feel like you were actually a friend and member of the team. You would occasionally bring in snacks or treats left over from your club activities and share them with the boys. And sometimes, Iwaizumi would smile at you as you handed them out and developed friendships with him and his team. Those were the moments you cherished the most and made all those power serves Oikawa left to bruise your arms worth it.

 

In contrast, the more you talked to Oikawa, the more he seemed to annoy you. Sure, you were all friends now, but often he would flirt too openly with you and try to charm you into a blush with a side comment here and there. To which you would clearly object and deny his playful advances. Sometimes, rather rudely. You’d often get a “How mean!” or “You could at least hesitate a little more!” calling after your retreating figure.

 

Ironically, that gave you something to laugh about with Iwaizumi, since the ace usually does the same to his best friend. And as you all get closer, you start walking home with him and Oikawa on the days you join their practices since you live in a similar direction. Most of the time, you would talk about volleyball, and when Iwaizumi would threaten or insult Oikawa about something, you would often gang up on the captain with him. Not on purpose, of course. Oikawa usually brought it on himself whenever he asked you for your opinion, and your honesty just happened to coincide with Iwaizumi’s opinions.

 

And the more you got to know all of the boys, the more you would realize how much you really did like Iwaizumi. Now, not as a figure on the court, but as a person as well. He’s just so smart, diligent, strong, considerate, funny at times, and just really, really cool . You wonder why so many girls love Oikawa so much when he can be kind of pompous and dorky, but at the same time you’re quite thankful that you have different taste in guys. Less competition to deal with.

 

But even so, you haven’t been able to find the right moment to confess to him. It was your intention all along to get to know him and then tell him your feelings. But you’ve been enjoying your time with him and the team so much that you weren’t able to find a perfect time to tell him. Though you’re realizing now that, even if you’re just here laughing beside him, or looking at him from the stands, you can wait a little longer.



*



If Seijou had defeated Shiratorizawa and gone to nationals, you probably would have been so caught up in the moment that you would have confessed to him right then and there. But unfortunately, the third years’ volleyball games came to an end far too quickly. Karasuno was crazy this year and you were crushed when you saw everyone’s tears. You could feel their anguish from where you stood in the stands and you cried as much as any of the members.

 

You managed to catch most of the boys before they had boarded the bus, and you even hugged Watari since he seemed to be one of the ones crying the most. When you had let go of him, you wanted to comfort another certain member who seemed especially frustrated with his last play, but everyone else seemed to have calmed themselves down for the most part already.

 

You only manage to get in a few words of “Good game” and such before everyone’s boarded the bus. Iwaizumi passes by you with a nod and you’re left disappointed that you couldn’t say more. But you face the reality that there’s not much you could have said anyway. You wish the world for this man and this team, so you swear that you’ll continue to support them however you can.



*



After the Spring High, the third years still occasionally come to practice because they’re bored or need a break from studying. And although you did get to know the new captain, he doesn’t call you in as much as Oikawa did. It’s not like there was an immediate need to anyway. But whenever the third years do come, you find it hard to turn them down when they ask you to join them. So after your club activities, you show up for the remainder of their practice with snacks in your clutches.

 

After one of these days a few months after the spring high had ended, and the third years had taken the general college entrance exams, you walk home with Iwaizumi (Oikawa had another university entrance exam to prepare for during the weekend). “It’s crazy, I can’t believe that you guys are graduating. Not to mention you and Oikawa-san are going to different schools, and I probably won’t be able to see your incredible combinations again. It’s all happening too soon.” you sigh.

 

“You can still play with the rest of the team even when we’re gone.” Iwaizumi offers, although he’s just as sad as you are.

 

“It’s not the same. I’ve really come to like this team.” you look up at him with a sad smile and sentimental eyes. It kills him a little bit. He doesn’t like this look on you. “Playing with you guys reminded me of how much I like volleyball.”

 

“Why did you stop playing anyway?” Iwaizumi is surprised he hasn’t asked you this before. You’ve never mentioned it yourself. He realizes a little too late that there must have been a reason for that, so he quickly covers himself, “If you don’t mind me asking… that is.”

 

“Hm… where to start?” you hum after a short pause. “Well, first off, I really like cooking. I have a lot of siblings to take care of while our parents work the day away, so I like taking care of them. And this school actually has a home economics club, so I just jumped at the chance, you know?” you chuckle.

 

Iwaizumi looks at you, waiting for you to continue but biting his tongue on the question he’s dying to ask, knowing you’ll answer it if you were really comfortable with it. “You’re probably wondering why I liked it enough to give up volleyball after I’ve been playing for so long, huh.”

 

“Well, you are pretty good. It’s kind of a shame that you can’t use your abilities to help the girls’ team. You would have been good on offense too.” he comments, remembering how you would spike or serve a few balls for fun before the practice games started.

 

“Yeah. That’s the thing, too.” your voice takes on a sadder tone, “I do like making a lot of plays. Offense is really fun, but since I usually excel so much in receiving, I’m always put in the libero position. So I’ve always felt really limited by people’s expectations for me. It’s kind of why I didn’t want to tell Oikawa-san about it before.” you explain.

 

“If that’s so, then why did you agree to help us in the first place?” Iwaizumi asks, although he already has a pretty good idea. Oikawa let slip in the clubroom once that you liked one of the members. And Oikawa himself was always a top candidate for receiving girls’ attention, so Iwaizumi had just assumed that you had agreed because of the captain. He did go out of his way to recruit you himself, after all.

 

You smile up at him sweetly, and it kind of makes his heart flip a little. Truth be told, although he acknowledged the likelihood of you liking Oikawa, he was quite jealous about it. In most cases, Iwaizumi would get annoyed at all of the nameless girls fawning over his best friend and distracting him from club activities. They would come around all the time, giving him gifts and cheering him on at practices or games, driving them wild when he would so much as smile at them.

 

Oikawa would make fun of him and how Iwaizumi was just jealous of his popularity when said ace started beating him up. And there was some truth in the jokes, even if only just a little. Although Iwaizumi didn’t put much effort into attracting the attention of the female species, he couldn’t help but feel somewhat inferior sometimes when his best friend was the ultimate chick magnet. After a point, it didn’t bother him too much since no one even knew these girls who came up and confessed their feelings out of nowhere.

 

But you weren’t just some girl. You had taken the time to get to know everyone on the team and their habits and their strengths and weaknesses. It was clear how much you liked volleyball and that you paid the team lots of attention and support, so he enjoyed how well-versed you were in volleyball. And although they were short sometimes, Iwaizumi really enjoyed the conversations he had with you. You were fun to be around, which is probably why you got a few admirers of your own in the team, himself included.

 

That trait in itself probably made you a better match with Oikawa after all. You’re pretty, good at volleyball, easy to talk to, entertaining, and somewhat popular, according to Watari. Not to mention you were one of the only girls who didn’t fawn and blush over every teasing remark Oikawa sent you. Realistically speaking, that would make you two an even better match, since Oikawa needed someone to put him in his place sometimes when Iwaizumi wasn’t there to do it. And the very thought of it pulls at his heartstrings.

 

“Well, it’s true that I wasn’t going to do it at first. But he was… persuasive.” you put it lightly, “Besides, I think it turned out for the better. I got to play volleyball again, and I got to meet you guys!” you flash him another dazzling smile. “Not to mention, playing with everyone is so different from watching from the stands. Seeing one of Oikawa’s serves from above and actually receiving one of them is worlds different. Crazy fun.”

 

Iwaizumi doesn’t miss the sparkle in your eyes when you talk about the captain’s plays. You must really admire him, and as much as it hurts him, he does want you to be happy.

 

“That goes for your spikes too! Oh man, when I first saw it coming at me, I thought you’d rip my arms off! But it was so exhilarating, receiving one of the ace’s spikes. The pain you feel after catching one of those kind of turns me on.” you shiver, “Man… does that make me kind of a masochist?” you laugh.

 

Iwaizumi tries to ignore the latter half of what you said to avoid images of you being turned on or in some compromising position that brings out your masochistic tendencies. Instead, he focuses on the praise you had dished out about his spikes. Coming from you, a pretty high-caliber libero, he feels a swell of pride that gets him to smile at you.

 

“Dunno. Maybe it does, if you like being on the receiving end of Oikawa’s new power serves.” he shrugs, “If you like Oikawa at all, it might seem that way.” he adds.

 

“You’re telling me.” you snort, “You’ve been friends with the guy forever, which is okay since you’re both boys. But as a girl, his jokes get to be too much. He always tries to flirt with me in public and it’s annoying. All the girls in my class and my club and even in other classes and grades ask me about him these days.” you huff with with exasperation. “Everyone thinks I’m going to marry him or something.”

 

That catches Iwaizumi’s attention. He tries not to show it, but the image of you in a beautiful white dress, hand in hand with Oikawa, squeezes painfully at this heart. Usually, he would go on lockdown and bring his walls up, but something about this talk you’re having with him has him spouting nonsense. Whether through spite, or vulnerability, or jealousy, or all of it, he doesn’t know. “Maybe you will.” he grunts.

 

You snort so loudly, it’s almost unseemly, “And what makes you say that?” you challenge him.

 

“I don’t know, I thought… well, not just me… I guess most of the team, too…” he’s babbling now, “That you… liked Oikawa.”

 

You had guessed as much. Everyone on the team must have thought that you were in love with Oikawa Toru as much as the next girl, and that you were practicing with the team mainly for his sake. But it was clear as day that there was hurt in Iwaizumi’s eyes when he said that. It was only for a moment but you could tell that he thought you liked Oikawa and he was upset about it. Possibly jealous.

 

You spit out a choked laugh, “Me… and Oikawa-san? Not happening.”

 

Iwaizumi doesn’t want to get his hopes up too soon, but he’s already asked more personal questions than he’d ever ask anyone in one evening, so he figures he’ll just roll with it, “Oh? And why’s that?”

 

“He’s not my type.” you answer simply, but still elaborate anyway, “He’s handsome and nice and capable and all, but a little too happy-go-lucky for me. Not to mention super childish. I have enough younger siblings, thank you very much.”

 

To your pleasure, Iwaizumi continues to push the boundaries. You weren’t calling him out for it, so he figured he might as well just keep going. Even though he could take Oikawa off the list, there was still a team full of boys in the volleyball club, so he couldn’t afford to cut his losses just yet. “So what is your type?”

 

You hum as you show him the smallest sliver of a somewhat devilish smirk, and stop walking, since this is the intersection where you usually separate. He almost thinks that you’re not going to answer him, but then you confess, “I prefer manly guys.” And after a short, heavy pause, you start walking backwards towards the direction of your house, “The ace types, I guess you could say.”

 

That look in his eyes was enough for you to drop your losses and decide to confess to him full on. But you would save that for another day. For now, you want to just relish in the sparkle that appears in his eyes and the dumbfounded look on his face. Not many people could do this to Iwaizumi Hajime, so you wanted to savor this. When you’re far enough away, you bid him a casual good night before turning on your heel to continue walking.

 

You can’t wait to see the look on his face when you confess to him for real. And the perfect opportunity was coming up soon… Things are looking up.



***



Personally, you were fond of cliches. You liked romantic movies with the dashing prince archetypes who saved the damsels in distress. You liked shoujo manga and courageous confessions and letters that asked your crush to meet you behind the school. You liked the predictable thwarting of the villains at the end of most stories. And you liked sweets as much as any other girl did.

 

What you didn’t like, however, was Oikawa’s impeccable timing that prevented you from ever getting close to confessing to your crush. And the same thing is happening to you now on Valentine’s Day, when you’re walking into the 3rd gymnasium with a cutely wrapped box of chocolates in your hand.

 

“Oh? [Name]-chan! I thought you weren’t coming today.” Oikawa throws his arms open in welcome when he sees you.

 

“I was just stopping by quickly to do something.” you subtly try to hide the box behind your back.

 

“Eh? Valentine’s Day chocolate?” Oikawa’s teasing smirk is back. And he doesn’t fail to see the subtle tint of pink in your cheeks. But before you can excuse yourself and make your way around to Iwaizumi, Oikawa starts spewing some shit about admiring you and how you’ve been a wondrous help to him and the team, but he can’t accept your feelings as of right now, not to mention he recently broke up with someone and he needs time to settle. You keep trying to find a way to politely interrupt him but it’s not happening.

 

At this point, although it was rude, you had been trying to just walk away from him. He teased you all the time about this kind of thing, but today he was just not letting up. You can’t get through him, and now even the coaches are starting to give you scolding, but somewhat amused looks. And although your eyes are looking to the other members for help, no one is coming to your aid.

 

“Don’t take it personally, alright? I’ll still accept your chocolate though! I’m sure it tastes wonderful.” he slaps a hand on your shoulder, smiling despicably.  

 

He’s really grating on your nerves now, so you try one last time to be civilized and calmly correct this misunderstanding that’s being put on like a play right now in front of the team. “Oikawa-san, there’s a mistake. I--”

 

“Don’t you worry, [Name]-chan. We can just forget this whole thing happened. Let’s just have a good Valentine’s Day, yeah?” the vein in your hand is growing more prominent as your clench your fist in irritation, listening to the shit this guy is spewing. “Although the idea of you slaving over a hot stove to perfect your chocolates as you thought of me is super cute. I’d love to have see--”

 

“Oikawa-san!! I don’t like you that way!!” you burst, slapping his hand off of your shoulder, “I didn’t come to bring you chocolate or confess my feelings to you! I like Iwaizumi-san!”

 

Now you’ve gone and done it. And the whole gym heard you too.

 

Oh well. It’s too late to turn back now. “Geez, do you think every girl who receives your balls has the hots for you? Unbelievable.” you’re rolling your eyes real hard to hide the fact that you’re actually incredibly embarrassed but too proud to hide away from your love declaration to Iwaizumi.

 

It does and doesn’t come as a surprise to you when Oikawa backs up a step, ruffling the back of his hair in an attempt to look innocent, “My, my, well isn’t this embarrassing. I’m sooo sorry for the misunderstanding. Then by all means, go ahea-- ACK!”

 

You had taken the nearest volleyball, which happened to be in Yahaba’s hands, and aimed the serve right at his face. Luckily for you, it landed right on the mark and Oikawa staggers back until he falls on his butt. “Jerk.” you practically hiss as you walk past him and towards Iwaizumi on the other end of the court.

 

Oikawa knew that you liked someone on the team, and he had probably figured out a long time ago that it wasn’t him. But you had been doing your best not to reveal anything by talking to and treating everyone equally. Just having the information itself still made you an easy target for the insufferable captain to poke fun at. Obviously, you had romantic intentions today, and he pushed your buttons until the very end. So you can justifiably say he had it coming.

 

The walk over to Iwaizumi is awkward, to say the least. Everyone is watching you, it’s almost dead silent, and even your crush himself seems at a loss standing where he is, waiting for you to reach him. Luckily, you’re too busy fuming over Oikawa’s instigation that you make it there without too many inhibitions, “Sorry about that. I didn’t really mean for it to come out that way. But here.” You hold the flat rectangular box the size of a small book, wrapped in paper that has the school colors on it, out to him.

 

“Thanks.” he accepts the box from you as casually as if it was a textbook, somehow hiding how he can barely hear anything with his pulse pounding so loudly in his ears, “I’ll enjoy them.”

 

“You know those aren’t friendship chocolates, right?” you challenge him with a raised eyebrow.

 

“Yeah, I know.” he replies with a small smile of his own.

 

“Okay. See you later then.” you raise a hand as you take your leave, unable to hide the beaming smile from your face. Iwaizumi likes it. A lot.

 

“Oh, by the way, the rest of you guys can have these chocolates.” you pull a plastic bag out of your school bag and hand it over to Watari, “Everyone was making them for today and we ended up with too many, so you can share them amongst yourselves.”

 

“Thanks.” Watari thanks you first, being the recipient of the goods, and the rest of the team holler out thank you’s to you as well as you leave the gym.



***



Fast forward into Iwaizumi’s final year in university, he’s enjoying life with everything he’s built up around him until now. He’s gotten through college on his volleyball scholarship, shown Oikawa the prowess of his college volleyball team as their new ace, about to graduate with honors, a pretty good internship lined up for him after graduation, and the most wonderful girlfriend by his side.

 

The two of you had just gotten back from a date at the large park nearby, riding bikes and enjoying a picnic. Now you were just lazing around in your shared apartment, making out on the king-sized bed you shared. The kisses were innocent enough, since the two of you were just basking in each other’s affection after a perfect day. It was times like these when you both wondered if they were truly real.

 

You separate and Iwaizumi looks at you with so much emotion in his eyes, you feel like you might cry. You would do it too, being the emotional puffball you are when it comes to him.

 

Your boyfriend sighs thoughtfully, “How did I ever get so lucky?” he mumbles, almost to himself, as he tucks your hair away behind your ear. “You’re so perfect.”

 

“I’m not perfect. I just have good taste in guys.” You smile and kiss his nose. And then you lower your tone to croon into his ear, “I only go for the aces.”

 

With the drop in the mood, Iwaizumi rolls on top of you and begins kissing you again, but more fiercely this time, as if to show you his ace’s power. Your words bring back memories of the time you had first confessed to him in high school. Although they were casual and curt, they said so much.

 

He grew such an ego that day that you had showed up unannounced to the Seijou gym to give him Valentine’s Day chocolates. After you had left, everyone had run up to him and ruffled his head or punched his arm or called him a “sly dog” or did something else to cause a ruckus. It probably wasn’t so much the confession itself, but how he had accepted it so easily, in front of the whole team, nonetheless.

 

Oikawa teased him extra hard, saying things like, “Looks like Iwa-chan finally got a girl to notice him. I’m so proud.” or “Only a girl with a receive as strong as hers would be able to handle your gruff personality, Iwa-chan.” And despite how Iwaizumi would usually try to knock him out at those comments, he didn’t really care at the time, because he knew that you liked him. You had confirmed, in front of everyone, that you liked him. It was also kind of satisfying how you didn’t really pay Oikawa the time of day whenever he teased or flirted with you.

 

That last year at Aoba Johsai was his favorite, because amidst all the anguish from their team’s losses at the volleyball tournaments, all the college exam preparations, and all the pressure to graduate and start on the track toward adulthood, he had met you. You were already an interesting character on your own, being a girl libero helping out the boys’ volleyball club. But your personality that drew everyone in and easily embedded you into the group, and all the support you gave them at practice, official games, or just providing snacks, and how sincere you were when you were just talking to him… He fell for you easily.

 

When you had revealed to him your secret insecurities about volleyball, he was still confused as to why you gave up on it. But he soon realized that, rather than give up, you just pursued what you truly wanted instead. And he admired your courage to break away from everyone’s expectations.

 

And now look at you. You were a top student in the culinary school you attended and you were already working as a chef intern at a relatively prestigious hotel restaurant in the city. Soon, you’d be cooking for huge public figures or opening your own restaurant business. He was proud to be by your side as you reached success.

 

He was even more happy that you were in his arms right now, pliant and wanton underneath him as he kissed you like that was no tomorrow. As you both remove your clothing, he revels at the curves of your body underneath his large hands. You’re wearing some pink lace, and he thinks it suits you to a T.

 

In fact, he likes it so much, that he thinks he’ll have you keep it on for a while. Diving down to the space between to your legs, he moves the patch of fabric aside to take a long look at your contracting pussy. Iwaizumi can tell you’re excited to feel him, so he pushes forward and thrusts his tongue into your slit without warning. He’s always been kind of rough with you, and you’ve always loved it.

 

You love how he’s so sure of his advances, how calloused his fingers are, how abrasive his movements are, because they’re all just so… manly. So Iwaizumi. So ace-like. You’ve always loved the powerful ones, especially. And just like you liked to receive a good spike, you loved to play victim to Iwaizumi’s harsh touch.

 

Right now is a good example of how rugged he gets. His tongue is just thrusting in every direction without so much as a care to how you react. Not until he finds that particular spot that has you jolting, at least. When he does find it, he licks ruthlessly at it without pause until you’re squirming and trying to rip his hair out of his head.

 

The only thing more brutal than his pace is his mercilessness. He pulls his tongue out and licks at the mess that’s dampened his face just when you’re about to reach your peak. With a tortured whine, you turn over onto your stomach and rotate your head around to look at him with wide, innocent eyes. You bring your thumb between your teeth for good measure and you can tell he recognizes it.

 

Iwaizumi is all too familiar with this look in your eyes. He knows that you want him to torture and punish you like you did everything that ever wronged him. So he obliges. Slipping his fingers underneath the hem of your panties down through the holes for the legs, he pulls up, using your panties like a crane to arch your butt up into the air. And fuck if you don’t love how the lace fabric digs into your slit and rubs you all the right ways.

 

“Oohh-- OH!” your moan is cut off by the slap to your ass cheek. There’s an aftershock from the sting left on your butt, but you love it. Hell, it makes everything feel even better. He spanks you again and you jerk before shivering in response, incredibly pleased. “Yeees… Hajime…” You clench around the scrunched fabric digging into your slit.

 

“Please.” Another stinging smack that turns your skin even redder, “Call me ‘sir.’” he says in a calm, but amused tone. You like this tone. Iwaizumi often uses it when he’s feeling more playful. Oh, how you want him to play with you, or just rough you up real good.

 

“Sir,” you request, “May I speak freely?”

 

He seems to think about it for a while, before finally granting permission, “You may. But tell me,” he pulls you up higher by the panties before letting you drop and bounce back onto the bed with a whine, “What could you possibly have to say when your mouth is going to be busy?”

 

“N-Nothing. Sir.” you gulp, turning to sit back up, and groaning at the friction of your underwear still lodged into your slit as it drags along the bed sheets. “I was just…”

 

“What you will do is kneel in front of me, kiss my cock, and beg for my mercy until I tell you to stop.” he orders.

 

You respond with a delighted, but obedient grin, “Of course, sir.”

 

And sliding your legs behind you to hold yourself up on your knees and elbows, you lower to your head to grip Iwaizumi’s hardening cock in your hand. With a gentle kiss, you open your lips to slide the head into your mouth. You only swirl your tongue around it a couple of times before Iwaizumi growls, signaling his impatience. So you start moving down to suck the rest his cock into your mouth, inch by inch.

 

You don’t seem to stop advancing, because even when the tip of his head grazes the back of your throat, you keep pushing forward. The squelching noises you make as you try to bring one of his balls into your mouth too makes Iwaizumi groan. He can swear you’re calling his name through the garbling noises you make with your throat around his cock. The vibrations send shivers up his spine through his dick.

 

His gaze had never left yours, but you were not returning the favor all this time, which just won’t do. “You seem to be enjoying yourself.” Iwaizumi grunts in his lowest octave as he forces you to look up at him by pulling your hair back. “You greed is endless. You’ve taken every inch of me and you still can’t get enough. Look at you,” he hisses as he holds both sides of your head and starts gently thrusting his hips against your face, testing the limits of your gag reflex. “How much dick will ever be enough for this dirty mouth of yours? Huh?”

 

You just helplessly gorge yourself on your boyfriend’s (currently turned master) cock being forced in and out of your mouth at a pace that fulfills his leisure. It’s a little hard to find the right intervals to breathe, but you love the rough handling. Iwaizumi’s strong hands and rough grip, his merciless grin, with the darkest eyes to match.

 

But he finally relents when you start coughing a bit, and holds you up by the handfuls of hair in his fists, “Did you finally get enough?” he bends down to murmur at eye level.

 

You coughing restricts your ability to form proper words at the moment, so you just nod. But he doesn’t seem to like that. Still using his grip on your hair to guide you, he pushes you back onto your back on the bed and hovers over you menacingly, “What happened to that courage to ‘speak freely’ you had? Don’t tell me that you’re suddenly speechless.”

 

“It was more than satisfactory,” you cough, “Sir.”

 

His eyes glint excitedly at your dedication to this little roleplay. But he doesn’t give anything away in his expression.

 

“But sir,” you continue, stroking his strong arms with your hands, “It still wasn’t enough for me.”

 

“And just what else could you possibly need to satisfy your greed?” he challenges.

 

“I’d be so honored if I could feel you inside of me right now, sir.” you smile coyly up at him, still stroking his godlike biceps.

 

Iwaizumi grunts as he releases your hair and stands up to stroke himself a couple of times, “Since I’m feeling generous, I’ll indulge you. So why don’t you use this opportunity to speak freely and tell me exactly what it is you’d like me to do.” he positions himself right between your legs, but makes no further moves.

 

Pulling the fabric of the panties to the side, knowing the sight will further arouse Iwaizumi, you give him your most demure smile, “Sir, please push as deep as you can inside of me. And be as rough as you please.”

 

“Hmph.” he sniffs, but pulls you closer to him by the tops of your thighs. Iwaizumi makes quick work of the insertion, and your long moan comes out like a lingering high note in a song. “Is this what you want so desperately? Huh?” he grunts as he starts out slowly thrusting into you, pulling out to the tip only to slam himself back into you.

 

“Yes. Yes! Please!” you continue to cry out as he speeds up the pace and starts pounding into you with cruel force. Your arms are spread out beside you, clawing at the sheets as you cry for more. The more pleasure you feel, the murkier your vision becomes. Everything starts to become fuzzy as you find it more difficult to process the images before you. Iwaizumi’s force and speed are unforgiving and overwhelming. Your words start becoming garbled as well. Your thoughts can’t keep up with your physical sensations.

 

You’re really crying at this point and just about to hit the tip of sweet, sweet release when Iwaizumi abruptly and quite rudely pulls out. “Hajime!” you cry actual tears, sitting up with desperate, begging eyes like he’s wronged you.

 

“What was that?” his cold, ruthless tone has returned. And what’s even more ruthless is the iron grip he has on his cock, painfully swollen and red, and covered in your wetness. The sounds of the wet friction as he strokes himself give you another kind of torture, a threat to come without you.

 

“No, please! Sir!” you almost forget to add. “Please. I need you, sir.”

 

“Is that so?” he raises a challenging eyebrow just to tease you, trying to hide the fact that he’s painfully hard and needs to come as much as you do. “You had stopped speaking freely, so I assumed that you didn’t have any more orders.”

 

“No, please. I beg you.” you’re really crying now, tears are falling down your cheeks, “I’ll do anything. I don’t want to come without you.”

 

“Anything. I like the sound of that.” Iwaizumi smirks, and if you weren’t in such a helpless state of mind, you’d find that super hot.

 

But things take a dark turn - literally - when your vision is completely blocked out by the necktie that Iwaizumi ties around your eyes. As he tightens the knot around the side of your head, you shiver from the brushing of his fingers through your hair. He leaves you to sit there for a minute while you get adjusted to the darkness, and to completely lose the comfort and stimulation of one of your senses.

 

You suck in a gasp when you feel the back of his fingers brush against your cheek, “You’re suddenly quite red. Don’t tell me you’re suddenly feeling shy.” you can hear the smirk in his voice so loud and clear that you don’t need to see it.

 

“Sir…” you breathe, raising your chin in hopes that he’ll lean down to kiss you. But that comforting pressure escapes you as you feel the bed adjust with the new weight that’s settled behind you. His fingertips leave only butterfly touches along your back, only enough to remind you of his presence, but nothing close to the saturation you need.

 

You need Iwaizumi’s hands on you. You need to feel his calloused hands running along your sides, squeezing your breasts, rubbing at your clit… just something... “...Anything.” your desperate thoughts slip out in a whisper.

 

Only his breath touches you by the ear as he leans in to ask, “What was that?”

 

Squeezing your blinded eyes tighter together and gulping nervously, you breathe out, “Sir. Please touch me. Do anything. I… really need you.”

 

“Sure.” he says easily, and your head snaps up too hopefully. “You’ll have to find me yourself though. Then you can do whatever you like.”

 

When you feel his weight leave the bed, you turn your head nervously, calling out to him, “Sir? Sir? Where did you go? Sir.” You stand on your knees, clutching your torso with a gasp from how sensitive you still are.

 

And you end up on all fours again, crawling around the area of the bed, touching every inch you can reach in hopes of brushing against some hot, muscled flesh. When you’ve searched all but underneath the bed, you drop your head in a sad sigh. Iwaizumi sure likes to torture you, just as much as you like being tortured. You suppose that’s one reason why you’ve lasted this long as a pair.





At the corner of the room, Iwaizumi sits like a pimp in the bedroom chair, comfortably naked with his legs spread wide apart and his head leaning on his fist while his elbow props him up on the armrest. He watches with an amused smile as you gently slide off of the bed and get on your knees and hands on the floor, feeling around for him. Even he didn’t realize he had such a sadistic side to him until he met you.

 

Sometimes, he gets a quick flashback of a time back in high school when you would gush about how exciting it was to receive a harsh spike from him or a serve from Oikawa, and the pain of it all. And when you first started sleeping together, you were always open to letting him take the lead. In the beginning, Iwaizumi was a blushing, bumbling wreck of nerves when you would tell him to spank you, or to choke you, or tie you up.

 

And now look at him. He has you crawling around on the floor, begging for him to fuck you as he just sits there, basking in your desperation for his dick. Of course, it’s hard for him - in more ways than one, obviously - to sit there with an erection as red and hot as the sun and just wait for you to find him without giving you any hints, but he’s really, really enjoy this. He feels kind of sick for loving this as much as he does, but it gets him going to know that you love it as much as he does, if not more.

 

“Sir…” You call weakly, as you reach another corner of the room without a single bone thrown your way. He just admires the curve of your body as you crawl and pad closer to him. Goddamn, the view is nice. And when you finally face him, with his tie around your eyes and your breasts dangling and being squeezed by your arms, he can’t stop the small groan from leaving his throat.

 

“Sir.” you’re alert, and you continue to advance until your chin bumps gently against his knee. “Found you.” you smile, resting a hand against his calf. You leave a gentle kiss on the knee you bumped into, and then move up to kiss up his thigh.

 

When your hand finds his other leg, you kiss at the other thigh as well. You can’t see them, but you know how toned they are, and how much attention they deserve. The kisses you leave on his thighs are slow and sensual. And finally your hands find their way to his thighs and your mouth kisses the length of his shaft, and you heave a sigh of relief, “Thank goodness. I was worried that maybe you weren’t hard anymore, sir. I apologize for taking so long.” you smile up at him, even though you don’t know if you’re completely facing him.

 

“Hmm.” he hums simply, his head still resting on his fist. “Well?”

 

You take him in your hand, stroking him a couple of times just in case. Iwaizumi is quite glad you can’t see the pained expression he’s making at your touch. He would really like nothing more than to just get back inside you. But he did say that you were free to do as you liked, so he’ll keep his word. “May I, sir?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

Then you stand up, pulling your panties down and tossing them to the side, and throwing your bra to join it quickly after. And with a quick spin around, you plop yourself down on Iwaizumi’s lap. The brush of his hot cock against the line of your slit sets you ablaze in anticipation, and you feel your cheeks coloring all over again.

 

After reaching down to grab his length again, you lift it up to slide yourself down onto it, sighing in both relief and need. You grip the edges of the armrests where Iwaizumi’s arms aren’t resting, and use them as leverage to lift yourself up and sink back down on him again. “Oh…” you groan in bliss, you back bowing and hair falling against Iwaizumi’s face. “Sir… Oh, sir….” you moan as you continue to ride on him, wishing he would touch you.

 

“Please, sir. Put your hands on me.” you beg, your pace unrelenting desperate how your legs burn from the effort of keeping this up. “Please, please.”

 

The room is saturated with nothing but the sound of your panting and begging, and you continue like this until you come on top of him. It lasts for quite a while, and despite being blindfolded, you’re seeing all kinds of spectrums of color. But by the time you come down from your high, your tears soaking the inner layer of Iwaizumi’s tie from the pleasure of it all, your boyfriend still hasn’t come. So after catching your breath, you stand up and turn around to face him in the bedroom chair, “Sir, you haven’t come yet, right?”

 

“That’s right.” he replies.

 

“Would you like me to take care of the rest?” you point to your mouth with a smile, even sticking your tongue out a little bit.

 

“Oh, you’ll take care of it, alright.” his voice is closer now, like his face is right in front of yours. “Don’t think that I’ll be so kind as to let you off just like that.”

 

And without warning, he pulls you by the small of your waist back down onto the chair and before you know it, he’s inside you again. And after making sure your legs wrapped around his waist, he takes a strong hold of your thighs and stands again, pushing farther into you at another angle, “Oh!” you cry, pulling his head closer to your chest, “Sir…” you breathe heavily, feeling wetter than you’ve ever been.

 

Without further warning, he starts slamming himself into you at breakneck speed, and you wonder how he’s still able to stand with how hard he’s going. Or at least, that’s what you would be wondering if you weren’t screaming and pulling at his hair and crying for god at Iwaizumi’s merciless pace. You’re seeing white spots appear again behind the darkness of your blindfold, and you’re so overstimulated that you forget the little act you had been working so hard to keep, “Ah!! Ah!!! Hajime, oh my god! Yes…!! Hajime…”

 

When Iwaizumi feels your grip on his shoulders weakening, he walks back to the bed with practiced poise before letting you fall back onto your back. Since the act is up, he just takes hold of your hips and slams his lips back into yours, although he never relents on his incredible speed. You moan loudly against his mouth as his emission stimulates your own, making you come again right after him.

 

It takes the both of you several minutes to calm down. Iwaizumi pulls out slowly, and pulls the tie off of your head. It takes you another minute to readjust to the lighting, and yet another to take in how attractive your boyfriend is. You pull him down into a hug, blinking slowly and smiling lazily, “I fucking love you so much.”

 

His deep chuckle resonates through your skin and you sigh blissfully as he returns the feeling, “I love you, too. Probably more.”

 

“Wanna bet?”

 

“Yeah.”

Notes:

i feel kinda bad for always making reader-chan like iwaizumi and ignore oikawa, so i will try to come up with something that will make up for how much i used him in the past two chapters. but it's so much fun seeing oikawa not get what he wants hahaha. the end of the semester is here and i'm working on a bunch of projects, but i wanted to get this out for the end of s3 no matter what. and hopefully i'll be able to write something for the holidays. until then, feel free to cry with me in the comments or on tumblr :)

blushinggray.tumblr.com

Chapter 9: Semi Eita - B-B-Bad Girls

Summary:

there's this rivalry going on between you and the student council president, but this one volleyball guy keeps butting in...

there's a lot of perspective changing so i've tried to use a system

* signals switching pov
*** signals time lapse (and possibly switched pov as well)

Notes:

well HELLO. so there are several things. first off, thank you!!! for all your patience and comments and kudos and everything, it really makes me happy to see the love for these works. and i hope you have some happy winter holidays.

next, sorry... because this little plot bunny just grew and grew until it became a 25k monster, so if you're planning to read this all the way through in one go, have some time on you... i was thinking of separating it into parts or starting a completely separate thread for it, but i figured whatever. this will likely be my biggest work for this thread and will a good way to mark the end of the year.

also, i didn't really want to use girl hate as a plot device but I NEEDED CONFLICT, so forgive me. and for this entire chapter as a whole... i know there may be some pacing problems or inconsistencies, but i didn't want to make it longer than it already is...

this is partially inspired by the lyrics to Lee Hyori's "Bad Girls" and a little bit of Toradora.

and lastly, if you're looking to adopt some more sons, Cheer Danshi is my latest sports anime discovery. i didn't know i needed more male cheerleaders in my life until now. it's no haikyuu but it does have a bit of depth to it. also, one of the protagonists has nishinoya's voice and the most gorgeous eyeline i have ever seen drawn. please love him with me.

that should be it for now. thanks for putting up with me.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

It’s insane how your popularity has grown through the years. Everyone is already staring at you when you reach the shoe lockers, and they continue to follow you as you saunter through the halls. When you reach the floor that your classroom is on, the hoards of people crowding the hall suddenly disperse like the Red Sea, as if you were Moses. You simply cross the rest of the distance to your classroom without acknowledging anyone. You almost make it too, until you hear a familiar voice call your name.

 

She’s walking up to the same classroom from the other direction and has a bright smile plastered on her face. You reply to her bright greeting with a scowl, “What do you want.”

 

Your acidic tone paired with the dangerous glint in your eyes should have warded her off like the majority of the student body, but this chick has some resolute backbone. “[Surname]-san, don’t be so daunting. It’s just been so long since I’ve seen you, since you never really come to school.”

 

To any other bystander, Matsuki Aiko must look like the most charismatic student body president Shiratorizawa Academy has ever had. A natural leader, tons of friends and admirers, a good name shared between teachers and faculty, and a pretty face to top it all off. She must be gaining major points right now, publicly confronting the school yankii who’s finally shown up to school for the first time since the beginning of the term.

 

But you can tell, through your bullshit-filtering judge of character, you can hear that hidden malice in her first greeting to you. You know that she finished her sentence in her thoughts with, “because you’re such an eyesore” and she’s gotten really good at hiding her vicious smirks. You know all of this, because you would not be who you are today if not for Matuski Aiko.

 

“Ever think that it’s because I don’t want to see you that I don’t show up?” you roll your eyes.

 

“Eh? Why ever would that be?” she pretends to be confused, “Oh wait, could it be that you’re still upset about that softball game last year? [Surname]-san, I’m sorry about the events that transpired that day, but it’s all in the past now.”

 

“Shut the hell up. You know full well that that game has nothing to do with anything. But now that you bring it up again, it gives me another reason not to have anything to do with you.” you hiss, trying to make your way towards the classroom.

 

But the bitch won’t give up. She’s stepped right in front of you, causing all sorts of murmurs to start tickling the room. Gossip about what happened at aforementioned softball game, about what kind of inner conflict went down between you and the president, and why you’re at school today in the first place. It’s the end of the school day, after all. “[Surname]-san, I know you may not have the most positive opinion of me--”

 

You interrupt her with a snort, “No kidding.”

 

“--But please know that I’m here to help you, as student council president, as a classmate, even as a friend if you’re up for it.” she continues her spiel with the most convincing award-winning smile that she probably practices when reciting speeches.

 

The lengths to which this girl will go to improve her image. She’d make it big as a politician. If all these other students weren’t right in the vicinity, she wouldn’t be spewing any of this diplomatic support bull to you. But obviously, it’s your word against hers, and unlike like Matsuki, your kind of popularity wouldn’t stand a chance against hers.

 

“Awesome, thanks president. I’ll think about it.” you say without a hint of enthusiasm just to bore the crowd and hopefully encourage them to leave already.

 

Matsuki’s eyes light up in a relatively believable show of hope, “Really? I’m so glad.”

 

“Yes, as you can see, I’m always just waiting around for a helping hand to come by and bare itself to me. And I’m just ever so grateful that you heeded to my silent call for help. I’ll definitely be in your care.” you put in your best efforts to act as fakely sweet as Matsuki does. But it’s not only the president who finds your sarcastic words of endearment weird. Her cronies are looking between each other at a loss, and you can feel several stares from around you.

 

But you break out in a small chuckle, unable to lie to yourself, “Just kidding. You and your fake resolve can go burn in the deepest circle of hell if you’re gonna keep up with your underhanded agenda. Let me know when you’re ready to play fair.” you make sure not to even brush shoulders when you walk past her, ignoring the curious whispers that have started rustling over your vague statements.

 

You think you’re finally free, but looks like she isn’t letting you have the last word at all today. She even grabs your arm as she makes a last desperate attempt to feel like she won this pointless argument, “[Surname]-san! This is about that game after all, isn’t it?”

 

The both of you know that it’s much more than that, that you’re referring to how she’s always been competing with you, but with shady strategies. You both are quite similar in some aspects. Hotheaded, competitive, striving to be the best (in your own ways), natural go-getters, and you both possessed such natural latent talent in a number of ways. Maybe in another life, you and Matsuki would have even been friends. But if you had to pick out the biggest difference between the two of you, it would be your fighting styles.

 

You would consider yourself to be a relatively fair competitor, in both concrete and casual competitions. But Matsuki Aiko is the type of antagonist who drags down her opponents rather than improving herself. Of course, that softball game last year was only one of many examples of how she would use underhanded tactics to either sabotage you or get a head start. At first, you thought her sense of competition was healthy, but eventually you saw the subtle and building malice in all of her actions towards you. As long as she remained like this, you would not ever associate with her, no matter how many lives you lived through.

 

“Let go.” you request calmly, holding your temper for her first chance. You don’t like it when people touch you. You’ve always felt that it was their impatient attempts to get through to you without actually trying to help you first, or insincere displays of understanding.

 

“[Surname]-san, I’ll gladly have a rematch with you anytime. But please don’t go on hating the world and living this way.” Matsuki pleads.

 

Hating the world? She doesn’t know jackshit about how you live. You had done your best up until this point, but you can’t hide your scowl any longer, “You’re starting to piss me off. If you know what’s good for you, let go of me. Right. Now.” you hiss, turning your head only halfway to address her.

 

“Don’t try to threaten me, [Surname]-san. You can’t keep avoiding school and your responsibilities forever. And if you’d only accept our help--”

 

“I don’t care if you’re student council president or a world ambassador,” you tear your arm away from Matsuki’s relatively strong grip, “But I don’t want any help of yours.” you size her up. And you don’t know why it took this long for your intimidation to set in, but she finally looks a little scared. Despite how she tries to keep her posture, she blinks a little too quickly and you’re too close not to notice her gulp.

 

“What’s going on here?” God bless, a teacher has shown up. Now you can finally escape this petty instigator and her audience. But once you whip around, you suddenly feel your heart drop a little.

 

“Ah, [Surname]-san. There you are. Glad you made it in time.” the teacher addresses you and gestures towards the classroom you had been trying to enter for the past ten minutes. “I have your exam ready, so please come in and set up your materials.”

 

“Yeah,” you answer, walking around the tall volleyball club members who had shown up to the scene without you realizing. You pick a desk and take out your single pencil and eraser as the teacher makes to close the door.

 

Someone darts in quickly, asking to retrieve something he forgot before grabbing it and letting the teacher close off the classroom again. But you don’t miss Matsuki’s cheerful greetings to the volleyball club boys before it actually slides all the way shut.

 

Your teacher catches your attention again before you can snap your only pencil in half, “[Surname]-san, do you have the homework you were supposed to do? I can grade some of it while you take the exam.”

 

“Yes, sir.” you answer, pulling out the perfectly organized binder of all the homework you had done in the past two weeks. Each subject was separated by dividers and they were ordered by date assigned. You hand over the book casually as if you hadn’t put in as much effort on it as you did.

 

And you don’t miss the small smile your teacher makes as he flips through and easily finds the section for his subject, “Nice work as always, [Surname]-san.”

 

You grunt some sort of response before looking down to start your exam.

 

*

 

Semi Eita is a respectful guy. He knows when to butt in and back off. But like anyone else, he has a strong sense of curiosity. When he saw so many students still crowded around his classroom despite class being out of session, his wonder brought him closer to what he realized was something of a confrontation between the student council president and another student.

 

Originally, he had been on his way back to the classroom to retrieve a notebook from his desk that he had forgotten he needed, and the other third years were on their way down to the gym, so they said that they would wait up for him. They too, had seen the confrontation between the two girls as it seemed to be getting heated and the girl who the president was almost shouting at shook the atmosphere a little bit until the teacher showed up.

 

It was then that he remembered what he was here for in the first place, so while Matsuki was greeting his team members, he dashed into the classroom to get his notebook. As he was passing you, he couldn’t help but try to recognize your face. It was a familiar one, but not one he saw often. Your hair is short and dyed in a silver-white pixie cut, your makeup is dark and sharp enough to slice through metal, and you have more than one piercing on each ear. A bit of a rebellious appearance, so he doesn’t think he could easily miss you. Even as he leaves the classroom, this intense curiosity keeps his thoughts lingered on you.

 

It’s not until he and the other third years are halfway towards the gym that he brings you up. He knows your name because it was always called during attendance in his class, but there was never an answer. So it was only today he was able to match your name with a face.

 

It seems that only Tendou knows who you are, even if only through rumors. “Guess you could say she’s our school yankii.” the middle blocker shrugs, “Apparently, she was a model student in first year, a young ace on the softball team and smart and all. I don’t know how it all happened, but eventually she just stopped showing up to school around the middle of second year. Although I think she shows up occasionally to take some tests or talk to teachers.”

 

“And the teachers are okay with this?” Semi can’t help but wonder.

 

“Beats me.” Tendou shrugs, “But I kind of wish I could’ve seen how far that fight would’ve gone. Two pretty girls getting it on! Student council president versus Shiratorizawa’s resident bad girl.” he starts chopping at the air around him in untrained movements.

 

“It did look like the two of them had some beef between them,” Reon mentions, “But luckily the teacher showed up before the situation grew out of hand.”

 

Soon, the topic switches up and once they reach the gym, all of their focus has diverted back to volleyball. And the drama surrounding your appearance settles since you don’t show up to school again for another couple of weeks.



***



The only reason you come to school again is for final exams. Usually, you would just skip them and take the supplementary exams during summer break since there would be less people present, but this year, you wanted to have your entire break free so you could work more hours. Which brings you to school during the daytime to be stared at like you’re a museum display yet again.

 

You’re in a relatively mellow mood, so you decide to overlook everyone’s childish gossip about you right in front of your face. And since you make it to the classroom right before the exams start, Matsuki doesn’t get the chance to start something with you. You still find it hard to believe that you’ve been stuck in the same class as her every year of high school, even if you don’t show up.

 

Your morning exams go by smoothly, and no one talks to you. But you should have known your luck wouldn’t last, because on your way back from the vending machine, little miss president herself shows up as you’re calmly sipping at your bottle of barley tea. “Look who decided to grace us with her presence on final exam week, our number one delinquent.” she doesn’t even bother with the fake smile this time, since she has no audience.

 

As much as you enjoy looking up her nostrils, you just blink before removing the bottle from your lips, “You’re welcome. I know it’s not often that you get this much sunshine for your harvest.” you drench as much sarcasm as you can into your voice before walking past her.

 

“Tch. Sunshine? More like a plague.” she scoffs under her breath.

 

“Can’t be helped when you’ve got such a twisted farmer planting false seeds all over the place.” you sigh, lifting your drink up to take another sip.

 

“What was that?!” you suddenly feel your collar being pulled back and you trip backwards, losing grip of your barley tea. Then a scream.

 

Turning around after regaining your balance, you see your drink plastered and seeping through Matsuki’s uniform, and dripping from some of her hair as well. “[Surname]!” she screeches, snapping all the other bystanders in the hallway to attention, “What did you do that for?” she whines in her innocent, confused voice.

 

“Oh shut up,” you roll your eyes, “You were one who pulled me back and made me spill it. You have no one to blame but your own hasty temper.”

 

“[Surname]-san,” she starts to sniffle, doing an admittedly amazing job forming some tears in her eyes. Someone put this chick on Broadway or something. “I don’t understand why you keep doing this. I’ve always tried my best to reach out to you, and… and… I just don’t know why you feel the need to react this way.” she finishes her performance with hiding her face in her hands with choked sobs.

 

“Did something happen here?” a deep voice pipes up behind you, sending a shiver of surprise up your spine. You turn around to find Ushijima and a couple other boys standing behind you. That bitch. So that’s why she decided to switch gears. Not just to create yet another misunderstanding that pinpointed you as the bad guy, but to get the school’s infamous athletic ace’s attention and probably pity or comfort.

 

The fact that she would cause a scene and play victim to get the boy’s attention pisses you off. Did she really have no other way around it? “You’re kidding me, right?” you can’t hold back your dead tone, “How pathetic.”

 

Without another word or opportunity for Matsuki to frame you for something else, you leave the scene and head back to your classroom. But before you’re even five steps away, a hand on your shoulder attempts to stop you. You pivot on your heel to pin the boy with blonde hair with your deadliest gaze to show him that you are not having any more of this. You recognize him as another classmate and one of the setters of the volleyball team. He looked like he had something to say to you at first but his resolve quickly dissipates when he realizes that arguing with you will likely wield no results, so he pulls his hand back and lets you storm off again.

 

*

 

Truth be told, Semi kind of has a thing for the student council president. He’s but a single admirer among the masses of them, but what’s not to like? Matsuki Aiko is pretty, kind, charismatic, diligent, intelligent, the whole package really. It’s not like he’s head over heels over her like a handful of her more active admirers, but he does feel that masculine need to protect her when the situation calls for it.

 

Maybe that’s why he had gone after you even after you had walked away. He was going to demand that you apologize for the mess you made of Matsuki and possibly ask about how the whole scene actually went down. But something about your ruthless glare stopped him. It wasn’t necessarily dangerous, but he could see a stubbornness in your eyes that he knew a stranger like him wouldn’t be able to budge. And… a flash of something else. Something similar to… desperation?

 

That’s the closest word he could find to what he believed he saw. He recognized that desperate glint as one he saw in many of his teammates in the past when they were on the edge of match points, just hoping that their play would go through. He probably exuded that look himself several times. Sometimes he still feels it from the sidelines of a volleyball game when Shirabu is on the court instead of him, that desperate want to play even though he knows he can’t with the choices he’s made as a player. Maybe that was the case for you? You wanted to do or say something that your pride or something else prevented you from doing?

 

It could have been that Semi had imagined all of it, since it happened so quickly and was just barely there. But that cryptic flash in your eyes combined with your immovable expression convinced him in a second that you would not be changing your mind, no matter what he said to you. You could obviously hold your own and would unlikely be intimidated by him even if he had confronted you.

 

So he had let you go, and allowed Matsuki to explain the situation. She had requested for the boys to let you off easy and not to make the incident such a big deal. “I’m… I’m sure that [Surname]-san didn’t mean it.” she had murmured while looking down, as if hoping that her words were true.

 

And after seeing her downturned mood, Semi’s sympathy for Matsuki kicked in and he forgot all about that look in your eyes that he had been contemplating. After Matsuki heads to the locker room to change out of her uniform, the boys head down to their original destination, the cafeteria, to take advantage of the rest of the lunch hour.





 

The next couple of days are relatively uneventful outside of the rest of final exams, and Semi is glad to be back on the volleyball court. After serving and tossing and spiking his stress of exams away, he feels quite refreshed. Actually, he feels even better when he comes back from the bathroom and sees his crush near the door to the gym. He’s about to greet her when he turns around the corner and gets a clearer view of who Matsuki is talking to.

 

It’s you again. How is it that whenever he sees you, it’s when you’re having some sort of spat with the president? By the looks of it, it’s getting kind of heated, actually. So he jogs the rest of the way, and just when he’s within hearing distance, you slam Matsuki against the wall of the gym building with one hand on her shoulder. The other hand currently rests on your hip as you lean in closer to her face, probably hissing something menacing, Semi would guess.

 

“Hey,” he immediately pulls you away from Matsuki by the arm that has her pinned against the wall, “What’s going on here?”

 

“Semi-kun!” Matsuki gasps, running to hide behind him and clutching onto his shirt tightly. He wouldn’t imagine the strong student council president like Matsuki to be scared, but here she was, cowering behind him as if she had really felt threatened by someone dangerous.

 

“President, why don’t you head into the gym first,” he suggests, “I’ll explain to the team later.”

 

“Yes.” she says quickly before dashing into the gymnasium. Your eyes follow her as she goes in, and you seem to see something else that sets you ablaze, because you murmur a curse at her before making a step to follow her. But Semi catches you by the wrist and swings his body between you and the door before you can move in on her.

 

The way you pivot and scowl at him reminds him of the first time he had tried to catch you. But unlike last time, instead of an obscure flash of some hidden emotion, he only sees anger and impatience in your eyes. He almost staggers a bit, because it actually feels like you had pierced him with a gaze that sharp. Clearing his throat, he loosens his grip on your wrist, “[Surname]-san, was it?”

 

“Who the hell are you?” you growl back, wrenching your arm from his hand but not moving towards the gym anymore. Semi internally sighs in relief.

 

“Semi Eita.” he answers more calmly than he feels.

 

“Well, Semi Eita,” you say before he can continue, “What makes you think that you have any business in the personal affairs of others?”

 

Your rather eloquent use of speech surprises him. You talk nothing like the stereotypical delinquent punk portrayed in media. “If your ‘personal affairs’ start to get violent, I won’t ignore something like that.” he answers.

 

“Valiant.” you muse humorlessly, “But you’d do well not to do it again. Don’t get involved in something you know nothing about.”

 

“So enlighten me. How much do I need to know that would allow for me to get involved?” he rises to challenge you. For some reason, your firey gaze riles him up just a bit. He can’t help but get caught up in your rebellious attitude.

 

You snort, crossing your arms and looking away for a moment, “What do you even think you know right now?”

 

“Well I’d hate to jump to conclusions, but from the looks of things, you’re kind of a bully. I don’t know why you’re out to get Matsuki, but I'm sure that whatever reason you have, it still won’t excuse violent behavior.” his attempt at a logical explanation kind of loses its substance with his passionate, defensive tone.

 

“Tch.” you scoff but you’re smirking. In an ironic kind of way. “Well that’s where you’re already misinformed,” you take an intimidating step closer to him and look up into his eyes without faltering, “As unbelievable as it may be, I’m not the bully here. Matsuki Aiko may have the face of an angel, but she’s the one who’s out to get me , not the other way around.” you emphasize your point by stabbing a thumb at your (well-developed) chest.

 

“Y-Yeah right,” Semi is sure that that stutter is going to cost him his life. You probably see right through his front. “No matter which way you look at it, you’re not the one who’s hiding in fear after your little arguments.”

 

“Looks that way, doesn’t it?” that ironic smile of yours grows, “It’s all timed and framed and angled so perfectly with my gruff temper and bad reputation, so I’m obviously the aggressor right?”

 

You take another step closer to him, and Semi steps back out of survival instinct, “Obviously, the perfect student council president has everyone’s best interests in mind, so she would never be the one actually causing problems, right?”

 

Another step forward for you, “Obviously, the hoodlum who never shows up to school only comes to cause trouble for the noble president, right?”

 

Another step back for him, “Obviously, even though no one saw how the fight began, or played out, the miscreant punk of the school is the instigator, right?”

 

At this point, Semi is pathetically pressed against the wall and his heart is pounding nervously. Your face is so close to his that he can see every shade of your eye makeup and even the flecks in your irises. He can’t think of a single word to retort back, and your smoldering gaze is making him sweat a little more than he’d like to admit. To top it all off, you slam your foot against the wall into the space between his legs, narrowly missing his jewelry box.

 

Despite being almost a head shorter than him, your spitfire intimidation is top-notch, and you’ve got him frozen in this humiliating position from your aura alone. If the leg already trapping him isn’t enough, you slam your palm flat against the wall beside his head, “Listen here, Semi Eita. If you can’t see past Matsuki’s halo and wings, then you have no business getting involved in her drama with me. And frankly,” you cock your head, “I don’t think you’d like the image of your precious little president getting shattered.”

 

Just then, Tendou’s voice interrupts your intense glaring at him when the middle blocker’s head pops out of the gymnasium door, calling, “Eita-kun! You oka….y?” he stops short when he sees the position his teammate has been pushed into. “Oh my, my… what’s going on here?” he wiggles his eyebrows as if he caught you two flirting.

 

For a moment, Semi is relieved of the pressure of your intense glare as you move your focus to Tendou. Slowly, you remove your limbs that were caging the setter and cast a last hard glare at him, “In any case, be careful.” you finish simply, picking up your bag and turning to leave.

 

When you’re a good ten steps away, Tendou cocks his head curiously at Semi, “Be careful of what?”

 

That’s a good question. There are so many things that Semi could think of that he should be mindful about. Be careful of what? Of you? Of Matsuki? Of what he thinks he sees happening between the two of you? Were you really a victim? And if so, how could Matsuki have been manipulating the situation every time? It didn’t make sense. There had to be some room for error. And although everything you said to him was a great riddle for him to work his head around, all he can feel right now is rage.

 

“That little…” he grumbles, clenching his fists, “She pisses me off.”

 

Really, you did. Despite how he was going to have a logical conversation with you, he got caught up in your fire and the more you badmouthed Matsuki, the hotter his blood boiled. He can’t even bother to remember what you had said right now, he’s steaming so hard. You had incinerated his pride and masculinity with a look, and despite his self-consciousness, he’s enraged at you.

 

Stomping back into the gym past a confused but incredibly curious Tendou who bounces after him, Semi continues grumbling and cursing about you and the fuck do you think you are? He only stops his griping when Matsuki comes up to him with worried eyes, “Semi-kun, are you alright? Did anything happen to you?”

 

The sight of the president’s worried, but still pretty face puts him slightly at ease. She’s safe, and worried about him. There’s no way that someone could fake kindness so easily. You were just putting misleading ideas into his head, and in the heat of the moment, he considered them. “Yeah, I’m fine.” he smiles warmly at Matsuki before daringly putting a hand on her shoulder, “How about you? Are you okay?”

 

“Yes, I’m fine, thanks to you. I’m so sorry for running off and not being of any help. I just… get kind of… intimidated by [Surname]-san sometimes.” she looks down guiltily.

 

“I kind of understand.” Semi rubs the back of his head, chuckling nervously, “She has her ways. But as long as you’re okay, then it’s fine.”

 

“Yes, thank you, again.” she bows gratefully, “I guess I should head back to the student council now. Sorry for the bother.” she waves goodbye to everyone as she leaves the gym.

 

Amidst the goodbyes, Semi spontaneously calls to her again and jogs up to her. Despite your warning, he can’t quell his intense curiosity towards this dynamic between you and Matsuki Aiko. “Uh… I… if you don’t mind me asking, what were you two… fighting about?”

 

“Oh.” she blushes, looking down. Semi does his best to hide his own slight flush from how cute he finds it. “It’s complicated, I guess. I might have unintentionally said some insensitive things to [Surname]-san, because she suddenly got so angry and… when I tried to ask for an explanation, she just came at me, saying that I don’t know anything about her. Which… I really don’t. So I guess she’s right.” she lowers her tone timidly, unlike her usual charismatic one, “It’s not that I don’t try to understand her, but… she just won’t let me in. Maybe I’m being insensitive by trying too hard.” she turns to the side, clutching her arm with her other hand.

 

Semi can’t help but feel his heart swell a little at how kind Matsuki is. Maybe it’s all just misunderstandings between you and her. She’s trying to reach out to you, and maybe you have trust issues. Surely, your temper wouldn’t help with the situation. “Well… whatever happens, I hope that you at least consider your own safety as well. Can’t have our student council president out of commission now, can we?” he smiles.

 

“I guess you’re right.” she takes a moment before looking up at him again, “Thanks again, Semi-kun, for caring. I appreciate it. Despite what happened today, I hope you don’t keep a bad image of [Surname]-san.”

 

Despite how the very mention of your name kind of puts him off now, he tries his best to quell his hot blood for now, “Okay.”



*



Who does Matsuki Aiko think she is? Who does Semi Eita think he is? You had enough drama in your three years of high school to supply a school anime for several seasons with just one crazy bitch. Now some musclehead volleyball player tries to jump into the mix too?

 

That stupid Matsuki bitch had caught you peeking into the boys’ volleyball club practice, and of course, thought it the perfect opportunity to start something. Does she get off on conflict? Or is it just her sense of righteousness that feeds her ego?

 

It had started as the relatively harmless rallying of offhand remarks at each other. She teased you for peeking at the boys, and you told her to mind her own business (in a more vulgar way, but details). She went off on a tangent about how you probably only come to school to spy on boys since you can’t have any of them. You went off about how you don’t need any boys who are stupid enough to fall for her fake angelic act.

 

And she had somehow twisted that into a way to touch on your lifestyle, saying how her act was nothing on yours. “You think your call for attention with your wannabe yankii look and behavior is going to get any response? As if anyone would even look at you, let alone--”

 

It was at that point that you had driven her against the wall, daring her to finish her sentence. You often tried to avoid getting physical, but this girl really has a mouth on her. She just doesn’t know when to stop. “If you think the way I dress and or act is a call for attention, then you need to take an elevator ride down into the deepest corners of hell to reevaluate your judge of character. Unlike you, I don’t care about others’ validation. I don’t need it. Your power hungry ass may need to round up the masses like cows, but I don’t need or want cattle. And I can set myself apart from all your little minions however I like. So don’t fucking act like you know a thing about me.”

 

You should’ve known from the moment she melted her hard gaze into a scared pout that she was waiting it out for a savior to come and reauthenticate her position as the charitable victim against the hotheaded thug. That was when fucking Semi Eita had swooped in to save his little princess and attempted to slay you, the evil dragon.

 

Of course, he had proved to be a disappointing adversary by how easily you pinned him against the wall. You recall seeing him before. He’s another student in your class, as well as a member of the volleyball club. But he was also the one boy who had come after you after that one incident with the barley tea. And this time, he really did confront you to your face. He has ambition, but he lacks backbone.

 

Not to mention a hopeless judge of character. You had tested him with your endless hints about the hard truth, but you could tell by the look in his eyes that he was just afraid of you. Despite whether or not he was biased towards Matsuki, he immediately assumed the worst about you. Of course, who wouldn’t? It’s not like you had any reason to get him to have a change of heart. You were this close to grinding his peewee into the wall with your foot.

 

Admittedly, you wouldn’t have gone that far with your intimidation with just anyone. Usually people squeal at the first or second threat you make, but this dude stood his ground for a good amount of time. And for a moment, you thought you saw a bit of spark in his eyes that would rise to the challenge. Alas, you had left the scene without a hope that Semi Eita would begin to understand you.



***



After final exams end, there’s still two weeks of school left in session. You don’t show up, of course, but your workplace isn’t too far from where your school is. Maybe around a twenty minute walk. You had gone through a lot of options to find a place that was farther away from school so there’d be a smaller chance of you running into anyone from school, but this was your only option that involved minimal social interaction (with your appearance and temper, you probably were not the best pick to deal with people) and a reasonable wage for a high schooler.

 

You’re just a dishwasher at a family restaurant, but you were promised a chance to help with food prep once summer break rolled around. Since you would be available to work more hours during the summer vacation (sure, you ditched school, but you still had to make time to study), you had to be given more tasks so you aren’t just lollygagging, waiting for more dirty dishes to come around.

 

Luckily for you, you managed to convince your boss to let you start on food prep after final exams, since you wouldn’t be going to class anyway, and all your summer homework would be due at the beginning of the next term. So you started working daytime hours during those last two weeks of school before summer break.

 

You usually get off kind of late, at least past dark. So you don’t usually run into any students from school by the time you head home. Most clubs let out at least an hour before the end of your shift. But maybe the student council has it tough at the end of the year, because you spot Matsuki Aiko heading down the street towards your restaurant.

 

Although you feel stupid doing so, you duck back into the restaurant, claiming to have forgotten something in your locker, and wait in there for another minute or two before reemerging to leave the restaurant yet again. Matsuki is nowhere in sight, and you calmly make your way towards your usual route home.

 

But once you turn the corner, you see a struggling girl being pulled into an alleyway by a couple of shady looking guys. Picking up your pace, you make a beeline for the alleyway you had seen them disappear behind. You cautiously peek into the alleyway from behind the wall of the building to check and decide on your best course of action.

 

It’s dark, but from the murky looks and muffled sounds of it, there are no more than three teenage guys, all kind of lean but still a bit lanky in build. You could probably take them yourself. But were they worth calling the police over?

 

Just then, the girl screams, “Get off of me! Mmrrmph!”

 

You groan. That voice was unmistakable. It had to be her , of all people. Just fantastic. Now you really don’t want to call the police lest she find some sort of opportunity to frame you for even this. But despite your utter loathing for Matsuki Aiko, you wouldn’t wish this kind of gross misfortune on even her. So with a begrudging frown on your face, you sweep into the shadows to aid the two-faced damsel in distress.

 

*

 

After over a week of stewing, Semi thinks he can stop the vein in his forehead from pulsing at the mention of your name. He tried his best not to think about that humiliating encounter with you, but you suddenly become a topic of interest within the volleyball club, no thanks to Tendou. He seems to be the one most amused by Semi’s unconditional anger at the topic of you.

 

At lunch during the last week of school, most of the third years of the volleyball club are all sitting together again when the student council president passes by to say hi. Ushijima uses the opportunity to thank her again for letting him borrow her notes and study with her for the final exams. She smiles back with a cute blush in her cheeks, “My pleasure, Wakatoshi-kun. If you ever need anything else, you know I’m here to help. Don’t even hesitate during summer vacation, okay? Even if it’s not about school.”

 

“Well, we’ll probably be busy with volleyball during the summer, but thank you. It’s very much appreciated.” he answers simply.

 

Soon after, Matsuki takes her leave and Tendou is the first to make a comment, “Man~ President Matsuki sure is charming. She’s pretty into you, don’t you think, Wakatoshi-kun?” he nudges the ace.

 

“Is that so?” he replies, sounding curious but not necessarily interested.

 

“Well, she is usually especially nice and helpful to you.” Tendou points out, “But I guess she’s only one of your many fans, so you probably wouldn’t notice, huh?”

 

“That’s true.” Semi ponders, “She has been quite enthusiastic towards you since first year.”

 

Semi isn’t blind. He can see that Matsuki Aiko takes more than just a liking towards his club captain and ace, just like many other girls in and outside of school. If Ushijima was actually interested in romantic relationships, the most likely choice would be the student council president. They’d be the power couple of the school.

 

And yet, despite Semi’s tinge of jealousy, he can’t bring himself to feel anything negative towards his crush or his teammate. It’s not like he can change Matsuki’s feelings, so he just sits back and accepts the situation as it is like he has with giving up his setter’s position. Sometimes, he feels kind of pathetic, almost like a pushover, but he still wouldn’t change his mind.

 

“Ohoho, are you jealous, Eita-kun?” Tendou tilts his head a little farther than necessary when he addresses the setter, “Even though you have such thriving potential with someone else.”

 

Despite how this group doesn’t usually get deep into the topic of girls, it still catches the others’ attention. “You do, Semi? Congratulations.”

 

“Hope you still keep volleyball within your priorities, though.”

 

Semi scowls unconsciously, “If you’re talking about [Surname], then I’d suggest you drop it and stomp it to the ground.”

 

“Hmm~? Why ever would you feel that way? What do you have against her?” Tendou asks curiously.

 

“She’s a rude, stubborn, troublemaker who doesn’t take anything seriously until her temper gets involved with it.” he huffs, and before he knows it, he’s ranting. A lot of it just stems from his frustration from that one incident, but he can’t help it. Even now, the memory of your ruthless eyes sets his nerves on fire.

 

After he sees all of his teammates staring at him, he stops and picks up his water in an attempt to cool down. But Tendou’s smirk only grows, “Eh~? You’re awfully fired up, Eita-kun. So I guess bad girls just don’t do it for you, huh? You’re more into bright, energetic girls like President Matsuki?”

 

“Well, that’s not really it. It has nothing to do with types,” he replies thoughtfully. He never really thought about it before, “It’s just that my interaction with her gave me a bad impression.”

 

Tendou hums thoughtfully, “Is that why you were going on about how brightly lit with passion her eyes were?”

 

“That’s--!”

 

“Admit it, Eita-kun. You’d definitely be the type to get caught up in her fire.” Well, he can’t really deny that since he actually did.

 

At his friend’s silence, Tendou laughs, “Come on, it’s clear as day. She has this strange charm that you can’t deny.” he nudges the setter with his elbow.

 

Pushing Tendou’s arm away, he hisses, “I’ll admit that she’s gotten under my nerves more than I’d like, but to call it ‘charm’ would be a long shot.”

 

“Well, you know the heroine of a movie is usually quite the angelic type.” Tendou muses, “But you can’t really help being attracted to the bad girl next to her.”

 

“Why do you say that?” Semi doesn’t really want to ask, but again, his damn curiosity.

 

“They’re the most interesting characters!” Tendou argues, “Think about it Eita-kun, bad girls are the types who are greedier than most people, they hate losing more than death, but they still shine even when they’re spitting something poisonous.”

 

Semi furrows his eyebrows in thought. If he thought about it that way, he wonders if all those things apply to you as well.

 

“But come on, everything happens for a reason, right?” Tendou continues, “They always have some sort of backstory and reasoning for turning out the way that they end up. Aren’t you even the least bit curious as to why [Surname] suddenly changed her entire image right in the middle of high school?”

 

Soon after that, the end of lunch bell rang, so they had to get back to class. Tendou dropped the topic and moved along to the next as if he hadn’t just given Semi a philosophical conundrum on the complexity of bad girls. Semi went through the motions of class and practice for the rest of the day, but his curiosity was definitely piqued with Tendou’s last question.

 

What did cause you to make such a drastic change? According to Tendou, you were quite a model student at the beginning of high school. What had happened to you that you decided to drop everything and just stop coming to school? You were still an enrolled student here, that was for sure. And the teachers don’t seem to hate you. You don’t interact with anyone except for Matsuki, and even then, he wouldn’t call it interaction. More like discord.

 

Maybe it had something to do with her? After all, you were pretty calm throughout the final exams that one week. It was only when he caught you with Matsuki that you seemed to be causing trouble. And even then, he recalls what you said about no one having seen how your fights started or played out. Maybe there really was more to it that he was too busy fuming about his embarrassment to see.

 

But as he’s walking home after a late practice, the object of all his uncalled inner turmoil appears in the night. You’re leaving a family restaurant and when you reach the end of the block, you turn the corner. He has to go home in a similar direction, but should he keep following you? Would it be weird to keep lagging behind you or weirder to intentionally change his route as to avoid you?

 

In the end, his curiosity, once again, gets the better of him. He turns the corner after you but when he does, you’re no longer anywhere to be seen. That’s weird. He could have sworn he was only half a block behind you. Maybe you disappeared down a shortcut? This street had a ton of those, even though they’re quite shady.

 

However, as he gets closer to one alleyway down this road, he hears yelling, and grunting, and some bodies smashing into the ground. And then, outside of some labored breathing, silence. Until the familiar drawl of your voice chimes from within the alleyway, “You gonna get up or what?”

 

Oh god, so it really was you. Did you really become a full-fledged gangster? Getting into territorial fights with other yankiis? By the sound of it though, you won your fight.

 

“G-Get away from me!” yet another familiar voice of a girl snaps at the air like a whip.

 

“Calm down, president, it’s just me. Pretty sure you’d still like seeing my face more than these hooligans.” you scoff.

 

“Shut up! Those were your friends, weren’t they?! You set this up!” Matsuki’s unmistakable voice screeches. Semi’s heart jumps at the sound. He’s never heard her speak this way.

 

“Hah?!” you raise your own voice, “You think I would send these losers after someone as petty as you? Dream on. And rather than trying to frame me for something else that I didn’t do, how ‘bout a ‘thank you [Surname]-san, for saving my sorry ass’?”

 

“Shut up! Stop it! This is all your doing! I just know it! You’d do anything to get at me because you’re jealous of me!” she shrieks.

 

“Tch. Whatever. Believe what you want.” Semi hears something drop to the floor, a clang of something heavy and made of metal. “Don’t expect me to come help you next time.”

 

Just then, he hears a pained groan from a male voice, and another scared squeal from Matsuki. “Hey…” the male voice starts, but it sounds like he’s kicked to the ground again.

 

“Shut up.” your acidic voice sends a shiver up Semi’s spine, and your voice gets closer since he can hear you grumbling even under your breath, “Everyone’s out to get on my nerves these days.”

 

When your steps come dangerously close, Semi presses himself against the edge of the building he had been hiding behind. You storm out of the alleyway and walk down the street in your original direction. After a moment, Semi steps back out onto the sidewalk again to watch your retreating figure.

 

Shortly after, Matsuki steps out from the alleyway as well, looking visibly shaken. She doesn’t even notice him. “Yo, president.” he greets her as casually as he can.

 

She jumps from the greeting but calms down when she sees his face, “Semi-kun!”

 

“What are you doing back there?” he tilts his head to look into alleyway she had appeared from. As expected, there are about three guys lying on the floor, some blood stains spattered around the concrete, and the only sign of movement is a twitching finger or leg here and there. Damn, you must have a strong swing. As he recalls, you were apparently a small prodigy on the softball team back in the day as well.

 

“Whoa! What happened here?” he puts on his best surprised and worried expression when he faces Matsuki again. “Are you alright? Are you hurt?”

 

“I-I’m fine. Thanks.” she shakes, hugging her school bag closer to her.

 

“I’ll walk you home.” he offers, and Matsuki just nods.

 

The walk to her house is silent. Despite how she was live and kicking when she was yelling at you earlier, she does seem to have been quite affected by the danger of the event that just happened. And even though Semi should feel excited to be able to walk home with Matsuki, he can’t help but keep wondering about that exchange between you and her.

 

He can assume that those guys had come in to attack Matsuki in some way or form (which he’s also quite pissed about), and you had probably rushed in to save her. Which was interesting, considering he thought you hated her. But Matsuki didn’t seem to interpret the scuffle as a heroic. In fact, she seems to think that you had set the whole thing up?

 

Is there a premise behind her suspicion? Does she have a reason to validate jumping to that kind of conclusion? Really, what the hell had happened between the two of you?

 

They reach Matsuki’s house and she pauses in her front gate to thank Semi for walking her back. He contemplates just letting her go in without a question, but he really cannot quell how curious he is to know what is going on, “Uhm, President… or uh… Matsuki-san,” he calls when she’s halfway down the walkway of her front porch, “Do you… need anything? I’m willing to listen if you’re willing to share.”

 

She smiles sadly before looking up at Semi again, “Maybe not tonight, Semi-kun. But thank you again.”

 

So with that, Semi is left in front of her house after she closes the door to contemplate this increasingly complex dynamic between you and Matsuki. He walks home with a headache.



***



Throughout summer break, Semi finds himself lingering around that same family restaurant he saw you leave that night whenever he finishes practice. Sometimes, he actually eats there, either with his teammates or on his own. It’s really his only clue as to where to find you since you don’t have a school schedule you adhere to. And since you’re not in school, where else would you be all day? Maybe you worked there part-time. It was his best chance.

 

And by luck, he catches you around the end of the first month of summer break right when you’re leaving the restaurant. But even as he sees you leave the restaurant, he doesn’t know what to say. He didn’t know why he kept trying to look for you, because it’s not like he had any reason to talk to you. Sure, he had a lot of questions, but it’s not like he was entitled to ask them. And it’s not like you were going to answer them.

 

He knows all of this, and yet he still calls out to you. The face you make when you stop and turn around is more than just confused. Your eyebrows are furrowed and there’s some sort of suspicion in your expression that makes you hesitate. Until you see him, that is. Then your face softens into something between bored and amused, “Semi Eita. To what do I owe the pleasure?” you humor him.

 

Well, shit. Where does he go from here? “Uhm… Er… if you’re not busy right now, would you… like to… have dinner with me?”






Somehow, after a lot of bantering back and forth -- which really just involved you rejecting him and him offering some other alternative -- Semi and you are sitting across from each other at a different family restaurant, each with just a black coffee in front of you.

 

“So,” you start, “What is it that you wanted to talk about so badly?”

 

He doesn’t even know, because it’s not like he can just pop the question ‘What’s your history with Matsuki Aiko and what does she have to do with how you are now?’ But is there really another way around it, when he’s just a stranger to you?

 

When he hesitates and just stares at you, you uncross your arms to lean forward on the table, causing your v-neck shirt to dip down a bit. “You need a favor or something? If you want me to kill someone, the price will be hefty.” you tease, “Or you need some grass? I usually only deal edibles, but if you really want, I can pull some strings to get you a blunt. Or maybe a fake ID? I can get you a sweet deal.”

 

Obviously, you’re toying with him and his perception of you as nothing more than a miscreant, but his face remains stoic. Also he’s trying to keep his eyes trained on your face.

 

“Can you tell me what happened at the softball game last year?” he finally asks.

 

Your own teasing smile falls into something more neutral, and you sit back and cross your arms again. Semi doesn’t know if this rack your arms creates for your chest is any better than when you were leaning forward on the table. “Why do you want to know?”

 

“I’ve been… thinking about what you said. And I know this may not be any of my business at all, but… I want to know what’s really going on between you and the president.” he admits.

 

“So why don’t you ask her?” you challenge, expression unchanging.

 

“I’d like to hear this story from your perspective.”

 

“And just what, Semi Eita, do you intend to do or gain when you hear what I have to say?”

 

“Just Semi is fine.” he says, “And I don’t have anything to gain or do, really. But I am incredibly curious, so I thought I’d ask.”

 

You seem to think about it for a while before you decide to open up, “As you may know, there is a mixed softball game at the sports festival every year, like with every other sport. It’s the softball club versus a mix of students from different classes put together to form a makeshift team.

 

“Matsuki Aiko was the SC secretary at the time, but she got voted to play with the mixed team. But despite the fact that she was practically a novice at softball at the time, she still managed to out me, a regular player and aspiring ace of the team, several times.” you uncross your arms and lean them on the table again, as if asking Semi if he was getting what you were hinting at.

 

“I got more fouls and outs in that one game than I had ever gotten throughout the entire year. At first, I thought maybe I was just off my game that day, the pressure must have gotten to me, I probably just needed to practice more.” your tone is light, “But then I started noticing how often Matsuki would talk to all of the players. Not just on her team, but mine as well. I knew she had a lot of friends, but I hadn’t realized how far her influence expanded.

 

“Somehow, the softball club lost the game, which usually wouldn’t be a big deal since it was just for fun. But what was weird was how coldly my teammates were starting to treat me afterward. They didn’t say it to my face, but they acted as if we had just lost a national tournament, and that it was my fault.

 

“But in the same afternoon that all my teammates were sending demonic auras my way, I later saw them laughing it up and having the best time with little miss Matsuki, as if she had led them to some sort of victory I hadn’t heard of.”

 

Your tone had been relatively stable throughout your story, but Semi could see the fire growing in your eyes as you recalled the events. At that point, you take a small pause to look out the window, “Well, not like I could provide you with any evidence of purposeful foul plays against me or anything, but it fucking sucked to have all of my teammates turn their backs on me. Club activities only got worse from then on, since they seemed to have lost their trust and sense of comradery in me from that one informal game. And I couldn’t play fairly or at my best in an atmosphere like that, so I eventually quit.”

 

Semi remains quiet even as you pause for a longer moment this time. He doesn’t want to interrupt a single thing that you say. From your side of the story, it does sound like you were a victim to some indirect bullying. Which totally contrasts with your rebellious image, but Semi is trying to break away from that image he has of you. He’s trying to understand you, so to do so, he should stop judging you with his previous assumptions.

 

“Well, there you have it.” you finally turn away from the window back to Semi, “Remembering all of that is kind of pissing me off now, so I’m gonna go. Thanks for the coffee.” you say after taking your first and last sip from the cup.

 

“Wait!” he stands up when you do.

 

“What is it now?” you look like you’re refraining from rolling your eyes.

 

“If… If you have time, would you like to come watch the volleyball club practice sometime?” he asks, although he doesn’t know why he does.

 

“To come watch you?” you raise your eyebrow at him, pulling your lip into that amused smirk again, “What would I do that? You’re not even a regular, are you?”

 

Ouch.

 

Well, despite the sting, Semi will admit to himself that he does want to see you again, to try and get to know more about you so he can figure out what all the drama between you and Matsuki is about. “Well, maybe not, but I still practice just the same as every member of the club. Also, how did you know that anyway?”

 

Suddenly something happens to your face. Semi doesn’t know if he’s imagining it or not, but… it looks like you’re…. blushing? “How could I be a student at Shiratorizawa and not know? The volleyball club is all everyone ever talks about. And all they show on Miyagi sports TV.” you play it off.

 

“So you know about us then.” he smiles at you for the first time, “All the more reason to come. It won’t hurt to watch us just once, so if you ever have time to, you can.”

 

“Thanks for the invitation then.” you say after a short pause, and then take your leave from the restaurant. Semi watches you walk out before back sitting down with his half empty coffee cup, trying to put more pieces together. He doesn’t know if talking to you actually helped him understand you any better.

 

***

 

On the very last week of summer vacation, you stand at the door of the gymnasium where the volleyball club is practicing. Ironically, this is also where you had first talked to Semi. You stand there holding your bottle of melon soda to your lips, wondering if you should announce your presence or just walk in.

 

“Oh? Did someone invite a guest?” you recognize the middle blocker, Tendou, who had been retrieving a ball from the side.

 

“Osu.” you hold your other hand that clutches your bottle cap up in greeting, “Semi said that I could come watch your practice. Is that okay?” The invitation was from weeks ago but he didn't say there was an expiration date so...

 

“Eh~? Eita-kun invited you?” Tendou’s grin widens smugly.

 

At the sound of his name, Semi spots you and jogs up to the door, “Hey, you actually came.” he says casually, but he’s actually quite ecstatic on the inside.

 

“Yeah.”

 

“I’ll get you a chair.” he starts toward the storage room but you interrupt him.

 

“S’fine. I’ll just go over there.” you walk off in the direction of the stage. Since this gym is actually also an auditorium, you just hoist yourself up onto the edge of the stage and sit there, crossing your legs and taking another sip of your soda.

 

The coaches give you some curious glances, but when they see that you’re really just sitting there and doing nothing else with a bored expression on, they decide to let you be. A couple of other volleyball players have also noticed your entrance, but they also only spare you a glance before returning to practice.

 

You had thought a lot about Semi’s offer to watch their practice, and how the team would react to you being there. Would they give you mean looks? Would they tell you to get out even if Semi had invited you? Would they even care? But now, you’re actually quite glad you came. The boys are obviously zeroed in on their volleyball training, so you’re free to stare at all the lean athletic bodies you like. You relish this perfect view, above eye level and right in the middle of the court so you can watch activity from both sides. This is way better than peeking in from outside.

 

*

 

Tendou won’t stop giving Semi teasing looks. He’s been doing this since your arrival, and it’s starting to get distracting. He already had enough trouble resisting glancing in your direction every other minute. You had showed up in casual athletic gear -- black racerback tank, black running shorts with white lining, your white hoodie is unzipped, and you had some high quality running shoes on. The look really meshes well with your silver hair that’s starting to grow out some black roots.

 

Apart from your style, your legs look endless in those shorts. And Semi feels kind of guilty for wishing your top was a little looser to increase probability of a wardrobe malfunction. He also noticed that you weren’t wearing any makeup today, probably because you were exercising, but you look a bit younger, even a little more innocent.

 

He doesn’t know why he’s so affected by all these small details in addition to your presence. He was the one who had invited you to come watch them, after all. He tries his best to knash out all his distractions with his serves. Also, he might be subconsciously trying to impress you, but that’s not important.

 

To his surprise, you stay for the last couple of hours, just watching them practice. The most you do from your spot on the stage is readjust your sitting position, or take a sip of your drink. By the time practice ends in the late afternoon, the sun is just beginning to set. A couple of his teammates had greeted you, and you returned their greetings politely. Tendou, the bastard, actually started making conversation with you, and you actually respond to him!

 

Semi doesn’t know what the hell you two are talking about, but he takes a break from his individual serving practice to walk up to you, “So what’d you think?” he asks.

 

You give him a thoughtful look, the most gentle one you’ve ever directed at him actually. He was seeing so many new sides to you today. “I think I can see why you’re not the official setter.”

 

“Ohoho?” Tendou smiles that annoying smug smile of his.

 

“What do you mean?” Semi is curious about what you think from observing him in action. Was that an insult?

 

“Well, you seem to want to develop both yourself and the team you’re playing with, instead of just focusing everything on one powerful player.” you point your gaze to Ushijima, who’s making a run for a powerful spike. He lands it of course. “Guess that’s just not what this team is looking for.” you muse.

 

“Observant of you, [Surname]-chan.” Tendou comments, “You must enjoy watching volleyball to be able to notice all these things.”

 

Wait. When the hell did you and Tendou get comfortable enough with each other for him to address you as ‘chan’?

 

“Yeah, I guess.” you shrug.

 

“You gonna stay til we close up, [Surname]-chan?”

 

You hum in thought, and Semi is once again surprised to see that you’re not in a rush to leave. “Sure, why not.” you stare at the court, watching closely as Ushijima lands another powerful spike that lands with a resonant bam .

 

Semi bites down his smile at your amiable answer and heads back to individual practice. About an hour later, he thinks he’ll turn in for the day. Putting away all the equipment he’s used, he comes up to you, “Do you wanna head out together?”

 

And once again, you surprise him by answering with “Okay” without any hesitation. Well, you don’t look excited or anything, but your mood seems agreeable, so he’ll roll with it.

 

“I’ll just go to the clubroom to get changed and grab my stuff. Be back soon.” When he’s out of the gym, he breaks into a jog to the clubroom and changes as quickly as he can. He can’t really explain why he feels so energetic about this. Maybe it’s because your good mood might help him find out more about you. Oh, and Matsuki, of course. Yeah. You and Matsuki.

 

He walks on his way back to the gym so that he’s not obviously out of breath when he returns, but once he steps inside, the only girl he sees in the gym is--

 

“Semi-kun, hey!” Matsuki greets him with her usual bright smile.

 

“H-Hey President,” he returns the greeting, “What are you doing here?”

 

“Came to pick up Wakatoshi-kun for our date!” she chuckles brightly.

 

“What? Date?” Semi repeats.

 

“No, not really a date. But I asked him to hang out with me and buy me dinner sometime, since I helped him with his final exams.” she clarifies with a giggle, apparently too elated to stop smiling. “It took all of summer to get him to agree, but it's finally happening.”

 

“I see.” Semi nods, ignoring the fact that he’s strangely unbothered by the fact that Matsuki and Ushijima are going to be hanging out alone together. “Uhm… Where did [Surname] go?” he scans the gymnasium once more in case he had missed you.

 

“[Surname]-san? She left shortly after I arrived. Looked like she was in a bit of a rush.”

 

“Really?” he responds slowly, almost disbelievingly. Why would you leave so quickly after you told him that you’d wait for him? You didn’t seem like the type to lie.

 

“Eita-kun.” Tendou beckons him over to the other side of the gym, “Can you help me bring this back into the storage room before you go?” he holds up one end of the pole for the net.

 

“Yeah,” Semi drops his bag and jogs over to assist his friend.

 

“You should’ve seen the look on [Surname]-chan’s face, Eita-kun.” Tendou says quietly as they enter the storage room.

 

“What?” Semi perks up.

 

“Once President Matsuki came in announcing, ‘Wakatoshi-kun~! I’m here to pick you’ [Surname]-chan looked like she lit up on fire. Wakatoshi-kun forgot about the date, of course, but after some clarification, he agreed to go. Then President walked up to say hi to [Surname]-chan. I didn’t hear their conversation, but your little spitfire got pretty riled up and made a dash for the exit before I could stop her.”

 

“Do you have any idea which way she went?” Semi asks after they’ve set the pole down on the carrier.

 

“Beats me.” he shrugs, “But you should try to catch her soon.”

 

Semi nods, thanking Tendou despite how his term of addressing you still kind of agitates him. He runs out of the gym and down the most likely path out of the school. After running to the restaurant he had found you in, he goes in and asks the waitress if you’re there. Fortunately, she knows you, so that must mean that you do work here. But unfortunately, you’re not working right now, so he’s out of luck.

 

He heads back to school to get his bag that he had forgotten in the gym, but he finds that it’s locked. He checks to see if the clubroom is still open, and Reon is just about to close up. Luckily, he had grabbed Semi’s bag for him.

 

When he leaves the clubroom once again, he curiously spots the light to one of the athletic buildings on. That’s weird. The volleyball club is usually the last one on campus by the end of the day. He figures it’s worth a try and jogs over to the building right beside the baseball field.

 

Following the panging sounds he hears coming from upstairs, he climbs up to the fourth floor. And lo and behold, there you are, hitting endless automated softballs in the batting cage. Catching his breath before he enters the practice space, he just makes his way to your cage.

 

After just watching you hit ball after ball with an incredible strength and ferocity that could rival Ushijima’s spike, he finally decides to pipe up, “You know, you should really be wearing a helmet.”

 

You visibly freeze before you hear the mechanical sound from the machine, signaling the next coming ball, and smack it with a loud clang against your metal bat. After several more balls, Semi gathers the courage to ask, “What did Matsuki say to you that got you so upset?”

 

You’re silent for several more balls, and Semi wonders if talking to you is a lost cause. But you finally say, “It’s nothing she said.” You hit another two softballs, “It’s that stupid smug face she made at me. That look said it all.”

 

Semi doesn’t know whether or not he should ask what her look said, so he just remains silent, contemplating what to say next. But before he can, you’re grumbling, more to yourself than him, “If that bitch thinks he’ll fall for her stupid fucking act… ‘date’ my ass… should pray for the sorry fuckers who actually like her ugly soul…”

 

As you’re rambling, your swings become stronger, and the bangs against the wall grow louder, Semi is almost afraid you’ll actually break something.

 

However, something bigger starts to hit him. Your muttering and several pieces of his memories start to connect together; the timing, the location, the mysterious comments, the jealousy… “Wait…” he says before he can stop himself, “Do you, by any chance, like Wakatoshi?”

 

This time when you freeze, you let the next ball fly right past you into the caged wall behind you. It’s the first ball he’s seen you miss. You don’t miss the next one, and you don’t answer his question, which is enough of an answer in itself.

 

Is that what caused all this drama between you and Matsuki? Liking the same boy? Did it really get this far that you were intentionally missing school and quitting the softball club because you two were fighting over Ushijima?

 

Does that mean Matsuki sees you as a threat? You had said that she was the one bullying you, and she had claimed in a frenzy that you were just jealous of her. Was Ushijima really the sole reason behind all of this? Girls are scary…

 

He contemplates this as well as many other things as you continue to bat your arms off. You pick up all the balls and refill the feeding system twice. But finally, an hour later, after the sun has set outside, you drop to your knees, clutching onto your now slightly dented bat to stay upright. This time when you refill the machine, you don’t reset it.

 

Semi can tell that you’re exhausted, both mentally and physically, by the way you stagger out of the cage and down the small flight of stairs back to the waiting area where he is. “Are you alright?” he asks with sincere concern, reaching out to hold you.

 

You reject his touch, tossing the bat into the cupboard with the others, “Leave me alone, Semi. Just… mind your own business.” you say with a defeated voice before jogging out of the room.

 

*

 

After you had left the gym in fear of punching Matsuki Aiko in her pretty little face, you ran a couple laps around the track. When you didn’t feel better even after that, you blew off more steam by imagining Matsuki’s head on every softball that you hit. Semi had come in at some point, saying things now and again, but you were still simmering in anger and outrage and just… outright jealousy.

 

“Do you, by any chance, like Wakatoshi?” you definitely heard Semi ask.

 

Yes. You did like Ushijima. You have ever since you heard about him in middle school. Even went to a match once. You had already been looking into applying to Shiratorizawa Academy because of its incredible academic and athletic programs, but going to the same school as a national volleyball champion sounded super awesome too.

 

Little did you know that his other admirers could be more lethal than you were prepared for. You had met Matsuki outside of the volleyball gymnasium, when you were peeking in on them to get a look at Ushijima. She had confronted you about it and you told her about how cool you thought the ace was, but instead of gushing with you, she got angry. And possessive.

 

And just like that, your chances of ever even meeting Ushijima, let alone befriending him, were destroyed. Matsuki, with her incredible influence of power, started creating a lot of misunderstandings that you couldn’t clear up, and soon you were caught up in so many rumors and misconceptions that everyone started outcasting you. Your small group of friends disappeared, your softball club scorned you, and people even started calling you a yankii.

 

Despite your efforts to clear things up, more rumors would pop up, and you’re sure that there were probably more that you didn’t even hear about. And with your short temper, it’s not like you were the best at explaining things anyway.

 

At first, you thought that you could deal with it, because at least Ushijima didn’t seem to dislike you. He didn’t even seem to know who you were, so that in itself was a blessing. Soon, your admiration settled into something of gratefulness. You were just glad that at least someone didn’t care that much about another individual’s business or reputation.

 

But it still hurt you whenever you saw Matsuki purposefully showing off her interaction with Ushijma in front of you, as if taunting you. It’s like she was always saying, “you’ll never get him, no matter what you try.” And your emotions spiraled into depression, and your depression just kept you in bed for days at a time.

 

Until eventually, you hit your breaking point. You decided that to become stronger, you had to set yourself apart from others. You didn’t want to be a victim to Matsuki Aiko’s manipulation anymore, so if she was going to get everyone to call you a delinquent, then you’d just become one to spite her.

 

You cut and dyed your hair, got some ear piercings, learned how to use makeup, and just started going out and trying to have some fun instead of moping around in your room about how Matsuki Aiko has ruined high school for you. When you returned to school, your makeover was only one shock among many. After you took your exam that day, you didn’t want to deal with everyone’s gossiping about you for the rest of the day, so you just left. Hopped over the gate and made your way to bookstore instead.

 

This system was doable. You show up for exams and avoid the rest. That way, you could keep your grades on track so you could at least graduate, and you wouldn’t have to deal with all the nonsense of high school outcasting. Your parents are always overseas for business anyway, so it’s not like they can stop you. It would also keep your interaction with Lucifer herself to a minimum.

 

Although after awhile, you got bored during the day without school to take up your time. You studied, but you needed more stimulation, or at least a way to feel productive. You tried out martial arts classes for a while, but it was kind of a waste to just keep spending on them without a means to earn anything. So you got a job at the family restaurant that you still work at now, and that sealed the routine to your system. Your transformation into Shiratorizawa’s representative yankii.

 

It didn’t seem like anything had changed in your third year either. But then Semi Eita approached you. It took a couple tries, but he had made a few sincere attempts to try to understand you. He wasn’t very good at it, and you weren’t very trusting, but he tried. And you were relatively pleased that he made the effort. After seeing the type of setter he was, you realize that he may be someone who can actually understand you. Despite first impressions, and scarce interactions, he’s become a small good thing in your life.

 

So why did you push him away and tell him to leave you alone? And to mind his own business? Is that really what you wanted? No, probably not. You put on a tough act, but that’s really all it is; an act. Did that make you any better than Matsuki in that aspect? Are you actually being who you truly are? Would Semi even want to be acquainted with someone who puts up a front to avoid the pain of rejection?

 

All your troubling thoughts jumble together and distract you from your surroundings, so it’s no wonder you bump into someone. “Oh, I’m sorry.” you murmur in your daze.

 

“Hah? Watch where you’re going, wouldja?” the guy you bumped into has a mean look in his face, but he’s too lanky to be scary.

 

“My bad.” you repeat as his friends turn around to see what the commotion is about.

 

“Hey, wait a minute… I know you.” another one points a meaty finger at you, “You’re that one chick who got in the way of us messing with that other chick. The really pretty one, Aniki.” he nudges the guy you had bumped into.

 

“Heh?” he leans down closer to your face, as if doing so will help him better recognize you, “Hey, yeah… That was mighty rude of you.” he sizes himself up.

 

“That so.” you deadpan.

 

Aniki lets out an ugly, overcompensated laugh, “Maybe we should take this opportunity to teach you some manners.”

 

You don’t hold back your groan, “Shut up, move on with your life, and leave me the hell alone before you get beaten up by a little girl again.” you start to shove your way through the boys.

 

That was a bad move, because now they have you by each arm. Normally, you could pull out one of your judo tricks to bring them both down in one go, but you already sapped the strength in your arms from the batting cage. Not to mention they caught you off balance. All in all, it was just really bad timing on your part. What else is new?

 

But in a loud flash, one of your arms is suddenly released. And then you’re wrenched from the other goon’s grip after a kick is landed in the back of his knee. You look up to see Semi Eita hovering beside you, threatening these actual young delinquents to leave you alone.

 

It doesn’t look like Semi actually knows how to fight, seeing as how he has a couple of bleeding knuckles. That one hook to the guy’s jaw shouldn’t have caused that much damage. So you make the first move when the rest of their posse start to come forward. Several strikes and a flip here and there, all five of them are down. But you don’t have enough energy to keep them down and still make a run for it afterward, so you grab Semi’s wrist and sprint down the road until they’re out of sight.

 

Without realizing it, you’ve reached your apartment complex and riding the elevator up. Wow, you’ve had a cup of coffee, one visit to volleyball practice, and now you’re bringing him into your home. What a development. Once you’re inside, quietly cleaning and bandaging his hand, he finally speaks, “Guess those guys weren’t your friends after all.”

 

You furrow your eyebrows at him, “Why would you think that they're my friends?”

 

Semi smiles softly, “I'm kidding. I know they're not your friends.” he takes a thoughtful pause to decide whether or not he should reveal what he's going to say. But he goes for it, “I saw part of what happened that day… when you saved Matsuki from them.”

 

“Did you now.” you don't look up as you finish the trimmings on Semi’s hands. “Is that why you took a sudden interest in me?”

 

“Well, kind of.” Tendou’s wisdom on bad girls was also quite enlightening. “I didn't want to think you'd actually make friends like them.” he jokes.

 

“As if.” you snuff but take a pause that’s long enough for Semi to notice its significance, “I don’t have friends.”

 

To anyone else, this might sound like a pitiful statement. But Semi recognizes it as a confession. You’ve finally shown a bit of vulnerability to him. And he suddenly recalls that glint he saw in your eyes that first day he had tried to confront you. That flash of desperation. Of wanting something.

 

He now realizes it’s not something or someone that you wanted. You didn’t really want Matsuki’s head. You didn’t want to be left alone. Maybe you didn’t even want Ushijima. You just wanted to be understood. For someone to make the effort to try to understand that you’re not always what you make yourself out to be, or what Matsuki manipulates people into thinking you are.

 

But with how far your reputation had already gone, you probably couldn’t find a feasible way to make everyone understand. You must have been lonely. He can see that now. And now that he does, he has to do something about it, so that you’re not left alone anymore.

 

“Well, you do now.” he responds boldly to your earlier confession, “I’m going to be your friend from now on.” he takes his his cleanly bandaged hand from you to pick up your cell phone on the table and immediately punch his number in to call.

 

After hearing his own cell phone ring in his bag, he ends the call and returns the phone to you. “What are you doing?” you demand when you take your phone back.

 

He ignores your question -- which has an obvious answer anyway -- and stands to take his leave, “Come back to school more often. You can join me and the volleyball club for lunch. We won’t let anyone bother you anymore.”

 

“Wait, but--” you stand as well.

 

“I’ll pick you up before school on the first day, so make sure you wake up on time.” he tells you rather than asks or suggests as he opens the door. He makes to step out but pops his head back in last minute, “Oh, I’ll have morning practice though, so be ready before seven.”

 

And with a click of the door, you’re left alone in your apartment with a dumbfounded expression, and a new contact in your phone.



***



Semi makes good on his promise to pick you up. Waking up early was a pain, but you can’t find yourself regretting it when a dozen boys are running and jumping all over the place for you to watch. Needless to say, there were some whispers passed around when your classmates saw you in your seat, turning in summer homework and listening patiently to the lectures.

 

Your self-proclaimed new friend also makes good on his promise to have you eat lunch with him and the other volleyball players in the cafeteria. He had walked up to your desk in the back of the classroom as casually as if he did it everyday, “Are you going to get food from the cafeteria or did you bring your own?”

 

“Uh…” you had hesitated, trying to ignore the curious stares and whispers directed at you and Semi. Eventually you answer, “I have my own.” and pull it out of your bag.

 

“Cool. Let’s go.” he turns around and walks out, and you just follow, not knowing what expression to make as not to give off the wrong idea.

 

Semi’s introduction of you to the team is quick and casual, like the rest of his behavior towards you, “Guys, this is [Surname] from my class. She visited one of our practices once during summer break, so you may recognize her. You’re okay with her joining us for lunch, right?”

 

“[Surname]-chan~ It’s always a pleasure.” Tendou touches the tips of his fingers together as he watches the two of you with a look that anticipates entertainment. “Please have a seat. Don’t be shy.”

 

“Thanks.” you reply, somewhat unsure as you pull out the seat beside Semi and across Tendou.

 

Throughout most of the lunch hour, you just slowly pick out your food piece by piece to put in your mouth as you listen to the conversations happening between the boys at the table. As expected, Tendou seems to be the most talkative one out of the group, while Semi and Reon offer consistent input. Ushijima doesn’t seem to talk much unless it involves volleyball.

 

Occasionally, they ask you for your opinion or some other question, and you just answer politely without much elaboration. You don’t know if you feel comfortable in this setting yet, or if you want to continue doing this just because Semi is supposedly your friend now.

 

But you make it through the school day just fine. Semi invites you to watch their practice after school, but you tell him you have to get to work. And after you get home at the end of the day, you feel pretty okay. A little different from your usual routine in which you stroll through mundane cycles of everyday life on your own, but it’s not that bad.

 

So you do the same the next day. You go to school with Semi and watch their morning practice, attend classes, eat lunch with the volleyball team, head to work after school, and go home to study and do whatever else. And you do it again the next day. And the next. The other students still gossip about you, but as you continue to show up, it tires down into curious glances. And the teachers actually seem kind of excited to see you everyday when they hear you respond during attendance.

 

Eventually, you somehow manage to settle yourself into the group. Often, they’d get excited over what you would bring for lunch, so you’d share with them sometimes. And occasionally, Tendou would tell a funny story or joke that would actually get a laugh out of you. And by the end of the week, you know most of the members of the volleyball club and they know you since you make polite conversation before or after their morning practices.

 

It’s on a Friday that Matsuki Aiko approaches your table during lunch. You didn’t miss the confused angry glances she would send in your direction for the past few days, and you knew she wouldn’t take this sitting down. But she never really got a chance to make her usual scene or backhanded comment at you because you’re almost always with Semi or another member of the volleyball team.

 

But she must have figured that if she couldn’t catch you alone, then she’d have to settle for seeing how you react to her when she approaches all of you, “Hey, Wakatoshi-kun, everyone.” she smiles at the table. After some of them return her greeting, she directs her student council president smile at you, “Hey [Surname]-san, I’m glad to see you’re attending school regularly again. And that you’ve made some new friends.”

 

“Yeah.” you deadpan, not bothering to look at her.

 

“Well, I’m glad the volleyball club has been a good influence on you. Thanks for looking out for her, guys. Must be hard for you at times.” she chuckles as if she’s joking, when she is clearly just making a stab at you.

 

“Not at all,” Tendou waves a hand as if to shoo away such a thought, “[Surname]-chan is full of charm, right Wakatoshi-kun?” the middle blocker directs a bright, sly smile at Ushijima.

 

Both Matsuki’s and your eyes snap to attention as Ushijima blinks at being called to attention, but he replies with pure candor, “Well, yes actually her character bento was quite well made.”

 

“Yeah, delicious too.” Reon adds with a good-natured smile. “I’m glad we got to try it.”

 

If you weren’t so caught off guard by their kind comments, you would have been able to better relish the look on Matsuki’s face. You had never seen her smile drop so quickly, it’s hilarious. But you’re in the middle of guarding your own shock, so you disguise it with an appreciative smile at Tendou. He’s such an instigator. You like him.

 

“Is-Is that so?” Matsuki tries to recompose herself with a nervous laugh, “I never would’ve thought.” She’s about to ask another question when Semi reaches over with his chopstick to point at your unagi maki rolls.

 

“Can I have one?” he asks, practically eliminating the significance of Matsuki’s presence.

 

“Huh? Oh, uh huh.” you nudge the box slightly closer to him as an open invitation. He picks up a piece between his chopsticks, pops it into his mouth, and chews with an appreciative hum at the taste. The innocent delight in his face interests you, “Do you like them?”

 

“Yeah,” he replies, “I prefer tuna, but this is pretty good.”

 

“Thanks.” you mumble, still not used to the compliments.

 

“President?” Tendou brings Matsuki out of her vindictive stupor at watching you interact so easily with some of the most popular students at this school. “Something wrong?”

 

“N-No! I’m just… really pleased to see this new development.” her smile is a little too wide to be believable, “Anyway! I’m gonna head back to the student council. It was good to see you all!”

 

“Later.” some of them reply as she leaves the cafeteria.

 

You stare at Tendou until he notices and he stares back at you as if asking ‘what?’

 

“You did that on purpose just now, didn’t you?” you raise challenging eyebrows at him.

 

“Maybe.” he shrugs, “Wasn’t it funny, though?”

 

With an unchanging expression, you raise your fist right up to face him. Tendou stares at it for a moment before he smiles that mischievous smile of his again, bumping your fist with his. Yes, you could probably get used to this.





Semi kind of invites himself over to your apartment to study over the weekend. You don’t particularly mind, since you’ve finally acknowledged and accepted him as your friend, but sometimes you wonder how the guy can act as if you’ve been friends for years rather than just over a week.

 

He comes in the evening, after he’s finished practice and you’ve gotten off work. The two of you review math problems and English translations over omurice. And after he leaves your apartment around 10pm, you realize how easy it’s become to have him around. Semi Eita has become an overarching presence in your life.





You fall into the routine of attending school everyday again, eating and sharing lunch with your friends, working after school, and having Semi and sometimes even Tendou over during the weekends. The best part of it is that Matsuki can’t really touch you anymore.

 

She’s definitely tried a couple of times to create another misunderstanding or rumor at the rare opportunities she finds, but her attempts are pretty futile when you have half of the volleyball club backing you. They’ve managed to spread word about how you’re actually not a ruthless gangster through their interactions with other students, and the shameless gossiping about you has effectively toned down.

 

Her only good chances come when P.E. is in session. Since you’ve been coming to school everyday, you’ve been participating in every class. And since you and Matsuki both happen to be girls, you have to change in the girls’ locker room, and participate in the girls’ half of gym class.

 

Since P.E. doesn’t happen everyday, and Matsuki is often off socializing due to her popularity as SC president, you managed to change swiftly into your gym clothes and leave the locker room before she had any chances to approach you. And by the time you’re outside on the track field, which is the unit your class is starting with this term, Semi and Reon are already out there, so you stick with them until the teachers show up to start class.

 

You’ve managed to scrape by with just ignoring Matsuki’s insults that she makes under her breath as you pass by, or retorting with a witty comment before you just leave her behind in the locker room. You’ve gotten really mature about this, and you never pay Matsuki the time of day, so why is it that she keeps coming after you? It’s not like you’ve gotten that much closer to Ushijima or anything, considering how stoic he is. If anything, you’d say that she still talks to him more casually than you do.

 

But you should’ve known your luck wouldn’t last. You’re doing hurdles today, and Matsuki is placed in the lane right beside yours. She had snarled some sort of sneering challenge at you, and you told her to bring it on. You figured that as long as you stayed ahead of her, she wouldn’t be able to cause any ‘accidents.’

 

How naive of you to have hoped. The sneak managed to keep a good pace with you in the second half of the 400 meter dash, and tripped from right behind you right before you were about to jump another set of hurdles. Of course, she bumps into you and offsets your entire jump and center of balance, and you go crashing into the first hurdle in a somersault. Matsuki would have been caught up in the crash too, had your hand not already been swinging behind so you could push her back and let her fall backwards instead. But your valiant sacrifice causes you to roll forward even farther, enough to knock over the second hurdle.

 

There are screams and yells, and bodies approaching you as you try to still the images flopping around in your vision. Once you come to, and sit up, you see that both of your arms and knees are scratched up, although only one of your forearms is bleeding. It was the one you had used to catch and redistribute your weight to prevent more damage since forcing Matsuki back also pushed you forward harder, so that makes sense. But it still fucking hurts like a bitch.

 

You hear concerned shouts in the background somewhere behind you asking if fucking Matsuki is okay. “Forget about me! [Surname]-san!! Are you alright?!” she limps over to you, putting a hand on your shoulder.

 

“Don’t touch me! Don’t even come near me!” you burst, smacking her hand away. You hate it when people touch you, especially when the fake concern is shining so brightly in their eyes. You could care less about the believable look of hurt on her face, or that all the other girls gathered around you are watching and probably misunderstanding the basis of your rage towards Matsuki when she’s checking to see if you’re alright.

 

You need to get the fuck out of here. So standing up and seeing that your legs are still doing okay, you storm away from the hurdles and past the P.E. teacher who keeps asking you concerned questions. You don’t want to see any fucking one’s clueless faces right now, because seeing them not understand why you’re mad will just make you angrier.

 

*

 

Semi has taken a partial liking to P.E. class, in no small part because you just look really good in your P.E. bloomers. Honestly, he used to appreciate seeing Matsuki in her tiny P.E. shorts as well, but you just stand out so much more within the girls, both due to your hair and your athletic prowess. Sometimes he finds it hard to concentrate on his own P.E. activities because he’s trying to make subtle glances in your direction.

 

You stretching, you running, you helping put equipment away, he just watches the curves and motions of your body without realizing it. His classmates notice too, since he’s been keeping this up for almost the past month. “Hey, hey, Semi-kun. Who do you keep staring at with such interest?” one of his friends asks.

 

“You mean you can’t tell?” another friend laughs, nudging Semi in the side, “It’s that yankii chick who’s started coming back to school, isn’t it? You’ve been spending quite a lot of time together since the new term started, eh? Didn’t know you were into the bad girls, Semi.” he teases.

 

Semi just smiles as the teacher calls his name to start running next, “She’s not a yankii.”

 

He’s glad to see you attending school with him and becoming a familiar face around his group of friends during lunch and morning practice. He’s come to find that contrary to popular belief, your personality isn’t as gruff as people would expect. Actually, you can be quite bubbly at times, when getting into a topic of your interest or someone (usually Tendou) makes a weird joke that only you seem to get. And even a little tsundere when they compliment you on something.

 

As Tendou had foreshadowed, you were competitive and argumentative, and still had a firey temper. But you were actually quite mature, and often made compelling logical arguments when you decided to. Semi had learned that your parents were international business associates, so they were often away from home. Which is also why they rented out an apartment for you to live in rather than have you stay in your larger, emptier house by the edge of the city. So you had probably learned to live like an adult on your own for a while now.

 

The only time you ever really seem to lose your cool is when Matsuki is around. If she approached their table during lunch, you would just ignore her or give curt answers. But sometimes he would see you with a stiff expression whenever you came back from P.E. So he figured that you probably had a run-in with Matsuki in the locker room or something.

 

It’s amazing how he’s completely switched around his way of thinking now that he’s friends with you. Whenever there’s an interaction between you and the president, he just automatically assumes that Matsuki is the instigator now. Since he’s noticed that the only times you ever talk is when Matsuki talks to you first. And although he can only base his opinions on that one incident in which you saved her, Semi is still heavily weighed on your side.

 

And he thinks he probably made the right decision, because he saw the crash on the track. It did really look like an accident, even though you took most of the damage. But he cannot believe what he sees when over half of the class of girls crowd around Matsuki to check if she’s alright instead of tending to you. You were the one who had smashed into two hurdles and started bleeding!

 

You had stormed off into the school building alone while Matsuki’s friends were carrying her weight as she limped back towards the teacher and the class. Semi quickly excused himself from his own P.E. class before the teacher could say anything, and started jogging across the field towards the building after you.

 

He’s just passed the girls’ half of the class when he hears his name being called, “Semi-kun! Wait up!” and he turns to see Matsuki limping towards him with another girl, “You’re going to the infirmary, right? I’ll go too. I still haven’t properly apologized to [Surname]-san.”

 

He looks at her sad expression and recalls the time he saw her leave the alleyway. You had saved her then, too. He saw how you pushed her back away from the hurdles to keep her away from the crash. Despite your hard feelings towards Matsuki, you still helped her, and here she was allowing herself to be coddled and pitied while you were off injured somewhere alone.

 

Semi pivots his body to directly face the student council president, “I think you’ve done enough, Matsuki-san. Please just leave [Surname] to me from now on. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t ever bother her again.”

 

He jogs off again while she’s still stuttering in confusion, and manages to find you ten minutes later. You’re in the infirmary on the fourth floor, where there’s actually a (male...) nurse on duty. Your arm is already bandaged, and there’s a small bandage on your forehead above your temple. The (male!!) nurse is tending to the cuts on your legs that are stretched out on the bed, but you notice him immediately, “Semi?”

 

Ignoring your question of why you’re here, he rushes up to you in long strides and takes the hand of your damaged arm, “Are you okay? Did you hit your head or anything?” he reaches up to touch your face but hesitates before retracting his arm.

 

“Hurts like a bitch, but it could’ve been worse,” you do sound a bit irritated regardless. Semi tries not to feel conscious about how you don’t hold back with your choice of language even with a school staff member in front of you.

 

He chuckles at how well you’re taking this, and then notes your ruffled appearance, “You look a little more like a yankii now. Like you got into a territorial fight or something.”

 

You throw a punch at him with your free hand, but he catches it with another laugh. Then you pull both your hands away from his, “Shut up, go back to class.”

 

“After I climbed through four floors of infirmaries to find you? Nice try.” he takes your hand in his again, as if to say that if you want him to leave, you’d have to wrench him away from you.

 

“Four floors should be nothing for you; you’re part of the top athletic team in the prefecture.” you retort.

 

“Oh shut up and just let me wait for you.” he rolls his eyes.

 

“Tch. Whatever. Do what you want.” you scoff, although you don’t bother to remove your hand from his this time.

 

That’s when the (M-A-L-E) nurse chimes in with a little chuckle. “What?” you ask without pause.

 

“Nothing.” he holds back his laughter, but keeps the large, affectionate smile on his face, “You should be good now. I think I’ve managed to clean and disinfect most of your injuries. The bandage on your arm you can take off within the next couple of hours, but I’d suggest you keep it on until you get home and shower, to prevent any possible further irritation.”

 

“Okay, thank you sensei.” you slide your legs back over the bed and land on your feet, “Thanks for the hard work.”

 

“No problem.” he smiles at the two of you as Semi leads you out of the infirmary.

 

Semi and you walk down the corridor until you near the staircase, where he believes that neither the (male) nurse nor the other classes on this floor will hear or see you. He gently pushes you back against the wall that hides the both of you from the corridor, and allows you to see if anyone will walk up the stairs. “What the--? Semi, what are you--”

 

“If Matsuki ever tries to hurt you again, let me know.” he says under his breath, since his face is incredibly close to yours. His hands are holding you gently against the wall by the shoulders. If you wanted to push him away, you could do so easily. But he likes the fact that you don’t. “She should know not to try now, but I’ll still do whatever I can to help you.”

 

“Help me? What, are you gonna be my knight, Semi?” you scoffs, “I can take care of myself. Matsuki Aiko doesn’t scare me. And what do you mean ‘she should know not to try now’?”

 

“I know you can. Trust me, I know.” he reassures you, “But I can’t go on standing by like this after being blind to everything she’s done to you all this time. I’m your friend now, so I’m going to be there for you. Please, let me.”

 

You chew the inside of your lip as if in deep thought before finally huffing a sigh, “Fine. Do what you want. But you still didn’t answer my question. What did you mean by that? That she should know not to try? Did you say something to her?”

 

Semi darts his eyes to the side as if guilty for something, “I may have given her an offhand warning to leave you alone, and that I would protect you.” When he sees your eyes widen in what looks like horror, he quickly tries to save himself, “Not in anything resembling those words of course!” he releases your shoulders to hold his hands up in the air, “But… I still hope she got the hint.”

 

You look at him thoughtfully for a long time. He’s starting to feel the weighty pressure of your gaze making him sweat. But finally, you speak again, “Well, I doubt that she’s going to stop trying that easily, especially when it looks like I’m rubbing it in her face that I’m almost always with guys now. But…” you slowly lift your hand up to rest on the junction between his shoulder and neck, and you even slide your fingers along the back of his shoulder, “Thank you, Semi. You’re a good friend. And I appreciate everything that you’re doing for me.”

 

Semi feels something change in the air between you. His chest is thudding hard in his chest, and he can hear his pulse more loudly in his ears. But the look he sees in your eyes is unlike anything he’s seen in them before, so he can’t help how his body reacts. They’re warm and… open… and… loving…?

 

He sees something resembling love hidden deep within your soft expression, and it compulses him to lean forward to rest a hand beside your head against the wall, not unlike the way you did to him the first time you had a falling-out. He rests his other hand gently on your hip as he leans in closer to your face.

 

The look your eyes changes into something of surprise, but edging towards what he hopes is anticipation. You’re not pushing him away, and you’re nose to nose now, so there’s no way he’s letting this opportunity go, “You’re welcome.” he murmurs before closing his eyes and touching his lips to yours.

 

The two of you are still like that for a moment. Semi is waiting for you to push him away, or slap him, or yell at him, or everything aforementioned, but you don’t. So he tilts his head a couple degrees and puts just a little more pressure into his kiss.

 

“Oh, oops.” a voice jolts you two out of your fervor and you finally push Semi away. He freezes when he sees the nurse looking… kind of excited at catching the two of you. “Oh my, my, what a thriving development we have here.” he hides his face with the folders he has in his hands and giggles a bit as he makes his way down the stairs.

 

Semi and you stare after his descending figure before he turns back to you, “Does he remind you of someone?”

 

“What?”

 

“Never mind.”

 

*

 

You’re pretty anxious as you wait for Semi to arrive to your apartment for your usual weekend study session. After that debacle in the school hallway (and the weird nurse), you tried to act normally for the rest of the school day, as did Semi. It was like that for the rest of the week, although Semi would casually touch you a little more than usual. And admittedly, you liked it.

 

Usually, you don’t like when people touch you. Maybe it’s because you’re not as used to skinship since your parents aren’t around often, and even when they are, they don’t touch you that much. But as high school went on, the only people who would touch you were concerned teachers, or former friends, or fucking Matsuki Aiko.

 

A lot of their sympathetic touches didn’t resonate with you, because you could tell that they didn’t really care for you. They just wanted to convince you to act a different way. And maybe they thought that showing insincere concern would get you to open up more to them. But you could tell that whenever they would attempt to listen to your side of the story in some new misunderstanding, they either didn’t care or didn’t believe you. Although they would try to comfort you, you never felt comforted, just rushed.

 

But Semi’s hands on you were different. They were a sincere kind of gentle. His occasional hesitations showed you that he was thinking about whether or not you’d approve of his touches. And when you allowed him to hold your hand, or caress your hip, you enjoyed the weight and warmth of his hand on you. The way he looks directly and deeply into your eyes whenever he’s talking or listening to you makes his touches feel hotter, in a good way.

 

You have never felt this way before towards anyone. Ushijima was a small crush, but you never had the chance to get to know him enough to let him make you feel this way. And ever since Semi Eita had slowly slithered into your life, you’ve all but forgotten your feelings for the volleyball captain. He’s already come to your rescue in a number of ways, and you can’t deny the pull you feel towards him. Actually, after that kiss, you don’t know if you can think of anything else.

 

What’s going to happen today? At school, Semi has only brushed against you or put a hand on your shoulder since that day. But behind closed doors, uninterrupted, what will possibly conspire between the two of you? The possibilities lead you to drift off into a number of fantasies that may or may not involve clothing, and you’re only broken out of your thoughts when you hear the doorbell.

 

After opening the door to the apartment complex, you take a last look at yourself in the mirror, wondering if the crop top is too much. But once you hear the knock on the door, you know that it’s pointless to change now, so you take a deep inhale and finish breathing it out when you open the door for Semi.

 

“Hey,” he greets you normally.

 

“Hey,” you let him in and the two of you migrate naturally to the coffee table, where most of your books are already set up.

 

“Wow, you look really good.” Damn him. Catching you right when you let your guard down.

 

“Yeah? I only wear this in the house.” you reply, trying to sound as casual as he does.

 

“I see.” he says simply before setting down his bag and taking his usual seat beside you on the floor at the coffee table.

 

Your silent anxiousness continues for the next hour as you two just study like you usually do, talking occasionally when discussing new or confusing material. By the end of the second hour though, the combination of all of the studying and your shot nerves exhausts you, so you drop your pencil with a heavy sigh and lean back to lie on the hardwood floor. Semi turns to look down at you, he smiles, “Need a break?”

 

You mumble some sort of groaning sound as an affirmative reply, and he chuckles as he gets up to grab some drinks from the kitchen area. After he returns with a bottle of juice and two glasses, he sets them on the table before tucking his legs underneath the coffee table next to yours. Then he rolls over so that he’s lying completely on top of you, forearms propping up his weight on either side of your shoulders.

 

“What are you doing?” you ask boredly, hiding the fact that his body heat and weight on top of you is sending your heart into a frenzy.

 

“Waiting to kiss you again.” his reply sends the blood straight to your ears. “I’ve been waiting all week.” he smiles.

 

“Guess I should put you out of your misery, then.”

 

“You’re too kind.” he smiles before leaning down to kiss you gently. He lingers there for a moment before retracting his lips just to kiss you again. You just lay there as he slowly increases the pressure, and once you get the hang of it, you push back a little. Then a little more. Then he starts gently biting and sucking at your bottom lip, and then dipping his tongue past your lips to slide across your front teeth.

 

The farther he goes, the more you want to feel him. So you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him closer to you, forcing his full weight to rest on top of your body. He groans when your fingers card through his hair, and you groan when he runs a hand down your bare side to squeeze at your hip.

 

“Semi…” you breathe when he finally comes up for air. You’re contemplating asking him a question but soon his lips are on yours again and your question is forgotten.

 

You continue to make out like this on the floor for a while. Semi’s hand in your hair and thumb rubbing little circles into the bare skin of your side kind of convinces you that you needn’t move for a while. At some point, you want a little change of perspective, so you push him to the side so you can climb over his body this time. But other than you being on top, the way you continue to just make out doesn’t change.

 

You don’t really want this to end, but as you begin to regain control of your thoughts even as Semi’s mouth is on you, you realize you should probably at least ask your earlier question. Especially now that his bare hands are sliding up your bare back and resting underneath the material of your top. He’s not going any farther, since your kisses are still vaguely innocent. Tongue action is occasional, and your mouths are passionate, but you’re both still relatively new to this. And before you do go any farther, you figure you should just clear the air first.

 

Lifting your head from his and holding your weight up on your forearms like Semi had earlier, you allow a little space between your chests just to tease him with a nice view into your shirt. He breathes a constrained sigh as he rubs his hands in small circles on your back. “Hey,” you call him back to attention, and he brings his eyes up to meet yours immediately, “Are we dating or something now?”

 

He only humors you with an amused smile as he brings one hand up to caress your cheek, “Is that what you want us to be doing?”

 

Now that sends you into a blushing frenzy. You hadn’t expected him to have you choose. “W-What? What are you saying? I asked you first!” you attempt to roll off of him, but his other arm still on your back comes to circle around your waist and trap you on top of his body.

 

“Well, I asked you second.” he retorts cheekily. “And I will be whatever you want me to be to you.”

 

“The heck does that mean?” you mutter, pouting a little as you look away, embarrassed at his words and at the position you’re talking in.

 

“It means,” he pulls your chin back to face him, “that I like you. And I want to be by your side, no matter the circumstance, or the label I have. So whatever you want, I’ll be your friend, your boyfriend, your dog,” he chuckles at the last suggestion, “Whatever you’re ready for, I’m here for you.”

 

You’re like a tomato now, you’re sure of it. There’s no way you can’t feel embarrassment from these cheesy words he’s saying to you. Is this even real life? Is he being sincere? This could all be Matsuki’s elaborate attempt to mess with you.

 

But you know, with the way Semi is looking into your eyes, and caressing you sweetly, that he’s for real. And he’s going to be here for you until you tell him otherwise. So after sharing a long, meaningful gaze with him, you think that your blush has died down enough for you to finally reply, “If you break my heart, I’ll break every single one of your bones.” you warn.

 

“I’m sure you will,” he smiles again as he brings your face down to kiss you again.



***



Your behavior doesn’t change while in school, other than Semi occasionally resting a hand on your thigh during lunch. You still go to his morning practices with him, and go to work on your own after school. Actually, other than making out and some heavy petting during your weekend study sessions when it’s just the two of you, not much changes about your routine.

 

You do attend all of the Spring High games that Shiratorizawa plays, although you’re not always cheering as loudly as everyone else. You’re relatively close with almost every member of the club now, so you can see how all of their intensive training regimens have paid off in making them a powerhouse.

 

Semi’s serves are obviously your favorite plays. You never fail to notice the intense concentration in his eyes, or how his tongue flicks out just before he tosses the ball into the air, or how energetic he is when he’s actually on the court. It gets you going, really. Every point Shiratorizawa scores makes your heart swell with pride and happiness that you were able to become friends with all of these talented players. And even snagged one for yourself.

 

Even after Shiratorizawa surprisingly loses the finals, the team still remains lively as ever. Almost all of the third years still play volleyball in some setting or other even after the tournament, so it’s not like anything has changed other than that you and Semi don’t attend morning practice anymore.

 

The only exciting thing that happens about two weeks after the Spring High finals is that Tendou shows up a little later than usual to the lunch table, announcing, “Happy birthday, Eita-kun! I forgot quite last minute, but here you go!” he hands over a small box that likely holds a slice of cake inside.

 

“You didn’t have to go through the trouble,” Semi chuckles, but accepts the box anyway, “Thank you for remembering.”

 

“It’s you birthday?” you turn your head to stare at him before touching your own lunch box, “You didn’t tell me anything about this.”

 

“Well, technically it’s on Sunday. But it’s not that big of a deal,” he shrugs, although you can see the slightest tinge of pink at the tips of his ears, “I was going to ask you later to hang out with us altogether.”

 

“Oh. Okay.” you agree easily enough.

 

“Whoo! Now that [Surname]-chan has joined the party, it’ll be that much more fun.” Tendou spreads his arms out excitedly. You caught on quite early that Tendou makes some big movements when he’s excited, which is most of the time. So you tend to keep your space from him when you’re near.

 

You chuckle at the redhead’s enthusiasm, and switch your lunch with Semi’s, “Here, since Tendou got you something today, I’ll give you this too.”

 

“Eh? What are you talking about? You don’t have to, my birthday’s not even until the weekend.” he tries to take his own tray back, but you pull it farther away from him.

 

“Just take it. I promise you won’t regret it.”

 

“I’d go for it if I were you, Eita-kun.” Tendou leans back in his chair, “You know how nice [Surname]-chan’s bento can be.”

 

Semi seems to think it over for another moment before giving in, “Thanks for the food.” And when he separates the double layered box, he finds some Mickey and Minnie Mouse themed onigiri alongside some tiny sausages and assorted vegetables. And the bottom box houses a bunch of colorful assorted fruits.

 

“Whoa~” most of the table coos.

 

“You’ve been making character bento a lot more these days, [Surname].” Reon notices.

 

“Yeah, I have more time in the morning these days, since there’s no morning practice.” you shrug.

 

“Wow~ Lucky you, SemiSemi.” Tendou teases.

 

Semi, who had been staring at the cute character onigiri, turns back to you and rests his hand on your thigh, “It’s beautiful. Thank you.” and instinctively, he leans in to give you a kiss on the cheek.

 

It’s only after he pulls away that he realizes his own action, as well as your widened eyes. Then he hurriedly turns around to see that the entire table is looking at him with the exact same dumbfounded expression. “Uh-- Uh--- I-- didn’t mean--! Sorry! Habit!” he waves his hands around frantically, unable to find the right words to explain himself, “I mean--! Not habit, I mean-- it was--”

 

“Eh~? Habit, huh Eita-kun?” Tendou looks extremely amused now, leaning his chin onto his joined fingers as he props his weight on his elbows. His eyes dart between you and Semi with smug interest.

 

“No, that’s not-- I mean uh--!” he’s twitching his head to look between Tendou and you and everyone else at the table, “I uh…”

 

You stand up so quickly that your chair almost falls back, “I-I’m going to the bathroom.” And in another second, you’re rushing out of the cafeteria, leaving Semi to fend for himself.

 

Just after you leave the cafeteria and lean against the first wall you see, you take a deep breath and put a hand on your throbbing heart. But just as you’re beginning to calm down, another voice pops up in the hallway, “Eh~ To think this is how you suddenly got close to the volleyball club.”

 

Your head snaps up and you turn your head to find Matsuki Aiko leaning against the wall beside the cafeteria door with her arms crossed. “You.” you’re still a little short of breath, so that greeting doesn’t come out as menacingly as you had planned it to.

 

“Tell me, how did you do it?” she pushes off of the wall to saunter up to you, arm still crossed in an attempt to look intimidating. “How’d you get someone in Wakatoshi-kun’s circle to like your atrociously lousy ass?”

 

She must have seen what happened inside. And now she’s trying to use it as a way to taunt you. Of course she is.

 

“Easy,” you rise to your own height to challenge her, “I just had to take your blindfolds off of him.”

 

She scoffs in retaliation, “If anyone’s blind, it’s got to be you, for thinking that you can fool anyone into believing that you actually like that little dog of yours.”

 

“What was that?” your voice is no louder than a growl.

 

“Aw, you upset that I called him your dog? What else would he be? He waits on you like a butler, and you’re obviously just using him to get closer to the rest of the team.” she accuses.

 

“You don’t know a thing about him, and you don’t know a thing about me.” you step closer so that you’re almost nose to nose with the girl, “So don’t go judging any of us just because you’re mad that I’m their friend.”

 

“Their friend? Ha!” she cackles, pushing you back with one hand on your shoulder, “If you think they’re going to want to be your friend after they smell your desperation for Wakatoshi-kun, then you need to wake up soon.”

 

“Is that a threat? Are you going to make everyone think that I like Waka-kun?” you pout with a whiny, pitying voice. You don’t actually call Ushijima anything resembling Waka-kun, but you just wanted to splash a little more salt in Matsuki’s direction, “Are you going to keep trying to sabotage my life because you can’t get anyone to like you otherwise?”

 

“What was that?!” she pushes you against the wall again, but you continue because you haven’t had this much fun taunting Matsuki in a while. It’s not like you ever had the upper hand or anything.

 

“Oh come on, give it your best shot. You’ve already turned me into a yankii, driven me out of school, done everything you possibly can to fake your way into good lighting by giving me all the dark angles. And look at you, you’re still not satisfied.” you make all of your arguments logical and true, because you want this to be the last time Matsuki tries to come at you with such ridiculous accusations. You love Semi, and you won’t let her tell anyone otherwise.

 

You use only the tips of your fingers to push Matsuki back, before moving your face forward again, “Why don’t you grow up and improve yourself first? Maybe then, Ushijima-san will like you.”

 

The fire in her eyes smolders, “You little--”

 

“Matsuki-san, that’s enough.” Semi pushes through cafeteria doors and pulls you to his side, “I asked you not to bother [Surname] again. But this time, I’m not asking.”

 

Damn, your boyfriend can be intimidating when he wants to be.

 

“S-Semi-kun! It’s not like that!” Matsuki starts.

 

“Let me make it clear, Matsuki-san, that [Surname] is a good friend of everyone in the volleyball club,” he speaks in a warning tone that commands attention. Sexy. “And if you were to hurt her in any way, I can assure you that no one will just let you off easy.”

 

She looks like she’s about to stutter a response, but she must be having trouble, since this is the first time she’s ever had the situation turned against her. Usually, she managed to redirect anything into a misunderstanding that blamed you, but obviously Semi had heard at least some of your argument earlier. And nothing she said could possibly work in her favor this time around.

 

“Let’s go.” Semi guides you back into the cafeteria with his arm around your waist, and you’re dazed as he leads you back to your seat.

 

You barely hear the teasing remarks and questions from your friends as you turn to stare up at Semi. He had come to your rescue, yet again. He’s completely on your side, and he backed you in standing up to Matsuki. And you can guess that she will not likely be bothering you again, now that you have an actual witness on your side.

 

Semi stares right back at you, some concern in his eyes, “Are you okay?”

 

And finally, you smile up at him, squeezing his hand that’s taken yours, “Thank you.” you say softly.

 

“Okay, okay, we get it! Sorry for making fun of you guys. Now stop making googly eyes at each other and eat before lunch is over.” Tendou complains.



***



“I am going to give you the best birthday present ever.” you whisper into his ear right before the elevator doors open and you lead him into your apartment.

 

“Can’t wait.” Really, he can’t. He’s shaking in excitement as you lead him into your bedroom. He’s been in here a couple of times before, either to retrieve miscellaneous items or kiss you on your bed for a couple hours.

 

He’s always gotten a little excited whenever he came to your home. The first time you had dragged him here without a word after he had saved you from those teenage thugs, his heart had been pounding incredibly hard. To him, it was one of the first signs that he was starting to fall for you, because it was nothing like how he felt when he had walked Matsuki home that one night she had almost been attacked. The slight giddiness he felt in walking the president to her front gate was absolutely incomparable to the thundering in his heart as he entered your apartment building.

 

And tonight, he was going to stay the night. He had hesitated when you first proposed the idea to him after school on Friday, but how could he ever turn you down? Your appearance in his life had left traumatizing effects on him, all of which he’s now incredibly grateful for. Learning more about you helped him realize how he should really take on more perspectives than what meets the eye. It also helped him find out what a nice body you have, and he can’t wait to see and feel and taste every inch of it.

 

He had been incredibly patient all day, throughout the meals, karaoke, gossiping in the dorm, and makeshift cooking lesson you had given the boys on whim. Whether intentionally or not, you had tantalized him with that sleeveless blouse that had a sheer cut off starting above your chest. He could clearly see your collarbones and shoulders teasing him. He didn’t dare to stare too long at your legs in those jeans, for the safety of his own pride and health.

 

But now, as he waits patiently on your bed for you to reappear from the bathroom, he can’t wait to stare at you for as long as he likes. And get as hard as he likes without inhibitions. When you call his name to announce your entrance, he sits up excitedly. And the white slip with black lace trimmings you’re wearing does everything but disappoint. There’s a black bow in the middle between your cupped breasts where the front of the slip splits open to tease just a sliver of your stomach, as well as show off the matching lace panties underneath.

 

“Happy birthday?” you hold your arms out beside you awkwardly. Despite your seductive confidence earlier, you’re still your shy, nervous self. And Semi laughs because he loves it.

 

“Come here,” he opens his arms out for you, and you paddle over immediately to fill the vacant space between his legs. Wrapping his arms around you to kiss you deeply, he hums in approval as he feels your nipples harden underneath the thin lingerie. He pulls away just a smidge so that he can look into your eyes, but keep your noses and foreheads touching, “Thank you.” he whispers, “And… I love you.” he confesses.

 

You close your eyes as you break into a helpless smile, “I love you too,” you whisper against his lips before kissing him again.

 

Semi locks his arms around your body and drags you up to lie on top of him on the bed. He rests his hands innocently on your hips as he strokes his way into your mouth with his tongue. You open and welcome him with your own tongue, wrestling with him just a little before giving him free reign. He takes his sweet time to taste the lingering flavors of the dessert you had all shared before leaving the party. When he pulls his tongue out, you suck at it to keep him from leaving.

 

He gets away, but reimburses you with a bite to the lip. When he gives it a gentle pull before letting it smack back against your teeth, you giggle at the feeling and bump your nose against his for messing with you. He chuckles back at how cute you are and kisses your mouth again before moving down to leave lingering kisses and sucks at your neck. Stretching to look up to give him better access to your neck, you breathe several deep sighs as he continues to kiss at every blank spot he can reach.

 

As he licks at the dip of your collarbones, your head drops down again to rest against Semi’s hair. He probably still reeks of the smoke from the barbecue, but you don’t seem to mind. What you do seem to mind, however, is his pace. You’re already rubbing yourself against the definite bulge in his jeans, but he’s still leaving only innocent kisses along your shoulders. “Eita…” you utter through your faltering breaths as he sucks a dark mark into your right shoulder.

 

“Eita, please.” you whine impatiently when he pops off only to nuzzle his face into your soft neck. He chuckles at how easy you are to tease, but he’s soon cut off from air when you push his head into your breasts. He mumbles some unintelligible protests but you don’t let him go until he moves his hands down to squeeze your butt, which is bare and perky in his hands. “Mm~” you hum delightfully, letting him pull his head back as you arch your ass up to get more of his hands on you.

 

“And I thought I was the one who was suffering from the wait tonight,” he teases as he kneads your ass cheeks in his hands and simultaneously grinds you down against his clothed hard-on.

 

“You haven’t experienced true suffering until you’ve seen you the way you eat gelato.” you groan as you rock against him.

 

“Oh yeah? Why? What’s it look like?” he whispers against your lips as he touches his nose to yours again.

 

You don’t answer him right away in favor of rubbing your crotch in circles around his bulge, but you manage to speak again, even if brokenly, “The way… you suck on that spoon…. Ohhh… is like… how you… mmMMm… suck on… my clit… oohh…” your tortured moans are like commercial breaks within your sentence, but Semi enjoys them anyway. “Ohh… And when you look at me… while you’re eating it… makes me wish… Mmm… mmMM…”

 

This is an especially long commercial, so he stops rubbing up against you and uses his hands to lift your hips up, refusing you access to his hard-on. You whine in outrage, and try to push your hips back down to no avail. He’s got some pretty capable hands on him, and he wants you to continue, “Makes you wish what? Hm?” he hums into your ear, tickling you and sending a shiver down your body.

 

“Wish… Wish that… you were eating me out like that…” you mewl as you pout, sliding your hand down his chest to lift his shirt up.

 

Like a kitten, you make do with your new distraction and lean down to kiss and lick at his developing abdomen. As you make your way up with your peppering kisses, you push his shirt up with your hands, until it bunches up under his arms. Semi gruffly pulls it off and throws it to the side so you can suck at his nipples freely.

 

He runs his fingers through your hair as you kiss and suck all over his chest, humming sweet, dirty things to you like “I’ll lick your pussy all night if you want me to” and “you’re sucking on me so hard, and it’s not even my cock” and “damn, I wanna be inside of you so bad, make that tight, little pussy all mine.”

 

“Oh, Eita…” you whimper when you finally pop your mouth off of his neck, after having left your own fair share of marks along his body. “Want you… all over me… deep inside me…” you’re in the zone now, swallowing every dirty word he throws at you and spitting them back, “It’s big, isn’t it? I’ll bet it’s so big that you won’t even fit…”

 

Well, he’s not big to that point but he would argue that he’s quite adequate. You’ve already seen him fully hard since you’ve sucked him off once or twice when you both should’ve been doing actual anatomy homework… So Semi knows that you’re giving him a little bit of an ego boost.

 

“Yeah? You afraid I’m gonna break you?” he goes back to rubbing your hips against his jeans, “You afraid I’m gonna tear that cute little pussy apart?”

 

“Ughh… Break me… Please.” you sob, frantically rubbing yourself against him and calling his name like he’s your route to salvation. And with a few pinches and pulls at your clit, he brings you there, to your first stop of the evening.

 

You cry out his name and pulse against his fingers, even though they’re not inside of you yet. Your face as you come is so raw, so needy, so beautiful, and Semi could watch it for hours. When your breathing calms down a bit, Semi rolls you over to lie on your back, and you’re even more beautiful with the sheer fabric of the slip spread out at your sides. Semi loves it when you coordinate your clothing to match your hair, and you know it. This black and white contrast will be his end.

 

He leans down to kiss at your stomach and trail down to press his lips against the triangle of your soaked panties. He moans as he licks through the wet fabric along your slit, making you cry out needily. And damn, if the sound of you calling his name doesn’t get him going…

 

The fabric of the panties are thin, so he has little trouble in tilting his head to bite down the middle of it, bunching it between his teeth to drag it down your thighs as he moves off of the bed. You moan and squeeze your breasts as you watch him, pulling the panties all the way off of your feet before taking them from his mouth and pocketing them, “Souvenir.” he teases as you whine in embarrassment.

 

Semi laughs again and then gets to work on his belt and jeans, making sure to pull the condom out of his other pocket to hold between his teeth as he drops his pants and boxers to the ground. Climbing his way back over you, he hovers right above you with the packet still dangling by the corner from his teeth. You follow up immediately and reach up to clinch the packet between your fingers, and tear it to the side to open it while the edge is clamped between Semi’s teeth.

 

After spitting the small strip of silver out over the bed, he takes the condom from you and rolls it on seamlessly. You groan from the mere sight of it, and Semi’s heart swells. How is it that you can turn him on so hard and simultaneously make his heart flip without so much as a word?

 

He might have to figure that out later, because the way you spread your legs open for him as you gaze at him with wide eyes and a finger between your teeth makes his cock twitch. But first things first, he slips his hands underneath the two curtains of your slip and flicks them to fan out further, leaving your entire stomach bare to him.

 

A kiss here above your belly button, a suck there on your hip bone, and he blazes a trail of heady kisses along your navel until he reaches your eager, soaking pussy. He just stations himself there, right in front of your pink and aching entrance, and stares right up at your face. The look of pure anticipation in your eyes makes him feel harder than he already is, but he just lets the tension rise between you as he sits between your legs, watching you watch him.

 

“Eita… are you going to sit there all night?” you finally break, unable to control your twitching.

 

He smiles cheekily at you again, “I could.” and he darts his tongue out to poke at your slit. It’s gone as fast as it came, and you shake your legs in agony, crying and whining his name.

 

This time, he lays his tongue flat against the surface of your lips, giving you heat, but no stimulation. “Eita…” you continue to whine, and he loves it. He feels kind of guilty for getting off at how tortured your voice sounds, but he loves it. So damn much.

 

“Keep moaning my name, baby.” he says against your lips before making the first substantial lick all night. As you heed his call and continue to cry out his name in many different volumes and tones, he licks in and out and through you like that gelato you had watched him eat. He sucks at your clit as if it were his spoon, licks through your slit as like it resembles the creamy thickness of his dessert, and draws out your voice like he’s the conductor of your body.

 

But at some point, after you start rocking against his mouth, he just starts tongue fucking you, thrusting the hot, wet muscle in and out of you at a merciless, ricocheting pace. His neck is starting to strain a little from looking up to stare at your changing expressions, but he doesn’t want to miss any of it, so he pushes your thighs to rest on his shoulders as he brings himself to sit up. One of his arms comes to wrap around your waist and hold you in place as he continues the driving his tongue into your wet cunt like a jackhammer.

 

“Eita yes!!!” you scream as he slides two fingers into you to join his tongue’s assault. His tongue dives in and out while his fingers flap back and forth inside of you, urging you to come hard. And you do just that, all over Semi’s mouth and hand. He only puts you back down on the bed after he’s licked and swallowed almost every bead of your emission.

 

Semi is incredibly rock hard right now, and he wants nothing more than to be inside that hot, wet wonderland between your legs, but he thinks he needs to prep you through one more orgasm before he gets to enter you. The two of you have fooled around several times already, with your hands, mouths, and even just dry humping. But this would be your first time taking him whole, and he needs you to be completely ready, or he would never forgive himself.

 

“Eita…” you seem to want the same thing as he does, “Can I have your dick now?”

 

“Not just yet, babe.” he leans down to kiss you deeply and slip his tongue into your mouth, giving you a little sample of the heaven he just tasted. Then he slips his two finger back inside of you, and begins to slowly pull them in and out.

 

“Mmm, Eita.” you whine, wrapping your arms around his neck as he spreads you wider with scissoring motions. He continues to kiss you as he slowly and gradually adds another finger into the mix. He lets you bite and scratch at him as you please while he continues to thrust his three long fingers as deep inside of you as he can, as slowly as he can.

 

When he can freely wiggle those three fingers inside of you, and you’re not clutching at his shoulders with a death grip anymore, he adds the fourth digit for insurance and spreads them apart in all different angles inside of you. You wail at the sting, but suck something dark into his neck to cope. Semi doesn’t like seeing the pained look on your face, the deep furrow of your eyebrows, your bottom lip that’s threatening to bleed between your teeth. But slowly, very slowly, the signs of pain in your face, as well as the tension in your body, begin to disappear.

 

And eventually, your hips start to rut against his hand again. Semi watches you as you clutch his wrist in your hands to keep him in place, breathing erratically with hooded eyes as you climb up to your high once again. “Eita… Eita… Eita…” you continue to whisper like a prayer. And Semi wonders if he’ll actually be able to last long enough to actually get inside you.

 

After screaming out yet another orgasm, and panting hard as you pulse and throb around his fingers that you’ve still got trapped inside of you, you moan Semi’s name again, “Can I have it now, Eita?”

 

Semi smiles at your exhausted figure, completely spent and he hasn’t even put his dick inside you yet. “You sure can.” he gives himself another couple strokes before centering himself between your legs, “You ready for me?”

 

“Always.” you pant, clutching onto the sheets around you.

 

“I love you.” Semi reminds you before he tucks his head in past your slit. You whimper in excitement and clench the sheets between your fingers. As Semi slowly pushes in deeper, and deeper, you close your eyes and you throw your arms above your head, grabbing at whatever is underneath your hands up there.

 

He stays as still as he can because he is about to pop his load, god damn you’re tight. And then you fucking clench around him, oh fucking shit, “Fuck!” he chokes.

 

“Eita!” you growl, “ God damn , I love you! Agh!” you grunt as you start trying to move a little.

 

“Wait, wait!” he holds your hips in place, “Fucking shit. Oh, fuck, you’re so tight.” he mumbles as if that’s enough explanation to tell you that he’s about to explode.

 

“Does it feel good, Eita?” you hum, clenching again.

 

“Shit! Fuck, yes baby, it feels like ecstasy. Calm down, I’m gonna come in the next second, please.” he begs, clutching your hips tighter and resting his forehead down between your breasts.

 

It’s your turn to giggle, but you oblige in staying still. But that isn’t enough to shut you up, he realizes, as you continue the mindless dirty talk, “Ah… my god, I want you inside me everyday. I want your big, fat fucking cock to ram me into the ground until I can’t walk anymore. Eita, please…”

 

Semi is groaning loudly, half in pleasure, and half to drown you out so that he doesn’t fucking come in one thrust. To calm his efforts, he pulls out of you slowly -- you don’t seem to like that -- and he stays out for several moments, with only the tip kissing your entrance until he calms down. He didn’t realize that it would be this difficult for him, since you had taken him in so readily.

 

After another agonizing minute for the both of you, Semi finally reenters your tight heat, and you both moan in harmony. “Eita, move. Now.” you demand. And this time, he can follow up with your wishes.

 

He pulls out of you only to thrust back in slowly, again, and again, and again until you start begging for him to smash your bed in half. “You asked for it, cream puff.” he smirks as he takes a tighter grip on your hips and starts driving himself deep, deep inside of you without pause. Your screaming only encourages him to hammer into you at even more different angles, until he finds one that shocks your body like an electric current.

 

Currently, he’s got one leg hoisted up on his shoulder while the other dangles off the edge of the bed. It’s a queen sized but he’s already fucked you across half of it. And he keeps ramming himself into that one spot that has you screaming just an octave louder than the others until you self destruct. You continue to whimper his name as he makes his last several thrusts before coming as well.

 

He collapses just above you, with his arms holding his weight up above your head, sweat beading his whole body. He wants nothing more than to rest inside of you for the rest of the night, but he regrettably pulls out, carefully slipping the dangerously filled condom off and tying it up before dropping it in your trash bin.

 

After returning to your bed, Semi takes one last long look at your sated figure in that beautiful slip of yours before pulling the covers over both of you. You snuggle up to him and he wraps his arms around your soft body, loving the combination of lace and skin pressed against him, “Tired out?”

 

“Give me another hour… I’ll be up and running again.” you sigh sleepily into his chest.

 

Semi smiles because he knows that he won’t have the heart to wake you again in an hour to just fuck you one more time. But he has endless more opportunities for that in the future. Right now, he just can’t wait to wake up next to you.

Notes:

if you've made it this far, congratulations... and thank you! call me out for my trashiness in a comment! and see you in 2017 :)

Chapter 10: Kuroo Tetsurou - Metamorphosis

Summary:

idk wtf this is but i'll just call it a pets!AU in which.... you find out your cat has a special talent

Notes:

happy new year! i know many of you have been asking for kuroo for a long time, so i thought i'd finally finish this story that i had outlined a long time ago. (actually, i still have several ideas for this smooth talker. his character is just so easy to work with) i meant to post this earlier in the week but things got busy (it was my birthday a few days ago).

this story... definitely blurs a lot of lines. i mean, i guess you could say it touches on the concept of bestiality? either way, be aware of those themes, and don't say i didn't warn you. enjoy~

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Despite being an incredibly busy person who always seems like you have no time to spare for anyone, you actually strongly cherish your moments of peace. Being the lead stage manager of your city’s biggest theater, you’re constantly running around and smoothing communication between every member involved with the production. So you don’t often feel a sense of peace until the whole production is complete. And once it’s over you have to start preparation for the next upcoming production, and the cycle of rehearsals, setup, coordination, cues, and chaos kicks off all over again.

 

However, although you’re often overloaded with tasks and messages to organize and remember, and you fall under stress quite regularly, you manage to find joy in your quiet moments at home lounging around with your cat. Really, after a long day of receiving, relaying, and giving orders and fixing all the problems everyone has, nothing relaxes you more than the warmth of a cup of tea in your hands and your cat’s warm body resting in your lap.

 

Tetsurou is a playful, mischievous Chantilly-Tiffany and you had picked him from that one pet shelter that day several years ago because of his sleek black coat. You deemed it quite appropriate since your surname is Kuroo. Looking back, he was the cutest thing when you had first picked him up in your hands, all big yawns from a small mouth and the most beautiful golden eyes you had ever seen.

 

Little did you know that that adorable furball you met that first day would become a needy mess as it grew up, shedding its messy black fur everywhere everyday, crying for your attention constantly, and just getting a kick out of annoying you. You were afraid that with how often Tetsurou would meow for your attention, you wouldn’t be able to keep him since you didn’t want to neglect him.

 

But as he grew, he became your most loyal companion. When he noticed how tired you were when you plopped on the sofa after a long day, he would just paddle around on your torso before settling down to rest on your stomach. Those calm evenings where you would just lay there, stroking Tetsurou’s long black fur kept you sane for the most part. The weight, warmth, and vibration of his purrs resonated through your skin and settled your nerves.

 

Sometimes, when you’re feeling particularly sweet, you use a little baby talk with him. Like tonight, when you’ve come back from a late night of drinking and celebrating another finished production. This musical had been playing at your theater for a good two weeks, and you were glad you made it through every show without too many problems popping up. So you and your production crew joined the cast for dinner and you all drank late into the night.

 

Being a little tipsy, you tend to get a little more affectionate with your cat whenever he greets you upon your return home. “Hey~ Tetsu. How are you doing?” your words slur and your tone seesaws through your sentence. “Did you come to welcome me home? Did you? You’re the best cat ever.” you hum with a stupid smile on your face as you open your arms open for him.

 

Tetsurou simply sits there and meows at you, as if scolding you for drinking yourself silly. You just giggle at the words you imagine him saying, “Aww, don’t be like that~ It was closing night of the musical! Let me live a little.” you slide forward on your stomach to the ground, catching Tetsurou in your hands before he can escape your grip.

 

“Hehe~ Gotcha!” you chuckle mischievously, eyes hazy as you turn over onto your back and hold him above you like Simba. You start singing the opening theme of the Lion King to humor yourself but Tetsurou protests your awful singing with a lot of meowing, which only makes you laugh harder, “Okay, okay. Jeez. Everybody’s a critic.”

 

Bringing the cat down to hug against your chest, your breathe in the dusty, domestic scent surrounding his long black hair. “You’re so warm, Tetsu… Wish you would hug me back.” you pout, looking into his big golden eyes.

 

In all honesty, you really do wish you had someone to hold you right now, while you’re still joyfully drunk and feeling light. “Tetsu, if you were a man, would you see me as a woman? Or am I too off putting with how much I flit around?” you garble through your blurry gaze, assuming the black blob sitting on your chest is listening to you.

 

After lying there for another few minutes to enjoy the last moments of your tipsy stupor, you release a deep sigh and gently remove the cat to the floor. “I needa get laid…” You mumble to yourself as you stand and head into the kitchen in search of water.

 

*

 

The theater is working on a lot of prop storage this week, since the previous musical had to take their haul so you could make room for the next one. You’re incredibly exhausted at the end of each day, but at least you get to come home at more reasonable hours. Sometimes you head out to eat or drink with coworkers or friends, but today you’re on a lazy evening date with your cat and your couch.

 

You’re stretched out along the length of the sofa and you have a movie on, but Tetsurou is off somewhere in the apartment, off doing some cat thing of his. Kind of disappointing, since you were hoping to have something to cuddle with during the movie. You had even asked him, but he just walked off towards his water bowl. “How cold, Tetsu…” you had pouted, not that he responded.

 

When the movie is a little over halfway done, however, the black feline jumps onto the edge of the sofa by your feet. You don’t respond to his appearance lest he thinks you’re completely compliant to his charm (why does it sound like you’re playing hard to get?), and just wait for him to climb up to your chest like he usually does.

 

However, this time when he walks paddles his way up, he stops at your waist. “Hm?” you turn to look down at Tetsurou, arms still crossed and giving him a curious gaze. And then he darts his tongue out and licks at your crotch. Suddenly, you break into a smile, reaching out to grab him and hold him up in the air, “What the heck was that, Tetsurou?” you giggle, but pull him up to your chest anyway, enjoying the weight and warmth of your furry companion.

 

When the movie ends, you make to sit up and stretch as you yawn. Tetsurou meows in protest as he’s forced away from his comfortable position, “Well you were the one who didn’t show up when the movie started.” you accuse, placing him on the couch as you pick up your dirty dishes and walk to the kitchen sink.

 

Tetsurou continues meowing and whining and following you while you finish washing up, begging for your attention for a good ten minutes. Once you’ve wiped your hands dry, you pick him up and carry him in your arms, “Aww, whassuh matter, Tetsshu~” you coo, nuzzling your nose into his furry head, “You want a snack? Or a toy?” you pull out a can of tuna to show him, which he usually goes crazy for.

 

But this time, he ignores it and just keeps pawing at your face, accidentally scratching you once or twice, still mewling for attention. You hum and smile at him, “What? You love me?” Tetsurou makes something that you interpret as a deadpan sound, but you ignore it, “I knew it.” you giggle as you kiss his face, “Let’s go watch another movie.”

 

This time, you bring him into your bedroom and get changed into your pajamas so you can watch the movie from your laptop. After setting up the computer on the side of your bed, and bringing your cat to rest between you and the screen, you rest your head in the palm of your hand and settle in to start the next film.

 

It’s a short film this time, since you want to be asleep within the next hour or so to be ready for work in the morning, but Tetsurou doesn’t seem to want to watch it anymore after the first ten minutes. He crawls out from under your arm and hops off of the bed, and you sigh at the loss of your companion. He’s being kind of moody today.

 

You finish the short film by yourself, and it was quite romantic. However, the last scene is quite racy and puts you on edge. You won’t be able to fall asleep easily with your body like this. Sighing, you pull up a new tab and search for something… self-indulgent.

 

After browsing through a few of your options, you click on something that has the tags #bigcock and #pussylicking and watch twelve minutes of some badly lit and overcompensated angling, but some well filmed penetration. You start touching your own neck and breasts for a little while to tease yourself, and by the time the video only has a minute left, your hand is inside your shorts and you’re rubbing yourself into a bright light.

 

Admittedly, the feeling isn’t as satisfying as it could be since you don’t have anyone to fantasize about and you’re getting off on concept alone, but it gets the job done and you’re relatively sated enough to fall deeper into your sheets. Wiping your hand off with a tissue and flipping your laptop closed, you place it back onto your bedside drawer and pull the covers up, body tired and mind murky enough to fall asleep peacefully.






When you wake up, there’s a small weight on your chest, and you blink into the morning light to see Tetsurou resting on top of you. “Morning, Tetsu.” you murmur in your raspy morning voice. You spread your arms out to stretch and yawn, hoping that Tetsurou will wake up and move on his own instead of getting grumpy once you move him yourself.

 

After laying there and staring at him for a little while, you poke him in the side gently, and he paws you away before settling back in his position on your chest, “Tetsurou, mommy’s gotta get to work.” You coo, “I’ll come cuddle with you again tonight, mkay?”

 

Picking him up and strategically placing him in the spot you had slept in so he can still bask in your lingering body heat, you slide out of bed and head into the bathroom for a shower. You wonder what’s made Tetsurou so lazy these days. Usually he’s pretty active for a cat, always climbing around random objects and playing with new toys. But as of late, he’s just been glued to your side and whining for you attention more than usual.

 

It’s not any different when you leave the bathroom in your towel and Tetsurou is already hopping off the bed and pawing at your leg and you sift around in your closet for an outfit. “Are you hungry?” you ask him as you peel your towel off and hook it onto the hanger of the door before slipping on some underwear. The cat almost gets caught in it when you’re pulling your panties up, causing you to almost fall over.

 

“Ah! Kuroo Tetsurou!” you scold, picking him up and giving him your meanest glare, “That wasn’t nice. I could’ve gotten hurt, and so could you.” And so you punish him by throwing him into the living area and closing your bedroom door so you can finish dressing, ignoring his pawing on the door.

 

And it doesn’t stop when you’re settled down for breakfast and munching at your toast. You had filled up Tetsurou’s food bowl, but he’s already in your lap by the time you pick up your first slice. But this time he’s mounted himself up on your torso and looking straight into your eyes, with your faces only inches apart.

 

You blink at the black cat’s pretty golden eyes before moving your gaze down to where Tetsurou’s paws are mounted on each of your breasts. If you didn’t know any better, you’d have felt something like sexual tension rising between the two of you.

 

Slowly, you place your toast down, and then lift the cat up once again, “Tetsu, what is up with you? Are you trying to make a pass at me?” you smile, cooing at him because you find his neediness so incredibly cute, “Should we go and get you neutered?” you tease.

 

Surprisingly, Tetsurou meows loudly in protest and reaches his paws out to you. Humming and placing him in your lap so you can stroke his long, messy fur down to calm him, he eventually settles and curls into your lap, and you can finish your breakfast.

 

Forty minutes before you have to be at work, you remove a growling Tetsurou from you lap and set him on the couch with an old volleyball. For some reason, he likes pawing at and rolling around with it. He doesn’t do soccer balls or basketballs or tennis balls or even balls of yarn. But knowing his preference makes things easier for you.

 

While he’s still distractedly clawing at the ball that’s only slightly smaller than him in size, you grab your bag, refill your water bottle, and slip your shoes on before quietly leaving through the door, “I’ll see you tonight, Tetsurou.” And after locking your door, you jog down the stairs of your apartment building and walk briskly to your bus stop, contemplating in the back of your mind whether you actually should get your cat neutered.



*



“I’m home,” you sing in a glazed voice as you open the door to your apartment late that night. Your coworkers had invited you to have a drink with them this evening and you ended up having five. Maybe more, you didn’t buy so you didn’t count.

 

A lot of your subordinates kept giving you thanks and compliments tonight about all the hard work you do, and of course you dished praise right back at every single one of them until you were dizzy with all the adjectives and metaphors you had to come up with as not to be repetitive. There were a lot of supportive pats on the back, and squeezing your shoulders, and although you may have been imagining it due to the alcohol in your system, you think one of the cute sound guys was flirting with you.

 

He’s a little young for you, but you appreciated it anyway. At least, if it really was flirting. Stumbling your way to bed, you sluggishly change into a large t-shirt for pajamas. You’re not up for putting on pants right now because of the extra maneuvering required, so you just drop onto your bed although you know you should probably be drinking some more water or brushing your teeth.

 

A light furry weight settles on top of you and you wrap your arms around your cat, smiling with your eyes closed, “Tetsu~ Guess what? Tsukishima-kun thinks I’m incredible~” you coo, “I kind of am, don’t you agree?”

 

Tetsurou only makes a low rumbling sound against your chest, and you open your eyes, pouting, “Okay, maybe he didn’t say those exact words. It was something more like ‘it’s incredible that you can deal with all these loose cannons in your theater, senpai’ or whatever.” you chortle to yourself, “That Tsukishima-kun, he’s such a smartass.”

 

That he is. But he’s an attractive kid. Okay, he’s only two or three years younger than you, so he’s an adult in his own accord, but he’s still a fledgling in your theater. But even though it’s only been a few months since he started in this theater, he’s pretty good at his job. Takes on good leadership qualities in the sound booth and always relays information to you in a consistent and helpful manner. “I wonder how big his dick is…” you don’t know why you vocalize such a statement when you had just been mentally praising him as a good worker.

 

Tetsurou meows at you and licks at your collarbones, and you laugh because his tiny cat tongue tickles. You bring him up to kiss his nose gently, although you know you must reek of sake bombs, and hug him to your chest as you pull the covers over your body, “G’night, kitten.” you mumble, drifting off to an easy slumber.






Your dream is getting hot and heavy as the man you’re fucking pounds you into the floor of the costume storage room. You know you’re dreaming because you would never risk getting come or anything on any of the costumes in the feudal section. Those were crazy expensive and not easy to replace. But there you were, getting pummeled into the floor as you lay atop the most beautiful and high-end Heian designed kimono as if it were a towel.

 

Not to mention you would not just fuck anyone you have no memory of. And this faceless dream hunk of yours has a hot body, but no definable features in his face that label any particular individual you might be attracted to. But maybe that’s all you need as you grind up to match his smoking hot guy’s thrusts and clutch his muscular torso to you.

 

It gets more and more vivid as you feel more of the press against the soft fabric of the kimono, feel more of the delicious weight of this man on top of you sending you into ecstasy. The smooth, sinewy muscles in his arms are hard enough to crack and coconut against. “Yes…” you murmur.

 

You can feel something hot and kind of wet on your neck, and the sensation just heightens the heat down in your core. Everywhere tingles from pleasure, and you’re wondering why you feel so tortured even though you should be close to your peak by now with such a big cock driving into you, “Agh… yes, yes.” you moan at him, telling him to go harder. You need more. More.

 

As your hand clutches onto the fabric beneath you, you find it hard to tug up. It’s a small detail, but it’s enough to make you conscious of the fact that you’re probably lying on your mattress rather than the traditional kimono, despite how this pleasure feels so real . You’re whimpering into your partner’s shoulder and chanting small ‘yes’s as he continues thrusting into you. His heat, his weight, it’s all so, so… good. The proximity is delicious and his rampant thrusts are making you dizzy. His scent is everywhere, permeating the room and your skin.

 

“Yes… Yes…” you moan.

 

And then, “Oh god, yes.” this is the first time you’ve heard him speak. He’s got a sexy voice too, damn. “Don’t stop…” he breathes, hugging you tighter.

 

You hum a whiny moan and continue thrusting up into his red, hot cock. It looks so good coming in and out of you, tearing you apart from the inside. Groggily, you open you eyes to take a look at him, but… all you see is your white ceiling. You begin to realize that you’re just in your room, and you had fallen asleep right when you came home.

 

But… the pleasure is still so real. There’s still a delectable weight holding you down and close, the heat is phenomenal. Your weak moans still leave your throat as you hump up against a very bare and palpable…

 

Wait.

 

“Agh, yes…” That voice.

 

It’s much clearer and more substantial than the echo of a whisper you had dreamt you heard. Or maybe… you hadn’t dreamt? Turning you head, your nose is buried in a mess of black hair. It feels and kind of smells like your cat’s fur, but where is this weight coming from?

 

A resounding moan travels into your ear and you think you could come from the sound alone. His voice is just so raw and deep. And…. real.

 

You feel skin underneath your fingertips, pressing against your bare legs, rubbing against your thighs, everywhere around you. Oh fuck, oh fuck, it’s so good. “Ngh~” you moan into the man’s neck.

 

Wait.

 

A man?

 

Hold the fucking phone.

 

Your eyes blow open wide. You’re in your room, lying on your bed. And there is a man lying on top of you?? It doesn’t feel like he’s wearing any clothes, and he is most definitely humping against you with his hot body.

 

“Aahhhh!!!” you scream, pushing the man away from you. You keep pushing and punching and kicking at him until he falls to the floor in a heap of bedsheets and blankets.

 

He just rolls over and sits up, rubbing a hand through his…. unique bedhead, “Aw, why’d you stop?” he pouts.

 

“Who the fuck are you?!! How did you get in here??! I’m calling the cops!” you scramble out of bed yourself, wincing at the damp spot in your panties. You don’t hear the stranger’s lazy chuckle  and mumbling as you dig around in your bag and clothing from last night, until you find your phone in the pocket of your pants.

 

Dead.

 

Great. You had forgotten to charge it last night since you had just drunkenly stumbled into bed. So you opt for the nearest makeshift weapon, your katana prop hanging on display above your bed. It was a gift from a previous play you had worked on.

 

“Alright,” you hold the sword out in front of you, “How did you get in here? And who the hell are you?”

 

As expected, he is as naked as the day he was born, and also somewhat expected, he has a smoking hot body. Fuck. This is not the time to stare at his muscles.

 

“[Name]~” he whines, sprawling back on the bed like he lives here, “Come back. That was so nice.”

 

“I asked,” you strike the katana down on the bed just underneath his outstretched arm, “who you were. Answer me. How do you know my name? And how did you get in here?!”

 

Had you forgotten to lock the door when you came back last night? No, that shouldn’t be the problem. You may not have switched the second lock, but the doorknob was automatic. Who the fuck is this (hot) weirdo??!

 

“You mean you don’t recognize me?” he purrs, tilting his chin up to look at you from his position lying on the other side of the bed, “I live here. With you, [Name].” he smiles lazily.

 

“What the fuck are you talking about.” you spit, “I live alone.”

 

“Not for the last couple years, you haven’t.” he rolls around and lifts himself up on his hands and knees on the mattress, and you try not to notice the dangling object swinging between his legs. (It is indeed big though.) “That’s when you got me.” he smiles sweetly, purring at you.

 

You readjust your sword to hold in front of you, and he rolls back over. Oop, that dangly thing is definitely in plain sight now. It’s a damn nice sight too, shit. “Well… I guess maybe over thirty or so in cat years, though.” he ponders thoughtfully, swinging his calves at the edge of the bed.

 

“C-Cat… years…?” you repeat, too stunned to think right now. But even so, there’s no way… “What-What is y-your… your name?”

 

“Tetsurou. Kuroo Tetsurou.” he rolls back over and lies on his stomach this time, with his face cupped in his hands as his elbows hold them up, “Although I get called ‘Tetsu’ a lot.” he winks. Oh shit, if he wasn’t a possible rapist or serial killer, then that would’ve done a number on you.

 

“Don’t fuck with me!” you shout, still pointing your sword at him, “There is no way that you are Kuroo Tetsurou! Get out!!” you finally make a swing at him, but he just rolls over again on the bed, smoothly dodging your hit.

 

“Aww…” he groans, “But I’m so hard…”

 

“What?!!” you screech, face reddening, “I don’t care if you’re hard or soft or jelly, get the hell out of my house!!”

 

“Wait, wait, [Name]” he finally stands up, holding his (muscular) arms up, “It’s me, Tetsurou, your cat. You adopted me like… a lot of cat years ago, but since I learned how to read numbers I think it’s like... 4 humans years ago. We always watch those sexy thrillers you like on Friday nights.”

 

“Yeah, right! You really expect me to believe you’re my cat?” you scoff, sword still in place.

 

“Well, I thought you’d be able to tell.” he puckers his lips in a sort of pout, “I know all about you. I have the same hair that’s shed all over the floor.” he ruffles his messy hair with his hand, and he looks like a fucking model, why . “And I woke up in your bed, where I went to sleep.” he shrugs with a smile.

 

“All those things may be true, but you’re forgetting the fact that my cat is a cat . And you have human limbs. And you can speak the human language. And you’re probably just a fucking stalker!” you make another swing at him and he jumps out of your way.

 

“Okay, okay! How about if I do this?” he jumps back on your bed, bouncing a bit. But…

 

Right before your eyes, you see the man shrink. His opposable joints disappear and black hair grows everywhere. And pointy ears appear at the top of his head, and a tail grows out. And by the time he’s stopped bouncing on the bed, he looks exactly like your Chantilly-Tiffany, Tetsurou.

 

You stand frozen, katana still in hand, staring at the cat on your bed. Had there been a man in your room at all? Did you drink something that had this powerful of an aftereffect on your mind? “T-Tetsu...rou…?” you whimper, still holding your sword up.

 

Was this guy a magician? He could have done some poofing magic and just hid under your bed while he threw Tetsurou in his place. Your cat meows and you swiftly duck to lift your covers, check under your bed, your closet, look out the window. When there’s no sign of the man in your room, you rush out into the living room and check every room and cabinet you can get open.

 

Just when you’re checking your cereal pantry, your cat saunters out and jumps onto the sofa, and suddenly fucking morphs back into the naked man from earlier. You scream and fall to the ground. Tetsurou in… human form? continues to lie there on the sofa until you catch your breath and carefully approach him again. And once you’re standing beside him on the sofa, he smiles and holds his arms out wide, “I’ve always wanted to try being underneath you instead. I haven’t been able to fully control my shifting form until recently.”

 

“Y-Your… shifting form.” you tremble, not moving an inch closer to him, “So… So you’re really Tetsurou…” you try to wrap that around your head. This (hot) human man, is actually your cat. Or… your cat is actually a human? And he can manifest whichever form he chooses? “I’m crazy.” you murmur.

 

“No, not crazy. Just lucky.” he clicks his tongue and shoots a finger gun at you, “Not every animal in the world has this gene.”

 

“Gene?”

 

“Yup. I don’t actually know if it was naturally or artificially developed, but maybe one in a million billion or whatever number you humans use can do this.” he proudly rests his fingertips on his own chest, “With a lot of practice, of course. Even if you have the gene, it means nothing if you don’t actually work to utilize it. Took me like thirty cat years to even bring my tail in.”

 

“Uh… huh…” you reply slowly, unable to decide whether or not you actually believe this is happening. “Is it… only cats?”

 

“Don’t think so.” he hums, look up thoughtfully. His hands are behind his head now, and one of his legs is stretched out on the sofa while his other dangles off to rest his foot on the floor. He’s tall. Got to be around 190 centimeters… And he’s still. Fucking. Naked . “I’ve only talked to some cats and dogs around the neighborhood, but none of them seem to have the gene. Although I’ve heard stories from them about other animals who do. There are a couple in the city, probably.”

 

“Okay. Stop. Hold on.” you waltz off back into your room as “Tetsurou” calls your name. Your cat is calling your name… In the voice of a sexy, hot man. Have you really been living with this guy’s cat form all these years?

 

You return to the living room with your largest pair of basketball shorts and t-shirt, throwing them at him, “Put these on. I can’t talk to you while you’re naked.”

 

“Eh?” he whines.

 

“Do it.”

 

He groans but slips the shorts on anyway. He has some trouble figuring out which holes to put his limbs through, and after a lot of struggling and getting stuck, you sigh and help him pull the t-shirt properly over his head and through his arms. But even when he’s in the somewhat tight-fitting clothes (in a good way though, goddamn), you still cannot believe anything that is going on.

 

After staring at him for another minute, you shake your head and sigh defeatedly before heading into the kitchen to make yourself coffee. Tetsurou follows you of course, he’s always been clingy, and observes as you maneuver around the kitchen, pressing buttons and turning dials and picking things up with your opposable thumbs. He even tries to wrap his arms around you in a back hug, but you push him away.

 

You feel his curious gaze on you as you pour your cereal, so you turn to him and awkwardly ask, “Do you… want… some?”

 

“I want to try some human food, yeah.” he smiles and paddles over to the dining table and takes the seat across from yours that’s usually empty.

 

You bring the two bowls of cereal and spoons over to the table, and then make one more trip to retrieve your milk carton. “So…. uhm… can you use a spoon?” you ask first.

 

He picks up the spoon and uses his other hand to adjust his grip on the handle to match yours, then digs it into the bowl of dry cereal and smoothly puts it in his mouth. After chewing and swallowing, making a few weird looks as he does so, he smiles at you proudly. You clear your throat before pouring some milk into his bowl, and then into you.

 

“Thanks for the food~” he coos as he starts in on it.

 

“Y-Yeah.” you utter, starting on your own cereal.

 

The rest of the morning passes by casually enough. After washing the dishes, you plug your phone in to charge, hop into the shower (pushing Tetsurou out when he follows you inside), and when you return to your bedroom to get dressed, he’s on the sofa watching TV. A cooking show.

 

After getting dressed and preparing all your things, you refill Tetsurou’s food bowl out of habit. “Uhm,” you call out to him, and he turns his head to you immediately, “Did you want to… eat this? Or… or other food?”

 

“I can eat that while you’re gone.” he answers simply, “Can we have mackerel for dinner though?” he points to the TV, where the chef is explaining how to properly season a mackerel before grilling it.

 

“Uhm… sure.” you nod. He cheers and turns his attention back to the TV, fiddling around with the volleyball you left him yesterday. When you put your shoes on and make your way out the door, you awkwardly call out, “I’ll be leaving then…”

 

“See you later!” he waves at you happily.

 

You close the door, take a deep breath, and then make a dash out of the apartment building, because you are late.



*



For once, you leave work on time with everyone else. You had been out of it for a majority of the day, and your coworkers noticed. They asked if you wanted to take the rest of the day off, but with a new play to prepare for, there wasn’t a moment to lose. You had already lost an hour this morning when you woke up to a man-cat humping you into your bed. Well… not that you hadn’t reciprocated, but that is beside the point.

 

When you had brought up the animal morphing to some of your crew members as a hypothetical question during lunch, they had all just considered it as a good idea for an anime or TV production. “It’d be hard to put on a live production like that though, wouldn’t it?”

 

So you return home with a heavy heart and a small hope that Human Tetsurou will still be your cat when you open the door. “I’m home.” you announce.

 

“Yay!” a voice breaks you out of your thoughts and hopes, reminding you that this man is indeed a man. And he has been living with you for the past four years, sitting on your chest, cuddling with you, watching you eat, sleep, work… “You brought the fish!” his golden eyes that definitely match your cat’s light up when he sees the bag in your hand.

 

“Yeah, I did.” you nod, “You can relax for now, I’ll have it ready in maybe half an hour or so.”

 

“I’ve been relaxing all day. That’s all I ever do. Let me help! I want to learn how to do human things now that I have control of my form!” he hops over to join you in the kitchen.

 

So for the next hour, you teach him how to cook rice, slice and gut a fish, and how to hold a knife to cut things. It’s weird bringing your arms around his larger body to position his hands properly, but eventually he gets the idea and manages to cut all the vegetables without cutting himself.

 

Actually, he teaches you a thing or two by showing you the proper seasoning techniques he learned on TV, and to use a garlic butter to brush the fish later. And when he maneuvers the stove, he’s not too shabby with his use of tongs. “I was practicing today, actually.” he admits. “Although I still can’t use chopsticks yet.”

 

And not too long later, Tetsurou sits across you at the table full of rice, fish, and stir-fried vegetables. It’s a bit strange cooking for two, but you suppose it can’t be helped. And Tetsurou’s cries of praise for the food make you blush a little.

 

When dinner is over, he even follows you to learn how to wash the dishes. It takes him a moment to get used to the slippery soap, and a dish even breaks, but Tetsurou apologizes and you encourage him to keep trying anyway. Even after the dishes are placed on the rack, he tries to sweep and help you do other menial chores, which you appreciate, but also suspect he’s using as a tactic to get closer to you.

 

He’s been trying touching you countless times throughout the evening, but you’ve been pushing him away tirelessly. “But you always let me do this.” he had whined.

 

“That was before I knew you could turn into a big, horny man.” you had retorted.

 

The banter between the two of you is quite hilarious, actually. He makes you laugh a few times, and he’s watched enough media entertainment to have a human sense of humor. He’s still incredibly playful, affectionate, and needy. So it’s slowly becoming clearer to you that this is indeed the Tetsurou you’ve been with all this time.

 

But that doesn’t stop you from making him sleep on the sofa tonight, “But we always sleep together!” he whines.

 

“I don’t want another incident like this morning to happen again. I was playing out my wet dream on my cat , for god’s sake.” you huff, unable to face the embarrassment of the morning’s events. You did not want to remember how wet your panties were when you had taken them off.

 

“I don’t mind.” he purrs, coming in close to you again, “And what’s wrong with playing around with a sexy cat? Your scent these days has been filling the air like you’re in heat.”

 

Blushing up a bright, red storm, you push him out of your room and lock the door on him. Funny enough, he still paws at your door for a little while before he finally gives up. When you finally hear the rustling die down, you pull up your laptop and search up everything from ‘metahuman gene irl’ to ‘cat versus human biology’ to ‘my cat turned into a person for real.’ You sift through all the superhero franchises, read forum posts, research articles, and even look to mythology and folklore to give you some sort of hint about how to deal with this catman you’ve got in your house.

 

After an hour of browsing and reading, you groan and decide to turn in for the night, hoping you’ll find a lead soon.



*



You don’t find a lead for weeks. In those weeks, you teach Tetsurou in human form to do human things. How to ride a bike, take the bus, use currency, take a bath on his own, shop for groceries, clothes, and leisure items to entertain him at home. It’s like raising a child, which totally defeats the purpose of getting a cat because you had just wanted a lazy companion you didn’t need to take care of all the time! Now all of your free time is spent raising a full grown catman!

 

Sometimes you make bets with yourself about whether you’re going to come home to a cat or a man each day, although most of his time is spent in human form now. Sometimes he waltzes around in cat form, but usually only to try to cuddle with you. Eventually, you had let him back into your bed, but you warned him that he could only stay if he was in cat form. The entire experience is ridiculous, but you really cannot help the situation you’re in right now. Especially in the middle of another big production you have to handle, you can’t be worried about Tetsurou not being able to take care of himself.

 

For the most part, he can do it now. Sometimes he still has questions like, ‘how does driving work?’ or ‘what foreign language are they speaking?’ but he can get around town on his own, so long as he doesn’t need an ID card. He knows to use a payphone to call your number if he ever gets lost and he’s discovered many things, like sashimi buffets, book stores, school festivals, onsen, arcades, and to your distaste, dating culture.

 

You don’t mean the fact that he’s obviously been hit on by several girls on his excursions. What you’re concerned with is how he’s always checking out new dating spots and asking you to go with him. On your days off, you follow him, because you thought that he just wanted to experience something new as a human, like going to an amusement park, or going up Tokyo Skytree, or seeing the skyline at Yokohama, or just walking around somewhere in yukatas together.

 

Eventually, you noticed the pattern of him trying to copy what other couples around you were doing, like holding your hand, buying something for you (although it was your money he was using anyway), feeding you, wrapping his arm around you, trying to nuzzle up against you or kiss you. It was sickeningly cute. But just so weird. If only he wasn’t your cat, god damn it!!

 

You reject almost every one of his advances, but sometimes he catches you off guard. And although you would never admit it to him, you kind of like the affection he shows you. You’re never unconscious of the fact that he is so incredibly hot. And now that he’s developed his own clothing style, he’s even more attractive. Sometimes, your faceless man in your wet dreams appears as Tetsurou, and he always knows when you have one because he can smell it. Honestly speaking, you want nothing more than for him to satiate your sexual needs. But still, he’s your cat!!

 

It’s only when he brings up that he wants to start a hobby that you come across a sign of hope. He’s always liked watching volleyball games on TV and the volleyball in your house is his favorite toy, so he said he wanted to join an actual team somewhere. So you go with him to sign up at one of the local gyms.

 

That’s where he meets Bokuto Koutarou. They had some sort of unspoken immediate connection between them when they first laid eyes on each other. Tetsurou had just walked up to him and stared at Bokuto until the guy with the horn-styled hair stared back. Then they kind of just… pointed at each other, Bokuto shouted “Hey, hey, hey!!” and they had some sort of mutual understanding before they started chatting each other up.

 

Well, they had talked about volleyball for a good amount of time, but eventually Tetsurou brings him over to introduce the man to you, “[Name], this is Bokuto, he’s an owl! Isn’t that cool?”

 

“An owl… You mean like…” you had assumed he meant something about a nickname for him or something referring to his team, but then your eyes widen at the possibility, “Wait. You mean…?!”

 

“Nice to meetcha!” Bokuto raises his arm up high to slam onto your shoulder, “So I hear you’re Kuroo’s keeper.”

 

“K-Keeper?”

 

“Keeper, owner, lover, housemate, human person thing, it’s all the same, isn’t it?” Bokuto shrugs before laughing loudly. One of those things sounded a bit off from the others, and you’re not referring to the ‘human person thing.’ Tetsurou has made a rambunctious friend.

 

“Do you have one?” you ask him, desperately hoping you’ll be able to find someone with answers.

 

“Yeah! It’s that guy over there. Akaashi!” he shouts to one of the men on the court, whose shoulders seem to drop before he turns around to approach you guys.

 

“What is it, Bokuto-san.” he deadpans.

 

“This is my new friend, Kuroo.” Bokuto slaps a hand on Tetsurou’s shoulder before gesturing to you with his other hand, “And this is his owner, uh….”

 

“Kuroo [Name]. Pleased to meet you.” you bow.

 

“Likewise.” Akaashi bows as well.

 

“Akaashi-san, was it? Would I be able to talk to you later about… about this…. morphing thing?” you ask nervously, “Tetsurou kind of got used to his… new body… a couple weeks ago. But I wanted to ask you a few things.”

 

“I don’t mind.” he says calmly. His entire face and demeanor is calm. Almost like the polar opposite of Bokuto.

 

You come to find out that they are definitely a more than interesting pair. Akaashi had brought you and Tetsurou into his home so that you could discuss the matter behind private walls. And once the door had clicked shut, Bokuto jumped into the air and flew around the room as a horned owl while Tetsurou jumped around and chased the owl down in his cat form.

 

You and Akaashi just stare at the interaction between the two new friends, and you just mumble, “Well… this is…. something.”

 

“I know it must still be a lot to take in. It took me a while as well.” Akaashi says as he walks into the kitchen, “Would you like some tea or coffee?”

 

After settling down with your tea at the table in the kitchen, you ask immediately, “So how long have you and Bokuto-san been living together?”

 

“About seven years now, but for three of those years he was only an owl. After he gained control of his human form, he couldn’t wait to play around in it.” Akaashi takes a sip of his tea, “I was incredibly distraught at first. But after I had finally accepted the fact that Bokuto-san was indeed actually Bokuto-san, I trained him to function as a human. Getting him to adjust his nocturnal schedule was the hardest, by far, but we somehow made it work.”

 

“Trained him,” you chuckle, “I felt like I was a parent raising Tetsurou like a kid when I was teaching him how to do everything on his own.”

 

“That’s kind of you.” Akaashi replies, “Do you need any help with anything? I know we only just met, but considering our similar circumstances, I can’t help but want to offer a helping hand. Perhaps with getting him a birth certificate or ID?”

 

“You can do that? I have no idea how to approach any of this. I’ve just been teaching him to live and take care of himself while I’m at work.”

 

“I’ll be glad to help you.” Akaashi gives you a small smile, “If he’s anything like Bokuto-san, he’ll want to stay more in his human body than his animal body after a while. It took some time to get the documents, but eventually he was able to find work to take up his time and help me pay the bills. It’s actually been quite nice having him around. As you can see, he’s even joined my volleyball team.”

 

“Akaashi-san, I’m willing to take any advice or help you’re willing to give me. I’ve just been feeling so lost ever since this happened, and I don’t know how I feel about having this new person in my life that requires much more maintenance than a cat.” you rant, finally able to get all of your feelings out to someone who will understand you.

 

“And you know, the thing is, Tetsurou keeps coming on to me.” you continue, “He’s made it very clear that he wants to… continue what I allowed him to do as a cat before, and that maybe he wants more from me but…” you huff out a sigh, “I don’t know, I mean I feel kind of weird for being attracted to my cat, you know?”

 

Akaashi smiles gently, “Well, actually, on that account, I don’t think it’s necessarily a bad thing. It’s definitely strange to anyone who may not understand our situation, but Kuroo Tetsurou is definitely a human male now. His body works with both cat and human senses, so I’m sure he can detect things like… you know, when a female is in heat, for example.”

 

You blush hotter than a firework, “Oh god, he’s told me a few times, actually…” you lower you head to stare into your cup of tea, “It’s just… ugh, I don’t know. Hard to accept so quickly. But I’m incredibly grateful that I was able to meet you and Bokuto-san.”

 

“It’s my pleasure to help you. I hope you can work things out. With your cat, and your heart.” he smiles.



*



What kind of encryption was that? Akaashi had told you that it would all work out, but all you’ve been doing is feeling more frustrated as you resist Tetsurou. You don’t really want to fight his gentle touches and sweet kisses and warm hugs and smoking hot body. And ever since he met Bokuto a couple weeks ago, he’s been getting bolder with you and harder to resist.

 

To your embarrassment, you’ve been having a lot more wet dreams lately -- no thanks to someone -- and even though Tetsurou is in cat form when you go to sleep and when you wake up, you have a strong feeling that he’s got something to do with how wet you are when you wake up in the morning. And even with cat eyes, you can seeing the teasing glint that says something like, ‘Looks like you had a little accident.’ The little quiver in his tail he always does when he’s happy or amused makes you narrow your eyes at him before you hop into your shower.

 

Another time, you were changing and had somehow forgotten Cat Tetsurou was still chilling in your bedroom until you turned around and screamed as you saw him in his (naked) human form on your bed, watching you put your clothes on.

 

At your protests, he had just calmly replied, “What? I’ve seen you naked plenty of times. It’s not that big of a deal. Although you don’t even know how beautiful you are.”

 

That last comment had caught you so off guard that you couldn’t refute his previous ones about how he was still just your cat all those years. You had just shouted at him to get out and put some clothes on. “But my clothes are in here…” he had whined as you shut the door on him at that point, unable to take his logic any longer.

 

And more often than not now, you come home and he’s cooking dinner in nothing but an apron. You know he doesn’t care much for clothes inside the house since he’s walked around naked his entire life, but this is ridiculous. It came to a point where you had to threaten him with no more bed privileges if he didn’t at least wear underwear.

 

Yet another setback for you, because he prefers briefs now ever since he started playing volleyball. “Human junk is a lot more wiggly than cat junk.” he had explained. You’re not sure if having his incredible bulge tease you in a form fitting pair of underpants is any better than having it out in the open.

 

Sometimes he hops right on top of you on the sofa, to either hug your waist or lie his head on your lap to watch a movie. Often, you’re tired out from the new production at work, so you just stroke his hair like you usually would his cat fur. And he still purrs like he usually does, which admittedly makes you smile a bit.

 

When you reject his touch as he tries to do the same when you head to bed, he whines, “But Bokuto and Akaashi do it all the time. There’s nothing wrong with some cuddling.” and then he leans in to whisper to you, “And I know you’ve been wanting to do something else lately. I’ll gladly help you with that too.”

 

“Tetsu, shut up!” you shout and lock him out of your room for the evening.

 

You had met up with Akaashi several times since Tetsurou first joined the volleyball team, sometimes with the pets, sometimes without, and talked over some of your problems with Tetsurou’s intensifying advances. You had learned that Akaashi and Bokuto did actually have a physical and romantic relationship, and you asked him how he had accepted that development.

 

“Do you like Tetsurou? Regardless of his species and upbringing, he’s your close friend. Do you want to be with him as a man?” he had asked you up front.

 

“Well… yes. He is very attractive. And intelligent. And despite how annoyingly persistent he is, he’s very thoughtful.” you admit.

 

“Isn’t that all there is to it then?” Akaashi says simply.

 

“Akaashi, I don’t know if I can do it. In my mind, he’s still a cat. That will never change. How long did it take you to be with Bokuto?”

 

“Well, that’s true. It took me over a year to finally accept Bokuto-san’s feelings.” he muses, puckering his lips thoughtfully, “But I’ll tell you one thing: After I did, I had wished that I had accepted him earlier.” The smile that spreads across his face is almost devilish.



*



After stumbling home late after the celebration dinner for the final showing of the play, you kick off your shoes and lie there on the floor as usual, singing a cheerful tune from the soundtrack of the production. When Tetsurou appears before you, he leans down and sighs something scolding you, “Tetsu~ you’re still up? I told not to wait up~” you giggle as you caress his cheek with your fingertips.

 

“Let’s get you changed.” he grunts as he picks you up in his arms bridal style to carry you into your room.

 

“Aww, my Tetsu is so strong. Yes, you are, my big, strong kitty cat.” you coo your baby talk at him as you rub his face back and forth between your hands.

 

After laying you down on your bed, he asks if you want to change yourself or if you want his help. His teasing smile makes you want to tease him back, “Strip me down, Tetsu. All the way down.” you giggle.

 

“My pleasure.” he grins, pulling your socks and pants off before reaching up to unbutton your shirt. Sitting up, you stretch your arms up so Tetsurou can pull your shirt off of your body before you collapse down on your back again, breathing a heavy sigh.

 

“Kitty~ you can take the rest off too.” you purr, unhooking your bra from the front and pulling the cups away to set your breasts free.

 

From your drunken gaze, you can see that Tetsurou has slightly frozen at the sight, possibly wondering what his next move will be. “Tetsu, come on~ You know that I’ve been wanting your hot body all over me since that first time I saw your big new cock.” you titter, arching your chest up so you can pull the bra off of you to dump on the floor, “Come and get me, kitty cat~”

 

“Yes, ma’am.” his teeth glint as his smirk widens. And he moves in to pull your panties down and relish your naked body displayed for him like a painting. He wants to follow every stroke and curve of your body with his tongue and hands, and maybe leave new colors on it.

 

He leans down to kiss your smiling mouth, and you kiss back. You bring your arms around his neck to pull him directly on top of your body, wanting to feel him closer to you. Bless his naked body. You hadn’t missed his great size when he was hovering above you earlier as you laid on the floor. If you had enough energy in you, you would have reached up to suck his cock right then and there.

 

The heat of his skin is more delicious than you remember. You’re wondering in the back of your mind whether or not you’re going to regret this in the morning, but you know that you’ve been dreaming about this for way too long already. It’s about time you stopped dreaming and woke up to the reality of Tetsurou’s hot lips running all over your body, loving every inch of you. Heck, this is better than dreaming.

 

There are some sharp edges in his bites. You had always thought his canines added to his animalistic hotness. The light scrape of them against your nipple as Tetsurou sucks on your breast makes you breath a soft moan as you bury your fingers into his thick, messy hair. The hot shock you feel in the nerves of every end of your body when Tetsurou pops off of your nipple makes you so wet, as if instantaneously. And you’re right to anticipate the same shock after he pops off of your other breast after he finishes sucking that one too.

 

Traveling down your body, he makes good work of your stomach and hips as he kisses and bites at every free surface he can touch. The low rumbling you hear from the back of his throat sends a ripple of shivers down your spine, and dampens you even more. Tetsurou seems to smell it, because suddenly, his cat ears perk up out of his head. Although his black hair is a mess, there are clearly two large black cat ears poking out of the top of his head, and expand down to where his human ears actually should be.

 

You use your fingers to scratch and play with them, and Tetsurou’s body suddenly shivers. If you weren’t so wet already, maybe you would have come at the sound of his moan. His voice is so sexy, you don’t know how you’ve been able to resist him until now. The more you scratch at his ears, the more he seems to melt against you, judging by the way he’s just lying limp between your legs as his head lays on your stomach.

 

With another giggle, you lift your hips up and wrap your legs around his neck, pushing his shoulders down and bringing his mouth closer to your dripping entrance. He purrs against your lips and gives actual kitten licks at your slit. You mewl in return and wiggle your hips harder against his face and you give his ears a playful little tug.

 

He hisses, but in what sounds like a good way. And retaliates by thrusting his tongue right through your entrance to lap at your pussy (heh) like it’s filled with a sweet milk. “Ngah~ Kitten.” you moan, moving your fingers behind his cat ears to dig into his hair. Every flourish of his tongue inside of you strings you up tight like a violin. It very well does feel like he’s making music inside of you.

 

The sharps jabs into your inner walls and subtle scrapes of his kitty fangs against your skin rouse your sleeping muscles and fire bursts through your synapses. And the vibration of his moans that settle deep into your core make you tremble, turning your pleasured moans into weak whines. “Tetsu…rou…” you whisper, breaking his name in half as you come.

 

He makes a big show of slurping up every drop, not leaving your pussy for a good minute or two even after you’ve come. After bringing his head up, you smile when you see his ears wiggle a little bit as he kisses his way back up your body to your lips. When your lips meet, you moan into his mouth, loving your scent all over him. It blends well with his musky, domestic smell.

 

You can feel him all over you, filling all your senses with him, and you want more of it. Reaching down, you finally, finally touch that big, hot erection of his. He just barely fits in your hand, and everything about it -- the weight, the heat, the texture, the jutting veins, the throbbing tip -- sets you off into a fire. His presence is enormous, and you want to feel all of him inside of you.

 

You give him a few strokes and make to put him against your opening, but Tetsurou shifts his hips and pulls his length out of your hands. “Whyyyyy…” you whine, as he instead rubs his length against the line of your slit, breathing heavily as he does so.

 

It’s too much and not nearly enough. The heat of his length touching your throbbing, wet cunt blazes against your skin, but doesn’t fulfill your satisfactions. “Please…” you even beg, thrusting your hips up into his, not unlike the first time you had woken up to him humping you into your bed. But this time, even though there’s no barrier between you, he’s not letting you in.

 

“No.” he smiles cheekily, kissing your nose.

 

“Tetsurou!!!” your whine rises into a childish scream, quite unlike your sober, professional, calm self. Guess that’s what three beers, two sake bombs, and three mixed shots does to you.

 

“Not tonight, sweetie.” he chuckles, clearly amused at your desperation for him.

 

“Then at least let me suck your cock.” you pout, scratching at his ears to further persuade him.

 

His smirk curves to one side, “Now that, I can do.”

 

Once he’s lying down on his back, you crawl over to lean your head over his crotch, your ass stuck up in the air beside Tetsurou’s head. As you slurp him up into your mouth without using your hands, you hum in delight at how the weight and heat of him inside of your mouth actually tastes quite delicious. It’s like this is where it was meant to be.

 

The slide of his head against the roof of your mouth as it makes its way through to touch your throat electrifies you. He had barely fit in your hand, and you feel like your mouth is going to tear around his size, but you love it. You suck your lips in around him and let go, only to move up and suck at another section above, and you continue to make your way up his length until you reach the tip to swirl your tongue around it.

 

What you can’t fit in your mouth, you stroke with your hand. And when you start bobbing your head, you feel Tetsurou’s long fingers digging their way into you. Tilting your head just the slightest to see him from the side, he seems to be enjoying himself as he watches you from his spot propped up on the pillow. His bicep rests on the pillow beside his head so he can reach up to finger you from his lazy position.

 

Making eye contact with him, he sucks in a breath between his clenched teeth as you bob faster up and down his shaft, and even try to deep-throat him a couple of times. The longer you do it, the better his fingers feel inside of you, and you like this tradeoff. But with his size, getting air through would prove difficult if you stay there for too long, so you pop off and stroke him off until he comes. You even let some of it splatter onto your face, and you giggle when it paints a line across your nose and cheeks.

 

Tetsurou’s moan is loud and throaty, and his fingers work faster inside of you as you stick your tongue out to lick at any secretion dripping down your face. “Fuck, yes.” he groans as his fingers thrash around your slick, wet insides. And you scream as you come again, feeling overstimulated with his speed and curling fingers.

 

He pulls his fingers out and sucks them into his mouth as he watches you stroke the come from your own face to lick at it. “God, you taste better than anything.” he moans, head falling back.

 

You fall onto your side right next to him, burrowing yourself against the curves and lines of his body so you can feel every inch of him touching yours. Tetsurou pulls the covers over the both of your and wraps you up in his arms, kissing you to sleep.





When your eyes slowly blink open late the next morning, you see Tetsurou’s face just inches away from yours. He’s looking at you sleepily, and you feel him tug you closer, even though there’s not a hair of space between your bodies to erase. “Good morning.”

 

“Mornin’.” you yawn, still blinking into consciousness.

 

“Do you remember what happened last night?” Tetsurou asks in a gentle voice, which you appreciate because you are definitely feeling those shots right now in your head.

 

“People get pushing drinks at me, someone managed to get me into a cab, and you wouldn’t put your cock inside me, you selfish prick.” you mumble.

 

“Oya? Sounds like you still want it.” his smirk looks a little lazier in the morning. It’s hot.

 

“Of course I want it, you stupid cat. Put it inside me right now, before I neuter you.” you scold.

 

His laugh is throaty, a little hoarse from a several hours of idleness. It sings sexy into your ears. “Right now? Are you sure? You were pretty plastered last night, so I didn’t want to take it too far in case you changed your mind today.”

 

“Does it sound like I’m being influenced by anything right now? Don’t make me repeat myself.” you use your commanding stage manager voice on him.

 

“Feisty and demanding even in the morning. I like it.” he rolls over to hover above you, rubbing his length against your still damp opening. Your breathing starts to shorten a little as he continues rubbing himself against you, but only against you, like he had last night. You definitely remembered that. The torture was unbearable, and it’s not any better with this frustrating headache poking at you.

 

“So does this mean I can touch you whenever I like now?” he leans back and rocks forward to slap his length against your slit, making you gasp at the shot of lightning that stupefies your nerves.

 

You’re too busy panting to form a cohesive answer, so you just make an affirmative humming sound and nod.

 

“And I can sleep in your bed with this body from now on?” he rubs himself in little circles against you, making wet, squelching sounds against your damp skin.

 

You nod even more quickly this time, whining at the absence of his hot, veiny cock. Will you ever be able to taste it at this rate?

 

“And we can go on dates and hold hands and kiss in public and--”

 

“YES, TETSUROU! We can do all those things and be together, now will you please just put your dick inside of me?!” you yell, unable to grasp the reality of this situation. You’re begging for a cat who can manifest a human body to fuck you, and giving him permission to basically be your boyfriend. The whole thing is like a fantasy universe for an anime or something.

 

“Okay~” he singsongs, pushing two fingers inside of you rather easily and thrusting in and out until just a little more secretion drips out. After adding a third finger and seeing you groan in impatience, he pushes in his fourth finger and scratches at your insides while his thumb rubs into your clit.

 

“Aghhh!” you cry out, throwing your head back at the assault of pleasure his thumb presses into you. Tetsurou leans down to kiss you as he works his hand in and out of your pussy for another minute that feels like a month.

 

Tasting his hot tongue inside your mouth for the first time surprises you, although you should have known that cats are pretty adept with how they clean themselves. The sensation of the hot muscle brushing against yours is sweet, and rather affectionate. It’s like Tetsurou’s silent kitty way of showing his love for you.

 

True, he’s been with you ever since he was a baby. You were his whole world until just a couple months ago. And even now that he’s gone and seen a new world with his new body and perspective, he still loves you. He’s always loved you. And you suppose that the feeling’s mutual, because he has always been your hidden comfort. He’s become a helpful presence at home in addition to his soothing company. And you suppose even with the fact that he now has a bangin’ body, your love for him hasn’t changed.

 

Well, maybe a little bit, because you have not wanted a cock this bad in your life. And you can’t help the anticipation shining in your eyes as you watch him center his shaft against you. The insertion is mindblowing. So incredibly big . His entire existence fills you up to the brim, “Fuck, yes!”

 

“God, it feels amazing.” Tetsurou breathes against your skin.

 

“It’ll feel even better once you move.” you urge.

 

He doesn’t need to be told again. With his hands locked on your hips, he begins pulling himself in and out of your tight, wet heat, groaning in time with you to express his content. Every slide out feels like you’re losing a piece of yourself until he comes right back in, making you feel whole again. You can definitely feel that vein running against your walls as he continues to plunge his full length into you over and over and over.

 

“Faster.”

 

The soft thrusting slowly speeds up into a propelling speed. By the time you’re wondering where he went, he’s right back inside of you to from tip to hilt.

 

“Harder!”

 

And the pummeling starts getting animalistic as he growls, making you swoon from his growing attractiveness. It’s like he was sculpted to be a god, although he was born as a kitten. There’s not a thing about him that doesn’t turn you on or make you want to turn away from his glorious, miracle-working cock.

 

“Fuck! Tetsurou, yes!” you cry out, never wanting this to end. The euphoria is unexplainable. Impossible for you to even try to comprehend with words. And the way he grunts your name back at you, telling you how wonderful you feel, and how beautiful you are, and how much he loves you, it’s a wonder how you managed to hold back until now. The orgasm you feel spreads through every cell of your body, making your soul tremble, and you’re crying nonsense as you try to vocalize your intense pleasure. You’ve never, ever had one like that before.

 

“Shit!” Tetsurou gasps hard, pulling out just in time to spill himself over your stomach.

 

You look up at Tetsurou’s handsome face, slightly curtained by his messy hair and damp with sweat. His whole body is muscle and agony. Strength and tantalization. And he is yours now.

 

While you’re still catching your breath and still trying to get your eyes to focus, he grabs at the tissues on your nightstand and wipes your stomach clean. After bouncing down to lie beside you, he wraps his arm around your waist and rests his cheek against your shoulder, “That was so difficult.”

 

“What?”

 

“Pulling out. You know that a cat’s first instinct is to impregnate his queen, right?” he nuzzles closer to you.

 

“Thanks for the hard work.” you run your fingers through his hair, scratching at him like you would his fur. And with a little hum, his cat ears pop up.

 

You smile and scratch at them, making him purr and cuddle closer to you. You lay like that for a little while until a thought pops up, “Hey, can you do that with your tail too?” you ask.

 

“I think so.” he turns his head to look behind him until the bushy black tail sprouts at the top of where his butt splits off into two. He turns his head back to you to smile as his tail wraps around your thigh.

 

This really is a kitty universe anime. You stare at the tail around your thigh for a while, before finally looking back up at Tetsurou, “Fuck me like this.”

 

“Eh~? You like this kind of thing?” his smirk widens as his eyes become hooded, and he’s on top of you again. “Nyah~” he chuckles. And you can’t help but laugh along.

 

Or at least until he’s inside of you again, driving you into yet another staggering orgasm as his cat tail wraps around your wrist, where your hand is rubbing at your clit at Tetsurou’s request.

 

And for the rest of the day, you stay in bed, teaching Tetsurou how to put on a condom, how to adjust his posture and your body, making him make you come again and again, and returning the favor. At one point, you just forego the condoms and let him come inside of you as many times as he wants -- which he really likes; must be an animal thing. You decide that you’ll take one of your morning after pills that you have stashed in your cupboard for… emergencies.

 

It goes without saying that feeling up every inch of Kuroo Tetsurou’s hot body is an emergency, and you’ve been holding off on this treatment for far too long.

 

Around the early afternoon, when the two of you have fallen asleep to take a short break, your phone rings and you groan. No one should be calling you about work. The day after a celebratory dinner for the end of a production is always off. But once you see that it’s Akaashi, you answer.

 

“Hey, [Name]. I just wanted to tell you that I’m going to be able to get Tetsurou’s documents sometime within this week. Do you guys want to get together and have dinner or something? Get some drinks now that he has identification?” he offers.

 

“Yeah, that sounds awesome!” you cheer, “Thank you so much, Akaashi! I don’t know what I would have done without you. Thank you so much for all of your advice.”

 

Tetsurou has woken up now, and he pops an eye open at you and growls a little bit in irritation at the noise. He did seem to need a catnap after all the excitement earlier.

 

“It’s not a problem.” Akaashi replies, “I’m glad to be able to help you. Have you been able to… sort out your feelings about Tetsurou?”

 

“Yeah, I think I have.” you smile at the grouchy little (human) kitten lying against your body. “It was all a bit crazy, because I got super drunk last night after our celebration dinner, and I kind of just let Tetsu take advantage of me.” you chuckle at the tongue Tetsurou sticks out at you. You run your fingers through his bushy head to soothe him, and he scoots closer to your body.

 

“I see. Well, that’s one way to initiate something.”

 

“Yeah, I guess I’ve known for a while that I really love him. It just took longer than expected to accept it. I mean, I’m dating my cat now. Doesn’t that sound weird at all?” you lift your hand that was in Tetsurou’s hair up to make a questioning hand gesture that Akaashi can’t even see.

 

“Well I mean, I’m dating my gay owl, so I don’t think I’m much better off.” he says, and you can almost hear the small smile in Akaashi’s voice.

 

You chuckle, “I guess you’re right. Well, at least we have each other, right? Bestiality buddies.”

 

“When you use that term, it doesn’t sound right at all. They are humans now, too.” he argues. “It’s just that they can switch between different bodies and physiologies.”

 

“Alright, alright, Akaashi.” you chuckle, but Tetsurou seems to be done with the conversation. He’s already given you mean looks, pawed at your phone, and now he’s on top of you, licking at your breast.

 

“Hey, I think I gotta go. My cat’s getting frisky.”

 

Akaashi chuckles this time, “Alright. I’ll let you know when the documents arrive.”

 

“Awesome, thank you so much!”

 

When you’ve finally hung up and dropped your phone back onto your night stand, Tetsurou has made his way down between your legs already. “Well aren’t you an irritable one?” you ruffle his hair as he pushes his tongue in without preamble, and your affectionate touch soon tightens into a fist as you grab onto his hair.

 

And just like that, you continue where you had last left off.

Notes:

YES. I KNOW. I AM A DISGUSTING INDIVIDUAL AND YOU MAY THROW SHOES AT ME OR HAVE YOUR CATS ATTACK ME OR WHATEVER YOU SEE FIT. leave me a comment about it :)

and ofc feel free to talk to me - blushinggray.tumblr.com

EDIT: forgot to write this earlier but for this AU I have a couple headcanons that kuroo has a tabby cat neighbor named kenma (who is neutered) and bokuto likes to visit this nest outside the city that houses a family of crows whenever he goes hunting. cute right?

Chapter 11: Tsukishima Kei - Mirage

Summary:

tsukishima has found a new hobby.

Notes:

LONG TIME NO SEE. sorry all, for the wait. this is my last semester in uni before graduation so the work is starting to pile up. but i didn't want to leave you all hanging for too much longer so i found this deep in my old works and finally finished it. sorry if the pacing's weird again... but i hope you like it!

tsukishima is a second year in this one, and for some reason i turned him into a little more of a nervous, bumbling teenager. hope you don't mind too much. and sorry for any mistakes i missed! enjoy!

Chapter Text

Tsukishima Kei was far from lazy. Sure, he got tired more easily than some of his bonehead teammates in his volleyball club, but he prided himself in being something close to diligent in anything he did, whether it be academics, sports, filial duties, or just being a properly functioning member of society. Although he seems to just cruise through life in a lazy manner due to his calm and collected demeanor, he would not be labeled as something associated with being irresponsible. It’s just that sometimes, he likes to lay down. And think.

 

This wasn’t a big habit of his before, but these days he’s been plagued with the desire to just lie down on his bed, or the couch, or the floor with his hands together and stare up and away to be swallowed up by his own thoughts. Often these thoughts are really just the same exaggerated memory (read: fantasy) of some not-so-recent happening.

 

It’s all become so routine now that he can’t really bring himself to find the beginning of where it all started. This vision of a beautiful (yes, not just pretty, or typically cute, but beautiful) third year girl smack dab in the center of his field of vision. More specifically, looking down at him from above, with some sort of uncalled-for angelic light shining behind her gorgeous head and illuminating her very figure like some spring picnic scene out of a movie.

 

But it didn’t stop there. Sometimes, on… darker nights, when Tsukishima felt more protected by the evening darkness and the ungodly hours of the early morning when surely everyone would be asleep, he would see a different version of this memory. What was once just an exaggeration blows out into a full-on wet dream. A dream in which this same vision of a girl has less clothing on, or maybe a tousled uniform falling off of her shoulders, and sweat beading her forehead, and a look of agony (the good kind, he’s sure) wrinkling her stunning face.

 

In this gorgeous vision that would appear behind Tsukishima’s closed eyelids, he would also see himself in it. More particularly, he would be underneath this mess of a goddess, with his large hands on her pretty hips bringing her closer to his bare skin. He would be just as flushed as she was, and the heat between them would send them both to Elysium and back before he knew it.

 

And then his eyes would flash open in reaction to his overreacting pulse and the uncomfortable heat and stiffness underneath his covers. Although he didn’t want to pull them off because then he would undoubtedly be met by an embarrassing guest in his shorts that had woken up long before he did. Of course, he would end up alleviating the pain this guest brought in, with help from the same visions Tsukishima would reimagine again and again in his relaxed state lying on his back. Just the memory of that girl hovering above him spurred him on enough to have to change his shorts afterwards.



***



Well to start off, this wasn’t even Tsukishima’s fault. Not that it was hers either. Of all days that his homeroom teacher’s assistant needed help transporting student materials was the day that Tsukishima was the closest one on hand. He had nothing to complain about since he was just being the good student that he was, and helping the TA (who just so happened to be as gorgeous as his volleyball club’s old manager if not more so) carry some workbooks across the school to the teacher’s office.

 

Another chance encounter that there just so happened to be a student who was probably running late rushing through the same hallway. It was just bad timing that he happened to turn at the same corner that Tsukishima and the gorgeous TA were about to walk into.

 

The collision happened too fast for anyone to realize what happened. Tsukishima didn’t even remember the girl supposedly knocking into his head and sending him to the floor, only to receive another blow to the head from the backside as well. This has never even happened to him during a volleyball game. What are the chances of this cliche happening in real life?

 

The next thing he knows, as his eyes open slowly, the beautiful girl is leaning over him and asking if he’s all right in her surprisingly level voice. “Tsukishima-kun, can you hear me?”

 

He blinks again to make sure that he’s actually returned to the conscious world, wondering if this shining mirage of an angel landed on earth in his school’s uniform is actually looking down at him. He replies with a soft, “Yes…?”

 

“Do you know where you are right now?” she asks again, in her somewhat deep, calming voice. The sun shining from outside is literally at the perfect angle where her head blocks the shape of the huge star, but lets the light rays beam and illuminate her figure.

 

“Uh… school. We were going to the teacher’s office to drop off some materials.” he regains control of his voice.

 

“Are you in any pain?” she finally backs away from him to let him sit up. He hadn’t realized that she had been hovering over him that closely. Their faces were at a good foot apart but that was still a bit close to inspect someone who just fell down.

 

Tsukishima sits up slowly, as not to aggravate his head and to come to the realization that no, he had not just seen a glimpse of heaven, it was just an illusion created by all the right angles. “I should be fine.”

 

“Are you sure?” she asks again, to which Tsukishima nods. “Well, just in case, after we bring these books where they need to be, I’ll take you to the nurse’s office to have you checked out. Just in case.”

 

“I’m really sorry again!” the the culprit of this entire mess suddenly reminds Tsukishima of his presence. The workbooks were stacked up again into haphazard piles. He must have picked them up when the TA was trying to wake Tsukishima up. Or maybe even after he had come to. Perhaps he had been too caught up staring at the beautiful girl to notice.

 

“Just be more careful. You can go to class first.” she dismisses the boy with a small smile. Tsukishima doesn’t miss the small blush and stutter in his reply when he bows and bounds down the hall again towards his classroom.

 

“Let’s go.” she picks up her piles of workbooks and Tsukishima follows, staring at the girl’s back and wondering how she can look so beautiful even from this side.

 

Walking next to her, she was at least a head shorter than he. But why did she look so good from above? The more Tsukishima thought about it and pictured it, the more alluring she would seem, looking down at him with her bewitching body hovering above his.

 

Throughout the rest of the day, and the week, and the month or so, he would remember that same picture every time he saw her. When she passed by in the hallway, when she visited the homeroom teacher in their classroom, when she was outside when Tsukishima just so happened to be looking out the window. That memory of her shining image looking down at him from above would rematerialize in his head and at some point, he would see it even without her presence to remind him of it.

 

Tsukishima found himself just daydreaming about it when he would lie down, relaxed and in the same position as he was on the ground that day in the hallway. And then, the memory would become distorted by his god-awful teenage hormones in his sleep. He would mix up memory with fantasy and his dreams were more often consisting of the same beautiful third-year girl in a more compromising state of dress. She would still be hovering over him, that aspect never changed, but that damned subconscious of his would meddle with that pure and beautiful memory and churn out something raw, filthy, disheveled, and above all, hot . In every sense of the word.

 

And these days, he’s often haunted by his awful… desires, or as he prefers to refer to them, reoccurring dreams (call them what he may, they definitely stem from his subconscious desires). Whenever Tsukishima sees her now, he pays careful attention to his facial expression and body temperature, determined not to let anything about him seem off. Just because he’s developed some sort of…. crush, or lust, whatever it was on his homeroom teacher’s assistant, doesn’t mean he can let it get the better of him.

 

But that’s damn easier thought (as if he’d even try saying it) than done. With these visions/memories/images clouding his mind at least half of the day, there’s no way he can focus on keeping his life together without anyone noticing how he’s falling apart to his own secret desires. And that’s proven to him when the homeroom teacher calls him to the office one day.

 

“Tsukishima-kun, I don’t know if anything has happened to you recently, but I heard that you’ve been less focused in many of your classes. And your recent quiz scores have been dropping a bit.” He had let it get to the point where his grades were suffering?? This has become a bigger problem than he had anticipated. “Is there anything going on that I can help you with?” the teacher inquires.

 

“Uhm, no sensei. It’s a small personal problem, but I will work my hardest to bring my grades up and become more focused in class. I apologize for causing any worry.” he bows his head quickly.

 

“Well, if you’re having any trouble, don’t be shy. You can come talk to me about it.” the teacher reassures him, “But do you know my TA, [Name]-chan? If you’re having trouble understanding any material or studying, she said that she is willing to help you if you like.”

 

Tsukishima did not know how he felt about this. Laying out the possible outcomes, he might end up doing better if he interacts with her and comes to see that she’s just another regular student and not some mirage of heaven. On the other hand, his inappropriate lust for a senpai will amp up his desire and he’ll do even worse because he’ll be too distracted staring at her and fighting the need to confirm if she looks as gorgeous in real life with a ruffled uniform as she does in his wet dreams.

 

Judging by how things have escalated this far, he would end up in worse condition than he started if the latter were to happen. He may be smart, but even he didn’t know that his body had this much control over him. Who knows what would happen if he was in closer proximity to her again?

 

“Sure. That would be helpful.” he says before he finishes thinking. Wait, what?

 

“Alright then, I’ll let her know and give her your contact information. You two can settle the rest on your own.” the teacher turns around in her chair, getting to work on it. “You can head back to class.”

 

“Ah… yes. Thank you very much.” he bows again before leaving the office.

 

What had he done? Was he hanging around his club teammates too much? He was never really into risk-taking. On the court, he didn’t settle on 50-50 plays. He calculated enough so that he would be almost sure that his plays would go through before he took action. Somehow, despite how quickly he could think on his feet, the answer had slipped out of him before he had finished.

 

But now that he had said yes, should he just go through with it? He always had the option of declining her offer if she ever actually got back to him. But he would have to step it up and bring results back to show that he really didn’t need her help. Could he do it? Should he do it?




Tsukishima receives a text message that evening from the girl indirectly causing all of his problems, and he tries to ignore how his heart had leapt when he found out it was her. After staring at his phone for a good 10 minutes, and then laying down to think about what to do for another 10 minutes, he eventually decides that he’ll take one of those bonehead risks. And if it ends up taking a turn for the worst, he can just cut it off.



***



“Tsukishima-kun, are you listening?”

 

The boy addressed blinks and looks down at the problem that she had been explaining to him. Crap, if his gaze wasn’t on the paper at first, that means he had been staring at her. “Oh, sorry. Could you repeat it?”

 

“How about a snack or something first? You’ve been working hard. We can have a little break and then I’ll get back to explaining this to you.” she proposes.

 

“Sure.” Tsukishima nods, prompting her to leave her seat at the living room coffee table to go to the kitchen. Meanwhile, Tsukishima absentmindedly pets the cute little shiba that has bounded up to him. The dog was hostile for the first couple of visits, but then he was suddenly ecstatic to see the boy when he finally got used to his scent around the house.

 

Well, things had been going well for the most part for the past two weeks she had been tutoring him. He came to her house 2-3 times a week after club activities since it was closer to school and on the way to his house anyway. His grades did get a little bit better, since they were drilling him to the point that he would just remember it subconsciously despite how something else usually occupied his mind.

 

In these two weeks, he got to know her a little bit since he would stay for dinner so they could finish covering the material. They shared similar tastes for music and desserts, but they disagreed on some philosophical things. She had the misfortune to meet his teammates since she had come to pick him up at the clubroom once or twice after practice since she had happened to finish around the same time.

 

They had said some purposely embarrassing things about how he, of all people, needed a tutor. Even Yachi popped up to ask, “Are you sure Tsukishima’s not just trying to get closer to you? He’s not dumb by any means.”

 

That accusation was completely uncalled for. If anything, he was trying to do the opposite by getting to know her so that he could reshape his image of her into a regular person rather than a gorgeous deity of some sort that he would easily kill his whole team for to have her on top of his naked body. Although the past few sessions haven’t really done anything to take him in any new direction.

 

But she found Tsukishima’s relationship with his teammates incredibly amusing and would make jokes about it sometimes. Her cute laugh did nothing to help him reinstill his pure and beautiful image of her in his mind. And sometimes, when she would lean in a bit closer to point something out in his textbook, he would get a whiff of her shampoo and feel a terrifying twitch in his pants.

 

Hell, he had gotten a good whiff of it today when she had let her ponytail down and fluffed her hair out while he was taking his practice exam. He was stroking the dog to distract himself a bit from the small bulge that has appeared in his uniform. Luckily, the bump was small enough to seem like he just had his pants on a little too tight.

 

“Ta-da! Look Tsukishima-kun!” his tutor pops back into the living room with a pleasant surprise in her hands. Two plates with a slice of strawberry shortcake in each. “My mom found out that you like these too, so she bought a whole cake from the bakery the othe-- Ahh!!”

 

It all happens in another cliched flash. The shiba had gone bouncing off in her direction and somehow caught her at an angle in which she tripped forward in order not to step on the pup. And she came crashing down on Tsukishima, the cake cushioning the blow just a bit. And then before Tsukishima can take it all in, she’s kneeling above him again, this time with cake and frosting smeared all over her front shirt and neck and chin.

 

Tsukishima must look worse for wear since there are a couple smatterings of frosting on his glasses, but suddenly the pretty little klutz is apologizing fiercely, in her own calm, way. She grabs the tissues on the coffee table and starts wiping at Tsukishima’s face, unaware of how both her knees are on either side of his hips as she wipes him down, “Oh, forgive me, Tsukishima-kun. What a mess I’ve made.”

 

His clothes aren’t the only things that are a mess. His heart and head are in jumbles, trying to keep his body complacent as he just stares up at the girl gently wiping down his face and neck, saying something or other about washing his clothes. But his golden eyes are zeroed in on that smudge of white on her chin. And before he can stop his body from reacting, Tsukishima has placed a hand on one of her hips, making her stop her movements.

 

“Tsukishima...kun…?” she says slowly as she watches his other hand raise a thumb up towards her face, and he swipes the dollop of frosting off of her chin. She’s about to quietly thank him when he just stares at his thumb like it’s a new organism he’s never encountered, and then flicks his tongue out to lick it off.

 

When they meet eyes again, Tsukishima realizes the implications of his actions that he had just done automatically. They were just the simplest answers to his needy questions, like “How does it taste? Will it taste like her? How good will it be?” He had been too caught up at the temptation to see if it really did taste like the nectar of the gods that his tongue had come out on whim.

 

The two just stare at each other for several moments, as if frozen in time (of course, the shiba chooses now not to interrupt anything). Then when the girl glances down before quickly meeting her junior’s eyes, she speaks first, “Tsukishima-kun… you’re… hard.”

 

And somehow, instead of blushing like crazy and backing up until his back hits the wall and apologizing for ever even looking at her like he thought he might, he just moves his thumb that’s still on her hip, caressing her just slightly. It’s quick, but he feels the smallest shiver beneath his palm. He should pull away, he really should, but the supple weight he feels beneath his hand has him magnetized to the heat.

 

After another tense silence, she speaks again, “So were your teammates right, Tsukishima-kun? Were you trying to get closer to me?” she places her own hands on both of his shoulders. One of them has the dirty tissues blocking the pressure of her touch but the other hand leaves a delicious weight on his body that he wants more of. How can he get more of it? How? How??

 

“In a way.” he admits.

 

“Is this the reason why you wanted tutoring? You were hoping that I would fulfill your sexual desires?” she smiles playfully. Of all things to do, she’s smiling at him. Could that possibly mean… there’s hope?

 

“That was not the objective. I wanted to help myself somehow because I couldn’t get you out of my head.” he’s surprised at how brutally honest he’s being about himself, “But… with you on top of me like this…” he rasps, stroking his thumb on her hip again, “It’s getting a bit…. Difficult.”





With the way he’s biting onto his lip and how his eyes are looking so omnivorously up at her, she finds it hard to deny his pull. All the lingering glances he would give her, she thought they were just coincidences. But as they continued to meet and interact, it was clear that he couldn’t take his eyes off of her, despite how hard he tried. There was no hiding the hungry glint in those pools of gold.

 

It wasn’t hard to believe. Not to brag, but she was quite sought after. She was like the Shimizu Kiyoko of her time (the gorgeous boys’ volleyball manager who had graduated last year). And although she wasn’t as cold as her senpai, she didn’t lie to anyone. If anyone had confessed to her, she turned them down flat, not wanting to lead anyone on if she clearly wasn’t interested.

 

She had kept Tsukishima Kei on hold because he was an amusing enigma. He clearly wanted her but was trying so hard not to give in to his true nature. His body was twitching towards her, probably screaming for her in the depths of the night, but he tried his hardest to hide it away. But even if he was a better actor, there was no hiding the semi-bulge that would appear every other time they met and she just so happened to brush against him, or even just lean towards him to teach him something.

 

The boy was attractive enough, and maybe this was what he needed to get over this academic slump he was going through. So after some thought, she decides to put him out of his long misery. “Then… shall I help you out?”

 

“What?” neither of them can tell whether he’s just startled by her offer or if he had actually heard it at all.

 

“I think you’re quite attractive, Tsukishima-kun.” she admits in her lower, sultry voice that gives her an aura of maturity that far surpasses the majority of high school girls. “And I’m here to help you. If you think… this will help you somehow… then I am willing to do my part.”

 

“[Surname]-san…” he breathes, eyes widening slightly. She waits patiently for him to make the next move, which actually takes him a good minute. She’s quite impressed that he can stand to think while the air is so thick with sexual tension.

 

“Then…” he starts, “Please forgive me. I’ll be in your care.”





Tsukishima himself is quite surprised at at how easily he gives in. He took his sweet, albeit tantalizing, time thinking it over. Weighing the pros and cons, wondering about the future, imagining the different outcomes of his response like he was playing an otome game, but ultimately, he realizes she’s right. If he can just merge his fantasies with reality, maybe he’ll realize that it’s not such a big deal. Creating a concrete experience will help him get over his bothersome, recurring thoughts and he just might be able to rest easy again at night.

 

“Well, let’s get to it then.” she smiles easily and stands, offering a hand to her junior. Tsukishima takes it and lets her lead him to a room at the back end of the hallway. After visiting the house several times, he recalls that her bedroom is upstairs, so he’s filled with wonder as to what kind of room she’ll find suitable for this… transaction… to take place.

 

But once he steps in, Tsukishima almost feels himself soften in his pants when he sees the laundry appliances in the small room. “Close the door.” she requests as she dumps a full basket of lights into the washer. Tsukishima responds accordingly and turns to close the door, only to find his tutor stripping down her blouse when he turns back around.

 

She drops it into the washer as the water begins filling the machine, and proceeds to pull her skirt down to throw into the other pile of dark clothing. And although he has imagined seeing her bare skin more than he would care to admit, the actual glow she seems to emit jars him.

 

“You can throw your shirt in here too. Don’t want you to leave here with that mess still on you, right?” she smiles up at him normally, as if she’s oblivious or apathetic to the fact that she’s in her undergarments. Her simple light blue bra and lavender panties are slightly mismatched, but they’re both stripped off and thrown into the washer as well. And now there is really nothing obscuring Tsukishima’s view of every fine detail of her body. He tries to take it all in as fast as he can, every mole, every curve, every angle.

 

But he can’t drink it all in. He must look kind of rude right now, leaving the lady to get fully undressed while he has yet to peel off a single layer. So under her patient gaze, he unbuttons his shirt and shrugs it off, gently lowering it into the already filling washing machine. And as he unbuckles his belt and unzips his pants to pull them both down, he starts to blush a little.

 

What is she going to think when she sees his lanky body? Sure, he’s tall and not ugly, but he’s been told quite often how scrawny he is. He may be a stronger blocker now, but his limbs are still closer to the skinny side rather than lean. And oh god, it’s all hitting him right now, she’s going to see his dick. What if she thinks it looks weird? Has she seen other ones before? Will he be able to live up to whatever standards she has? And what if he--

 

His destructive thoughts are interrupted by a low whistle. He looks up from his flushed panic to see her lips perked up as her eyes are trained on the bulge in his boxers. When Tsukishima continues to stand frozen in place, she finally walks up to him and pulls at the elastic waistband herself, “Let’s see what kind of monster you have hiding in here, yeah?” she smiles teasingly up at her nervous student as she pulls the boxers down.

 

As she pulls the fabric down Tsukishima’s thighs, her knuckles graze against a remarkable size. When she lowers herself to pull his pants and underwear all the way down, she lets out a chuckle that Tsukishima finds worrying. Is she laughing at him?? Is he a weird size? Or unsatisfactory in any way? Like the rest of this body, he’s got length, but he’s not necessarily thick. If fully hard, he might pose as a little more impressive, but he’s so flushed and red hot right now. Honestly, the contrast against his fair skin mortifies him. He probably looks like just another hormonal teenage boy to her.

 

But amidst his thoughts, she relieves him of the first touch by holding him in her hand and giving the head a generous suck before licking around it. Tsukishima is so thrown off that he forgets to hold back the small moan that slips through his throat. She pops off with a delighted hum, and the boy can’t help his relieved sigh at your approval.

 

He steps out of his remaining clothing bunched around his ankles, and she picks them up to fold them to the side near the basket of darks. And after adding the detergent into the washer and closing the top to start the spin cycle, she turns and hoists herself up onto the vibrating machine. Her smooth smile gets darker as she beckons her junior forward, spreading her very much bare and exposed legs open to make space for him, “Come here, Tsukishima-kun.”

 

Obliging immediately, he steps as gracefully as he can towards the beautiful girl who’s completely disrobed and opened herself up to help him. That’s right, she’s helping him. So Tsukishima has to make sure he makes this experience effective. He’ll have to lay bare all of his desires in order to resolve them.

 

He stands right in the middle of the space between the gorgeous, creamy thighs of his tutor that he has only seen in peeks between knee socks and a flowy skirt. And as the space closes between them, and her arms come to wrap around his neck, Tsukishima finds his ambition again. When he presses his lips against hers, he can still taste a bit of the tea that they had earlier. It’s a delightfully fitting taste for her, and only minutes later, the middle blocker has stolen her breath away.

 

Pulling away from her lips when breathing through her nose doesn’t seem to be enough, Tsukishima begins kissing down her jaw and neck, lapping at the leftover cream still stuck to her skin. The sweet sapor of the cake frosting mingles beautifully with the sensation of her skin, and when cream is all but gone, Tsukishima still searches for more. He sucks at her neck in several spots, trying so hard to taste that luscious combination of flavors again.

 

He almost doesn’t realize that she’s moaning. They’re rather quiet sounds, but he can’t ignore the reaction when her legs that had wrapped around his waist tighten, pressing his hard-on closer against the quivering washing machine. That is when he hears her whimpering voice, “Tsukishima-kun… oh…”

 

It’s more surreal than he can perceive. The girl who had been haunting his mind both in and out of consciousness, actually moaning his name, calling for him, wanting him, enjoying what he’s doing to her. When he’s given her neck the most thorough laving of his life, he stands up again to properly look at her flushed face. And it’s just as beautiful as he’s imagined, if not more so.

 

Pink dusts her cheeks, her chest, and even a little bit of her shoulders, and she’s panting with her limbs completely wrapped around him. “Tsuki… Tsukishima-kun.” her eyes are shining with want, and a bit hazy from the pleasure her junior had just induced her to. “Please… more…”

 

“Yes.” he replies simply, bringing his hands down to her hips again, squeezing the lithe muscle and skin under his palms and fingers. And he brings his head down to kiss and bring a nipple into his mouth. He adjusts his technique and pressure by listening to the lilting whines and groans of her voice, even throws in a bite now and again.

 

By the time Tsukishima migrates to the other breast, the girl turned pliant underneath her student’s large hands is already rocking and rubbing herself onto the surface of the machine trembling beneath her. Her voice begins to tremble with her as the spin cycle intensifies, and Tsukishima hardens further as he hurts his name vibrating through her throat.

 

And then she reaches down to grab hold of his shaft and start stroking. Without his consent, Tsukishima’s body moves on its own and leans into his tutor’s touch. He presses closer to her, and even starts rubbing himself against the washing machine with her hand in between. The color bursts in his cheeks and ears, but the pleasure is too good for him to stop. And he’s already embarrassed himself enough already with his obvious want for her. She just takes it all in and continues stroking, leaving licks and kisses along his shoulders.

 

But as hot as all of this is, as much as he doesn’t want to scare her, this isn’t what he truly wants. Tsukishima wants to see her in the position he’s been seeing her for the past several weeks - months - in his mind; sitting above him. And if this is his only chance, then he’ll have to take the risk, “[S-Surname]-san,” his voice sounds so weak, it’s pathetic.

 

“Yes, Tsukishima-kun?” she whispers into his ear. If he could grow any harder than he already is, he would have at that moment.

 

“Will you… will you ride on me?” he feels ridiculous asking this. If he could have phrased it any other way, she would still be able to tell that he was an inexperienced virgin.

 

She pulls away to stare at him, probably observing every feature of his expression, from his nervous eyes to reddened tips of his ears. But after another tense second, she smiles, “Sure.”

 

Tsukishima feels like he could melt and flood himself into a river of relief, and excitement. This is really happening, and maybe his problems would be solved forever. “Go lie down.” she nods at the ground.

 

Obediently, Tsukishima does as she says and lies down on the glossy hardwood floor. Luckily, it seems clean, but it’s not like that would have stopped him anyway. He watches intently as she jumps off of the washing machine and saunters up to his waist before stepping one leg over his body and crouching down to hover her core right above him. He can feel the heat of both their crotches already reaching out to each other, wanting to mix together, to touch indefinitely.

 

When she curls her fingers around his dick to straighten him up and aim herself right onto his head, Tsukishima feels his entire body sweat in anticipation, eyes glued to where their bodies are just barely touching. She hovers there and waits until Tsukishima’s eyes look up in confusion, with slight worry twinkling in them. But once their gazes meet, they stick, and she slowly and surely lowers herself down onto him, inch by agonizing inch.

 

Doing her best not to break their hot, sticky gaze, she bites her lip to keep from rolling her eyes back at the incredible, searing heat that travels between them. The feeling of Tsukishima inside of her is dizzying, because he just reaches so far back. She’s amazed that he can poke at an area so deep inside of her, in both concept and pleasure. And once she finally settles on top of his lap, sheathing Tsukishima to the hilt, she closes her eyes and breaks the tense gaze with a moan.

 

As she leans her head back, the long curtain of hair leaves a background frame to showcase her naked body in front of him, and Tsukishima feels like he’s forgotten how to breathe. It’s everything he’s been remembering, dreaming, and fantasizing about but so, so much better. Finally, she’s above him, taking him whole, allowing him to look up at her beautiful figure from his position lying down.

 

What’s different about it is that while he was usually comfortable lying down in his bed as he thought about her, he’s actually feeling quite tortured right now. He feels as if his entire being has been swallowed up by this beautiful girl and his body is reacting too fiercely for him to control, and his hands find their way to her hips before he’s even conscious of their movements.

 

But he’s weak enough to leave a gentle touch on her, simply resting his hands there because the rest of his strength has been sapped into keeping himself conscious. When she leans her weight into her knees to lift herself back up and off of him, Tsukishima doesn’t know if the effect does anything better or worse for his head, because the torture of having her body leave his is just as bad as having her engulf him. It’s a stalemate figuring out what makes him dizzier.

 

Even so, he can’t stop watching. Watching her swallow his length whole again and again, watching her expression change and her head tilt every which way as she moans with every descent, watching her hands reach over to rest above his to press his touch closer to her, and then watching as one of them slides up to knead one of her breasts while the other moves toward her center to rub at her clit.

 

Everything is so clear from this view below, every shift of muscle, every drop of sweat, every look of pleasure she makes, he can see it all. If anything, seeing every movement unfold before his eyes is just as incredible as feeling it. As she begins to adjust to his size and more comfortably increase her pace, Tsukishima begins moaning louder, wanting and needing more of her, wanting and needing her to hear him and understand what she does to him. “Please.” he whispers, finally putting some grit into his hold on her hips.

 

“Tsukishima-kun,” the beautiful girl who had only appeared in his dreams pants, “Move with me.”

 

“Yes.” he thinks he manages to grunt as an answer before tightening up his core, and moving his hips up to meet hers that come down.

 

The impact is unbelievable. Their synced moans almost drown out their memories of the incredible collision of hips. So much for the mirage of a gorgeous angel that was shining gently above him, this is raw, hot, unspeakable pleasure and they can’t keep their mouths closed.

 

“Shit!” Tsukishima cries louder than he has in any volleyball game. He feels dizzy with the distribution of heat in his body. His torso is cool with all the sweat coming out, but his face is steaming in sheer disbelief that he is even doing something like this. And down in his crotch, it’s as if every degree of heat in his dick is being trapped inside this astoundingly beautiful girl’s body.

 

“Ah! Yes! Oh. My gosh.” she only lets out small puffs of words, but her face says everything. Tsukishima can read the pleasure with every line stressing her face, every tooth that bites into her lip, every bead of sweat that forms on her nose. She’s enjoying this as much as he is, and she’s absolutely beautiful as she does so. More beautiful than any dream that Tsukishima has tried to create to poorly imitate the real thing.

 

She bounces on him in all kinds of angles, shifting her weight at this side and that, leaning over him with her hands mounted beside his shoulders, just grinding her hips into his. Every single movement is a new picture he wants to capture. If he could photograph every sensation he’s feeling right now, the world might run out of film. His own memory is pushing the limits of its capacity even now.

 

And yet, it’s all coming to an end all too quickly, “I-I’m going t-to come…” he manages to say between breaths.

 

“Okay,” the TA smiles, “How do you want to do it?” she asks, mounting off of him and taking him into her hand.

 

Tsukishima doesn’t answer because he doesn’t know how to. What does she even mean? But she helps him to his answer just like she helps him with his homework; with hints, “Like this?” she drags the tip down the middle of her chest in a line, spreading his precome down her body, “Or like this?” she swipes her tongue out to swirl around the head once before kissing it, “Or this?” she lets go of his cock to lean back and hold her weight on her elbows, as if displaying her body out like a canvas for him to paint on.

 

And he doesn’t know where he suddenly gets an artistic drive, but he’s up on his knees with his cock in his hand and jerking himself above her. He pants through several strokes until he comes all over his tutor’s chest and stomach, and watches carefully as the beads of white roll down her body like a thick white honey. “Mm, hot.” she muses, chuckling.

 

So many things hit him at once. The reality that he just had sex with his homeroom teacher’s assistant, the sound of the dog paddling around and occasionally barking behind the door, and the new world he’s discovered in looking at her from above. He had been so laser focused on getting her on top of him all this time, that when she was finally underneath him, he might as well have gotten completely hard again. Because she is just as beautiful on the floor beneath him as she is looking down at him.

 

That opens a whole new can of worms. He hasn’t managed to fix anything at all.

 

As he watches his TA get cleaned up with some paper towels, he doesn’t know where to go from here. But while he stands there, buried in his thoughts again, kind of wishing he was lying down again, her voice finds him, “Tsukishima-kun.”

 

He blinks before looking over at her, “Yes.”

 

“There’s still some time before our clothes are finished washing. Would you like to borrow some for now?”

 

“Oh… I… uh…” he can’t even speak. Great.

 

But all she does is chuckle, “Or maybe you’d like to go another round?”

 

“Er--!” She’s willing to have sex with him again? What should he say?? “Well, I-- That… uh…”

 

She seems to understand that she’ll have to take the lead again, so she walks up to him and runs a hand down his chest, “You don’t have to be shy, Tsukishima-kun. Like I said, I’m here to help you.” and then she starts rubbing at his stomach with her thumb in little circles, “All the help you need, as many times as you need it…”

 

Tsukishima sucks in a deep breath and blushes again before he finally says, “I’ll be in your care.”

 

They don’t remember to take the clothes out to put in the dryer until a couple hours later. And Tsukishima returns home at midnight, completely exhausted but in a freshly cleaned uniform.

Chapter 12: Sawamura Daichi - Daddy

Summary:

you're an environmental diplomat who's got great things ahead of you. but you also happen to have an adopted child. and his father has shown up to make a place for himself in your kid's life.

Notes:

*rises from the dead with goodie bags and a diploma in my hands* surprise bitch, bet you thought you'd seen the last of me.

honestly though, if you're still here and reading, THANK YOU SO CRAZY MUCH, I HAVE MISSED YOU. my last semester at uni was brutal, but i've finally escaped that place with a degree in my clutches. AND I'M BACK WITH A MESS OF PLOTS AND STORIES TO WRITE. i have had way too many piling up, but this one right here has been clutching to me like a koala ever since i found my inspiration for it.

if you're familiar with shokugeki no soma, this story is partially inspired by hayama and jun's backstory.

HOWEVER, some trigger warnings: this story explores absent parenthood, since it's about a child who has a guardian but his biological father shows up out of the blue wanting to be a part of his life. it's also pretty angsty at some points. i do not have any personal experience with this situation, and since this mainly serves the purpose of fiction (and sex with volleyball players), there are probably a lot of holes that aren't addressed in the story. but do know hat this is not an attempt to portray accurate depictions of those who may be in similar situations. if you feel like there is anything important that i should have mentioned/included, or a certain tag that i should use that i didn't, then please let me know!

also, this is pretty plot heavy... could probably compete with that semi chapter with this 21.5k and anticlimactic smut. reader-chan is a bit older than most of my adolescent premises in previous chapters, and so is sawamura, so i set up some established careers already. and i do admit to playing with my OC's developing intersectional identity with his parental figures for self-serving purposes. but all in all, i do like this story, so i hope you can enjoy it as well~

thanks for sticking around for my trashy ass and reading through this cacophony of an a/n. now go fall in love with sawamura if you haven't already.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

They say that those who are married to their work never have time for the people around them. Five years ago, you might have believed that and been okay with it. You've always wanted to carry on with your research and contribute to the world with your own skill, no matter the cost of time. You lost touch with a lot of friends that way, and after you got your master’s degree, you figured you'd be too lost in all of your incredible discoveries and world contributions to care about others anyway.

 

But that was five years ago. And just a few weeks closer to four years ago, you spontaneously encountered your new life’s passion and love. He came in the form of a curious young boy with a strange affinity to sea animals. You had crossed paths when you were visiting Akita harbor to rent a small boat to collect water samples out in the sea, and the boy was being scolded and pulled away from a loading area in order to save a sea lion that was trapped between the rocks of the port, and the large commercial boat that was parked there.

 

The daring little boy who could not have been more than six or seven years old was unlooping the knot anchoring one end of the boat to the port and using his own weight to push the bow of the boat to the side in order to free the little sea lion. It managed to escape, but the boy was reprimanded immediately by the crew members, and he might have been beaten silly for his loud mouth that was shouting at the sailors for treating the animals and the ocean so cruelly.

 

That’s when you had stepped in and told the sailors to drop the kid. They seemed surprised that you had come to his defense. “This brat is just a rat that scurries around the harbor all the time, miss. He ain’t got nothin’ else to do but play with his sea creature friends ‘cause he can’t make his own.” one of the sailors had smirked, prompting the kid to stick his tongue out at him.

 

Although you could see the validity in their accusations. The boy’s clothes probably haven’t been washed in a week, his shoes probably hurt his feet more than they protect them, his skin is incredibly tan from playing out in the sun and water all day, and he smells like the sea. It’s likely that he’s an orphan or maybe even homeless. But there’s a fire in his eyes that sets him apart from his ratty appearance.

 

“Ever since you jerks started trading here, there aren’t even sea creatures to play with because you won’t update your old timey boats and keep polluting the harbor! The pH level has been the worst it’s ever been in the past two years alone since you showed your ugly faces here!” the kid had shouted back.

 

You had never seen grownups try to up and attack a kid before, but there was a first time for everything. So you had to swoop in and bring yourself between them. But even in that short interaction, you could tell, you needed to take this kid with you. This young and he already knew about the ugly nature of trade and seaports and environmental science. And he was determined to save it, judging by his rash actions in rescuing the sea lion that could have gotten him into deep trouble. You could use a passionate soul like that around you in this dreary world that only seems to grow bleaker with rising temperatures and dying species.

 

And so from that day forward, the boy who you had come to know as Daiki -- who also took up your surname -- has followed you around the world as you continued your environmental research. He receives most of his homeschooling from you, and he gains new mentors and tutors in every new place that he travels to with you. As an environmental education officer, you’ve had many connections to other educators and learning opportunities for Daiki, and he’s always learned and taken in everything around him with excitement and vigor.

 

Daiki is 11 now, and he probably knows far more about the world than an average high schooler or maybe even college student might understand. After having lived the first several years of his life in poverty and longing for adventure, he has loved traveling alongside you and sharing the world with you as your student, apprentice, and best friend. Although he addresses you by your name, he’s practically your son and you couldn’t see loving anyone more than him in this world. You would do anything for him and you want the best for him, which is why you decided to have him enroll into a regular middle school once he’s of age.

 

Daiki wasn’t very fond of the idea.

 

“Why do we have to stay in Japan? You still have an entire itinerary of people to see and places to go to educate people! Why should we stay holed up in one place when the world is being destroyed??” He’s always been very adamant about spreading awareness about the environment through your work.

 

“Daiki, I love your fervor and dedication, and I’m sure it’s always going to be there in your heart. But what’s not always going to be there is your youth. I want you to experience the life of community, of being around others and having friends you don’t have to say goodbye to after a few months. I’m still going to be able to teach others about what’s going on in the world, but I’m not always going to get the chance to see you grow up.” you card your fingers through his hair, giving the boy a tender look, “I know you’re excited to make a difference in the world, but there’s nothing wrong with taking a breath and having fun along the way, okay? You won’t ever get your youth back once you’ve grown up, and I don’t want to take it away from you.”

 

“But I want to go around the world helping people like you do!” he pouts.

 

“Well you have plenty of time to do that later. Right now, I want you to just enjoy your time as a kid while you still can. Make some friends, mess around, eat some junk, find love.” he rolls his eyes as you elbow him teasingly, “And if anything, you can tell everyone all about your travels and what you’ve learned and teach them to care about what you care about. Don’t be too pompous though, then you’ll just look like a snob.” you warn, poking his nose.

 

“Whatever.” he groans, turning away. “Fine, I’ll go to middle school here. But if I don’t like it, promise me that I can go wherever I want for high school.” he holds his pinky out.

 

You smile, wrapping his pinky finger in your own, touching your thumbs together before shaking on it, “You got it, little man.”

 

The first few weeks are a bit of a challenge for Daiki, since he’s not used to sitting in a class full of other kids his age all day, and following a set schedule, or just following monotonous routines and rules that he’s never had to deal with before. He talks about how bored he gets about some subjects because he’s already learned a lot of the material already, so he had to be transferred into a second year class to better match his learning pace and level of difficulty. But slowly, he seems to open up to the kids around him, and although you can’t tell if he likes school yet, he seems to tolerate it at least.

 

Things are weird for you two. Ever since you graduated with your bachelor’s, you’ve never really followed much of a routine for too long. You were always doing one after another in sequence. One internship following another, and one research project led to another, and you finally settled into your environmental education program as a traveling officer with all the insight you gained in your volunteering and work experiences.

 

Your life has always revolved around your work, and Daiki has been the only additional facet to it. So settling into this routine of staying in one place, working for a local government employed environmental agency, is something new for you. But you and Daiki settle into the routine somehow, staying busy even without all the country hopping. You feel regret for not being able to come home earlier to prepare dinner, since it’s almost always ready for you when you get home because Daiki has cooked it already. But you still make sure to do your part to ensure Daiki gets a good sense of how people should live together with equal responsibility.

 

All of the routine starts to settle in comfortably. Until one night in the middle of Daiki’s first term, you come home to one more person in the apartment. “I’m home.” you announce as you slip off your shoes and walk into the apartment, where you find a grown man in a clean business suit sitting on the sofa. “Hello.” you stare.

 

“Pardon the intrusion,” he stands and bows. His voice is deep and rich, and resonates into the very depths of your chest. Maybe even deeper. “My name is Sawamura Daichi.”

 

“Nice to meet you, Sawamura-san.” you take his hand to shake. It’s as firm as his stance, and as strong as his expression. Gentle but charismatic. He seems like a natural leader.

 

Daiki pops up from the kitchen with a spatula in his hand and an apron around his front, “[Name]-san, we’re eating in ten minutes. Sawamura-san said he would stay for dinner.”

 

“That’s fine by me. But…” you turn your gaze back to the charismatic businessman in your home, “May I ask who you are and why you’ve come to visit our home, Sawamura-san?”

 

“Actually, I would like to talk to you in private about that. But perhaps after we eat? I promise I’ll explain everything, but it’s quite a long story, and I don’t want to wear you out before you’ve had your fill.” he smiles. It’s a comforting, yet dazzling smile.

 

“Alright, I suppose.” you shrug, moving to set the table for three for the first time in a while.

 

Dinner is a polite affair, albeit a delicious one. There’s smoked salmon of a super high quality that apparently Sawamura brought over, and he even brought a tub of ice cream for you to keep in the freezer even if you don’t finish all of it tonight. You learn that Sawamura Daichi is a manager in one of the financial departments at a broadcasting company in Tokyo. He’s originally from a small town in the Miyagi Prefecture, gets his muscular physique from a lifetime of playing volleyball, and although he’s 31 years old, he has yet to settle down with anyone or start a family.

 

Despite his age, mature personality, and stature, there’s something about the glow in his face that makes him look younger. It reminds you of Daiki whenever he’s talking passionately about a new fact he learned about a certain animal he likes, or ideas he has about improving research or environmental preservation. Come to think of it, Sawamura and Daiki have a similar look, with the dark hair, deep, sincere eyes, and somewhat tan skin complexion. You wonder if maybe Daiki joined a sports club or started working out more, he would grow up to be as strong and built as Sawamura.

 

Sawamura makes plenty of conversation with you and Daiki as well, and you speak kindly to him like you would any new stranger you meet at a conference or an event or social gathering. The context is different, but you and Daiki know how to play your parts.

 

After finishing dinner, Daiki takes up your usual job of washing the dishes so that you and Sawamura can have your private conversation. Apparently it’s extremely private because you have to bring him into your bedroom in order to have a closed door between you and Daiki.

 

As Sawamura takes a seat in the chair at your desk, you can’t help but notice how the dress shirt stretches across his chest the same way his slacks seem to squeal at the expanse of his thighs. The clothes are not too small by any means, but the way they fit on him really showcases his impressive physique with the way the fabric stretches across his body as he sits down.

 

Quickly looking down, you take a seat across from him on your own bed, “So, Sawamura-san, may I have the pleasure of knowing the reason why you came here bearing gifts to join us for dinner?”

 

It’s kind of strange seeing such a charismatic man hesitate and look shy, but he finally says, “Well, there’s no easy way to say this. So… here.” he hands you a few paper documents.

 

Birth Certificate

 

This certifies that Serinuma Daiki was born to Serinuma Kaede and Sawamura Daichi on February 12, 2015 at 8:31 A.M. at Sendai Central Hospital.

 

Weight - 4.1 kilograms, Length - 54 centimeters.

 

 

You read it over twice, thrice, just to make sure you didn't miss a single letter. You flip through the other documents hurriedly to scan the fingerprints, the ultrasounds, the adoption submission papers. Every piece of evidence weighs heavier on your heart than the previous, and you don't know how you can possibly react.

 

The only reason Sawamura would bring all of this evidence here and be so kind would be that he's interested in Daiki. After 11 years of Daiki’s life, his father shows up with some intrusive intention. You have no intention to allow Daiki to be taken by a total stranger, but you might as well figure out what he wants.

 

“What is your intention in bringing all of this here, Sawamura-san?” you ask in level voice, putting on your most expressionless face.

 

“Well, as you can see…” Sawamura rubs the back of his head nervously, and you want to slap yourself for focusing on how the motion pulls his sleeve tighter against his triceps, “I'm… Daiki-kun’s biological father. And… I hadn't known for a long time that I had a son, but now that I've managed to find him, I'd… like to be a part of his life. Somehow, in some way.”

 

“What do you mean you haven't known for a long time?” you resist your urge to narrow your eyes at him.

 

“Uhm… yes, well. This is quite a complex and long story, but I'll explain it to the best of my ability.” he clears his throat dramatically, “I believe I was in my junior year of college when I got involved with a girl named Serinuma Kaede. Apparently, at the time, she was switching contraceptive methods, but her new one had not yet taken effect when we fooled around. We were not together for a very long time, but of course we did something that led to her keeping a secret from me for quite some time. It's only when I find her about six years after graduating university that I meet her again. And she lets slip that she had actually kept the child and had him secretly before giving him up for adoption.

 

“I felt a lot of regret and guilt and sadness for finding out so much later, at not being able to support her when she was pregnant, or offer my help as an alternative to adoption or anything that I could have done if I had known….” Sawamura’s eyes are full of anguish, so you don't doubt the sincerity in his story at this small display of weakness from him.

 

“Well, to make a long story short, Daiki-kun’s biological mother has her own life and family now, and she had only let slip to me that she had Daiki-kun on her own about 3 years ago. I've been searching for him for a while, but since you seem to travel a lot for work, it was more difficult for me to track you down. You don't know how grateful I was when I found out you had settled in Chiba for the time being.” he sucks in a shaky breath before looking back up at you, “I know that you two are probably settled in each other’s lives, and I have absolutely no intention of taking that away from either of you, but I’m hoping that… there might still be room in Daiki-kun’s life for his father.”

 

You stare back at him for a long moment, almost scrutinizing him, and Sawamura’s collar seems to grow tighter around his neck as he fidgets with it. Finally, you say, “Why didn’t you try to contact me beforehand about this?”

 

“I tried to, believe me.” he sits up, “But I never managed to get through to you. I might have outdated contact information or something. But I do believe that it is a better idea to talk about this in person rather than have it relayed in an email or phone call.”

 

“That’s reasonable.” you nod, crossing your legs and reading over the birth certificate again. Daiki’s biological parents, huh? After some more thought, you let out a breath through your nose, “I don’t know how he’s going to react to this news. He just started going to a new school and is still learning his way around this new routine. Of course he’s incredibly intelligent and mature, but it’ll be a little much to spring this on him in the middle of the new semester, won’t it?”

 

“I agree that the timing is not ideal,” Sawamura nods, “But I do not wish to hold this off any longer than I have had to. Every minute I avoid the truth is another minute I might lose getting to know Daiki-kun.”

 

The bright, burning look in Sawamura’s eyes is so incredibly familiar to you. You recognized the same look in Daiki when you had first met him. And if these two share their passionate personalities, there is no stopping them from anything. “Alright, I suppose we should go talk to Daiki about this then, shouldn’t we?”

 

“Really?” his posture and eyes light up.

 

“Well I do think he needs a proper introduction. It’s entirely up to him whether or not you’ll be invited into his life, although I do appreciate you coming to me about this first.” you stand from the bed, and Sawamura follows your lead.

 

“Yes, of course. Thank you so much for giving me this chance.” he bows to you.

 

“Don’t thank me yet.” you walk to the door, “Like I said, it’s up to Daiki himself. He’s an intelligent kid, but he isn’t always as level-headed as you seem to be, Sawamura-san. I’ll encourage him to take his time with thinking, of course, but Daiki makes his own decisions.”

 

“Yes, absolutely. I completely agree.” he follows you when you open the door and leave the bedroom to walk back into the living room.

 

“Daiki, you done?” you call.

 

“Yes. I made some tea.” he brings the tea set over to the living room, pouring a cup for each of them. You ruffle the boy’s head with a tender smile, and he complains harmlessly before fixing his hair.

 

You take your cup and announce, “Daiki, Sawamura-san has something important he wants to tell you. I want you to think long and hard about it when he tells you, alright?”

 

Daiki looks confused but he nods anyway. “Okay, then I’ll leave you two alone to talk it out.” you take your cup of tea with you into your bedroom. As much as you want to be there to provide Daiki with support with an announcement as big as this, you’ve always encouraged him to be strong and firm on his own. You know he’s perfectly capable of making a decision on his own, and you don’t want him to feel swayed by your own thoughts or feelings about the situation before he acts on his own.

 

About half an hour later, when you’re staring at the spreadsheet for one of the upcoming events you’re organizing but not really doing any real work because you’re just so distracted, Daiki knocks on your door and enters your room. You turn in your chair and face him as he hugs his knees to his chest on your bed. You wait a few moments before asking, “So, how’d it go?”

 

“Sawamura-san is going to come back for dinner on the weekend. I told him I’d tell him my decision by then.” Daiki mumbles into his knees.

 

“That’s generous of you.” you smile, wanting to jump and hug him for being so sensible and level-headed. Although it feels kind of unsettling to have an 11-year-old be able to make such considerate decisions, you’re as proud of him as you are sorry for making him grow up so fast.

 

“[Name]-san, this is weird.” he sighs, turning to rest his cheek on his knee.

 

“Why’s that?”

 

“Well, I’ve always known that my parents didn’t want me, which is why I was put in the orphanage. I always wondered why they had me if they didn’t want me, but I thought I had put that all behind me when you took me in.” he pauses thoughtfully, “And now all of a sudden, my supposed father comes in and says he actually does want me, he just didn’t know I existed. How does a situation like that even come about?”

 

When he doesn’t continue, you suppose he’s offering you an opportunity to jump in, “Well, he and the girl were young, and she probably didn’t know any better. She might’ve thought that her birth control was in effect, and she couldn’t bring herself to tell Sawamura-san that she was mistaken and had to bring this entirely new responsibility into their lives. Having a child is a big deal, Daiki. And raising one is an even bigger one. You might not be able to do it if you don’t have the support of everyone around you.”

 

“Well then why did my mother have me? She could’ve just gotten rid of me!”

 

“Oh Daiki, don’t say that.” you walk over to the bed and hug him to your side, “You know as well as I do that we’re all glad that you were born. There’s not another like you in this world and I’m so happy I get to have someone as bright as you in my life.”

 

“Well you are. Guess I can’t say the same about my biological mother.” he grumbles, “She gave me away and now she has a whole new family of her own, according to Sawamura-san. Did she not care about me at all? If you hadn’t taken me in, then I would still probably be wandering around in the streets without a parent or goal in my life.”

 

“Both of those statements are untrue.” you pull him tighter to you until he drops his legs down over the edge of the bed and rests his head on your shoulder, “Sawamura-san must have told you that he’s been searching for you for quite some time now. If might have been because I dragged you around with me that he wasn’t able to get in contact with you sooner.”

 

“But that’s not your fault!”

 

“Maybe not. It’s a complex situation. But what you said about not having a goal if you didn’t have a parental figure in your life, I don’t believe that one bit. You are the brightest and more passionate kid I know. If I didn’t believe, I wouldn’t have brought you with me all those years ago at Akita Harbor. I knew you had potential to do amazing things, so I wanted to nurse you and provide you with every opportunity available so you could reach that potential. But even without me, you would’ve found a way.”

 

“You don’t know that.” he mumbles into your shoulder, “I could’ve taken the wrong path.”

 

“Who knows?” your voice softens as you rub his arm, “But let’s not think about the what-ifs. Right now, you’ve got a fairly decent man who wants to be your father knocking at your door. If you want to learn more about him and maybe about yourself, then I would suggest opening it. If you’re completely fine with how things are, even now with this new information in your life, you’re also free to turn away.”

 

Daiki stays silent for a bit, “What would you do?”

 

“Well, I’ve always been incredibly curious about anything and everything, so I’d like to say I’d open that door. If my biological father has been looking for me all this time and finally found me and told me he wants to be part of my life, I’d take that into consideration.” you explain, “But I’m me. And you’re you. I can’t make your decisions for you, and you shouldn’t make your decisions based on what you think I would do. Do what you think is best for yourself, Daiki. And however you want to take Sawamura-san’s offer, I’ll be on your side.”

 

He spends the rest of the evening in thoughtful silence, hugging your torso with his face buried in your shoulder. You tuck him into your bed when he falls asleep, sighing as you brush some hair away from his forehead. As you picture Sawamura’s face in your head, you can see clear depictions of him in Daiki’s face. And you begin to wonder how much Daiki will start to resemble his father if he spends more time with him.

 

 

*

 

 

The Saturday that Sawamura returns for dinner, Daiki is cutting up and passing out slices of the roast that you made when he announces that he would be willing to see Sawamura here again next week. Sawamura seemed like he was about to jump out of his seat, his smile was so big. You couldn’t help smiling to yourself at such a happy reaction, as well as how proud you are of Daiki for giving his father a chance to become a part of his life.

 

So it goes for the next several weeks, Sawamura travels from the inner city of Tokyo out to Chiba where you two live for dinner about twice a week, and you and Daiki travel into the city to visit Sawamura’s apartment once a week or so whenever you have errands to run in the city. Sawamura lives in a clean, roomy space that matches his responsible yet passionate personality.

 

There are photos of his old volleyball teams, college friends, family, and even certain projects he’s led where he’s shaking hands with important individuals placed on the walls and shelves. His bookshelves have an impressive spectrum of subjects ranging from economics, to cooking, to manga. The only thing that could be considered messy about his home is the stacks of papers and files he has to bring home from work that he keeps tucked in his bedroom when you and Daiki are over.

 

Sawamura has proven himself to be a man who contributes a lot, offering money, rides, advice, and invitations to hang out every so often in a new setting. In the past two months, Daiki has gone to an amusement park, several museums, and even one of Sawamura’s volleyball games with a local community association. You had joined them for some of these little family dates, and admittedly, your favorite one so far has to be the volleyball game where Sawamura had been bending down a lot to catch receives. His thighs were even more impressive than his torso.

 

Slowly, but surely, Sawamura has carved a place for himself into Daiki’s life, and through Daiki’s life, yours as well. You message each other frequently, make plans with each other about new things to show Daiki (which can be difficult since he’s traveled and experienced so much already), and cheer like crazy for him and his class at his school’s sports festival before the summer vacation starts.

 

Having always been on the go, you had always kept work and play balanced within the same time frame throughout the year. So now that Daiki has a long set period of time for vacation, you have to work around his and your schedule so that you can take him somewhere new and cater to your work at the same time.

 

Eventually, you decide to hold a conference in Amsterdam, which will leave you and Daiki room to meet some old friends and acquaintances, as well as travel through a small section of Europe in the time you have. When you let Daiki know the plan, he surprises you by asking, “Is Sawamura-san coming too?”

 

You blink in surprise at him, wondering how you hadn’t considered that thought yourself, before smiling at him and handing over your phone, “Why don’t you call him and ask if he can?”

 

The smile that spreads across Daiki’s face when he takes the phone warms your heart. However, you find out that Sawamura is unable to leave the country for an extended period of time due to his work, so he can’t accompany you on your trip to the Netherlands. But he promises to plan a small summer trip for all three of you to go together later on when you return.

 

Despite the clear disappointment on Daiki’s face, he’s encouraged by the prospect of being able to hang out again with Sawamura longer. “You’ve really grown to like him, haven’t you?” you smile.

 

“Well, he’s a cool guy.” Daiki shrugs, but he doesn’t stop talking about Sawamura and what they talk about and do together when you ask. You’ve noticed the spark of childlike wonder that’s grown in Daiki these past few months. It’s like his time with his father has been restoring the youth in this young child who has grown up too quickly, and you immensely appreciate it.

 

You appreciate it, but at the same time, you’ve been starting to feel this strange nagging sensation in the back of your mind, some small insecurity that feeds on the irrational idea that Daiki might be becoming more distant from you. Which is totally unreasonable, because you’ve fed, clothed, cared for, taught, and nurtured this bright, young soul for years. He still treats you the same way and his passion for knowledge and environmental change hasn’t changed.

 

But, sometimes, you wonder if those small details are a sign of something. Like how Daiki occasionally forgets to ask you about your day after he’s told you about his, or how more of the conversation steers towards what he encountered with Sawamura or what he’s looking forward to doing with Sawamura next, or how his interests are expanding towards new hobbies that Sawamura encouraged him to try out that he had never been interested in trying before. You understand that at this age, it’s completely natural for Daiki to be a little self-centered, especially when he’s only just started getting to know his father, but that small tug at the back of your mind keeps you wondering about whether Daiki might be starting to overlook you.

 

There’s a small urge within you to tell Daiki about it, to communicate your feelings properly to him because you’ve always taught him to be open in any relationship, but you write it off as insecurity and lack of attention. So what if Daiki needs to reserve some of his time for someone else now? That’s completely reasonable for him to want to have fun with Sawamura and you don’t need to give him the idea that you want him to pay more attention to you. He’s a child, and he should be able to live a little. And you’ll have all the time in the world to be alone with him again like old times when you’re traveling the Netherlands during the summer.

 

 

 

 

Those several weeks are great. You visit a lot of beautiful places, meet old friends, eat plenty of food that you’ve missed from Europe, and have a lot of fun conversation. Daiki was even excited to attend the conference and see you speak again after working behind a desk for so long these past few months. “You seem a lot more at home on that stage, talking and connecting to people. I don’t know why you thought moving to Japan to just plan events behind your computer was a good idea.” he had mentioned one night in the room you shared.

 

“I did it so I could give you an opportunity to live like a regular teenager.” you give him a pointed by playful look, “And now look at you, finally going out with friends, joining clubs, having fun and enjoying your youth. I am completely satisfied with this turnout. Besides, staying in one place gives me more chances to work on my own research. I’m not just doing nothing, you know.”

 

“You mean your food regulation proposals for corporations? Those should’ve been passed ages ago.” Daiki gives an exasperated sigh, “You should just run for a government position yourself and implement them yourself.”

 

You laugh at how Daiki makes it sound so easy, and you’re tempted to follow his suggestion just because he said it. “Maybe one day. But I still need to tweak these a little in order to make them more appealing to money grubbers. And I also want to be there to watch you grow up.” you ruffle Daiki’s hair, “Who knows how much time I'll have in the future if I take on bigger projects like that?”

 

Suddenly Daiki’s eyes flash with something that looks like guilt, “But… you have so many ideas, so much to share with the world. Wouldn't I just be holding you back?”

 

“What?” Now your eyes must be filled with shock and something that might edge towards horror, “Daiki,” you harden your voice, “Never, ever think that you're holding me back from anything. You're the one who pushes me forward, inspires me to educate others. You remind me every day of the potential any other kid or person might have to do great things, and I love seeing that fire in you. Okay?” you pull him in for a hug, and he groans a bit. He's starting to get a little old for all this pep talk and affection, and Sawamura’s restricted manliness might also be rubbing off on him, but he mumbles an “okay…” anyway.

 

 

*

 

 

Just two days before you're going to fly back to Tokyo, one of the lead coordinators for Amsterdam’s biggest environmental protection agency tells you that someone who attended the conference and talked to you was interested in helping forward your research for agricultural regulations and food redistribution. Apparently, they’re another alumnus from Tsukuba’s Environmental Diplomatic Leadership Program whose thesis catered to an interest in environmental policy. With that connection and the overlapping research interests, they want to work with you on writing up new proposals for food business regulation and agriculture through Amsterdam’s research facilities and databases.

 

You're at a complete loss of words and you feel like you'd float off into the sky as a spirit if you turned this offer down. It's an incredible opportunity to work on your own individual research with others to improve on and expand your projects. But the problem is that you would have to stay for the remainder of the summer, at the very least, to be able to do all of this. You went through all the possible options with the lead coordinator, but she said that there wouldn't be a way for you to access all of the information properly outside of the Amsterdam headquarters.

 

When you return to the hotel that evening, Daiki notices the solemn air about you. You lie in bed as if you’re going to sleep, but you have your thinking face on as if your mind will be clouded for the next several hours before you can lose consciousness. So he sits on your bed before saying, “You know, you told me once to grab an opportunity whenever I saw it. This offer is probably the best you're going to get to start putting all your research into action, so if you're contemplating rejecting it because of me, then that makes everything you've said to me meaningless. And I would never forgive you or myself for having let you allow this opportunity to slip away.”

 

You just sit up and stare at this mature adult stuck in an 11-year-old body. But eventually, you pull him in for a hug, “I love you so much, Daiki.” you sigh, “No one has ever pushed me to my limits the way you do.”

 

“Okay.” he replies simply.

 

You keep him in your arms and hold back the strange stinging feeling that's building behind your eyes, “Will you be okay with living with Sawamura-san for a little while?”

 

The way Daiki lights up and pulls away to show you his ecstatic, hopeful expression tugs at your heart, filling you with joy and sadness at the same time. “Really?!” he pants.

 

You can only smile and nod slowly before picking up the phone to give the man a call.

 

 

*

 

 

You finally return to Chiba several months later, about two weeks into the start of Daiki’s new school term after summer vacation. He had stayed with Sawamura the entire time after you sent him off on an international flight by himself for the first time. Sawamura and Daiki messaged you every day about how things were going, and you did the same when you weren't too busy or tired. You even managed a video call once or twice. As you were in constant contact with them as the summer progressed, you didn't expect much change in Daiki when you came back.

 

So when you enter your apartment to see a boy taller, tanner, and brighter than the one you knew, you almost turn back in fear of having walked into the wrong home. But Sawamura’s presence is unmistakable, and when Daiki runs up to throw his arms around you in a hug, you know there is no mistake.

 

“Daiki, what the heck is going on?” you hold him by the shoulders to assess his new, leaner body, his tanner complexion, his brighter, yet calmer eyes. He looks so much more like Sawamura now. To any stranger, it would be clear that they're father and son. “How could you have grown this much without me here to see?”

 

“I've been playing sports more with dad’s friends’ kids. They've been teaching me a lot about volleyball especially. Apparently I'm a good receiver.”

 

You try not to reel in surprise from Daiki’s new term of address for Sawamura. He's already calling him dad? All after just one summer? The man must have been done him well. And judging by the animated, and almost childish excitement in Daiki’s voice as he recounts his summer adventures to you over dinner, you can see the positive effect Sawamura’s presence has created. It's as if Daiki’s youth has been restored and he's finally acting his age, and enjoying himself in ways that only an adolescent can and should.

 

Amidst all this positive young energy, you feel a nagging sense of resentment for not having been able to do something like this for Daiki yourself. Maybe Sawamura is more experienced with kids, or maybe they can share things together as men that you can't share as properly with Daiki, or maybe you hadn't been raising Daiki right from the start. You were trained to be a researcher and educational diplomat after all, not a parent.

 

But even so, despite knowing how childish and unreasonable your unbacked assumptions are, you feel a twang of envy as you see Sawamura and how he speaks so easily to Daiki after just a few months with him. And how Daiki responds so enthusiastically back, calling him “dad” on top of all of that. Who can imagine how close they may become in the next several months or years? And although you've been raising Daiki for years now, you doubt that you can get any closer with the child. Would Sawamura somehow surpass you in that sense someday? The prospect of it makes you uncomfortable and disgruntled.

 

“[Name]-san?” Daiki calls your name. You realize that instead of smiling affectionately at Daiki as he babbled on, you’ve migrated your thoughtful gaze over to Sawamura. “Come on, let’s go eat! I’ll tell you more there.”

 

Sometimes you can’t tell if Daiki is just really good at reading the situation and offering you an escape right when you need it, or if he’s oblivious to how good his own timing is. And now with a childish bounce in his step, it’s even more difficult to tell the difference. You appreciate it nonetheless as you smile and nod to Sawamura as he gestures for you to walk to the table first.

 

Dinner is full of exuberant storytelling, rambunctious laughter, and just a bright atmosphere that you don’t recall ever having with just the two of you. A lot of it comes from how comfortably Daiki and Sawamura banter together. They’re both quite witty, something you never would have expected from Sawamura at first glance.

 

The surprises keep coming as Daiki brings out a homemade cake that he and Sawamura baked and decorated together. “Are you joking right now?” you laugh, “You can bake too?”

 

“Only cakes.” he shrugs with a sheepish smile, “It’s a habit I picked up from an old girlfriend who would always make her own cakes for friends’ birthdays. We would make them together and I picked up on the recipes. But that’s as far as my baked goods go.”

 

“Dad whipped the cream on his own and everything though!” Daiki chimes in, “It was incredible. I’m pretty sure he was on par with the mixer machine with how fast he whipped it.”

 

“Wow~” you coo, following Daiki’s praise, “Guess those strong arms aren’t just for receiving volleyballs, huh?”

 

You almost bite your tongue after you say it, because that could have been taken the wrong way. But Sawamura just laughs and waves the compliments away and changes the subject to cutting the cake. Thank goodness. It allows you to stew in your own self-deprecating thoughts of how Sawamura could probably take up both the daddy and mommy roles on his own.

 

Until you absentmindedly plop a dollop of cream on Daiki’s nose. When he sees your innocent, demure smile as you lean your head on your hand, he retaliates immediately with his own handful of frosted cake. Sawamura tries to break it up, but all three of you just end up a complete mess of chocolate and vanilla cream. You can’t remember the last time you laughed so hard that your lungs felt like they would deflate on you.

 

You and Sawamura clean the mess up as Daiki showers, since he got the brunt of the cake smashed into his face. It was unfortunate that you didn’t get to taste the cake in its intended form, but it was well worth the satisfaction at the moment.

 

As you finish wiping up the table and counters, you bring the towel back over to the sink where Sawamura is doing the dishes. “I can take that.” he takes the towel from you.

 

“Thank you.” you say, before pausing and leaning heavily against the counter beside Sawamura. You cross your arms across your chest, mulling over your insecure feelings about Daiki but pushing yourself to be better than that. So with a sigh you say, “Thank you, Sawamura-san. For everything.”

 

He briefly looks up at you before smiling and turning back to the dishes, “You mean about Daiki this summer? He’s a fine young man already, thanks to you. I’m just doing what I can.”

 

“No, it’s not just me.” Sawamura freezes for the briefest of moments before returning to his washing motions again, but you continue as if you haven’t noticed, “I haven’t ever seen Daiki act so energetic, and young, and… his age. And the whole reason we settled back in Tokyo was so he could do just that. But until you came, he was still hell-bent on getting a head-start on his career. So thank you, for doing whatever it was that I couldn’t that allowed Daiki to enjoy his childhood more.”

 

Sawamura places that last few dishes he had cleaned onto the drying rack before drying his own hands. You notice that he washes dishes without gloves, and you can’t help but feel a twinge in the back of your head at the sheer manliness that he embodies. He turns to you to say, “There is absolutely nothing wrong with how you have raised Daiki up to now.” he says with unrelenting eyes, as if he’s trying to prove something to you, “With or without me, Daiki would have grown up just as happy before he became an even more incredible individual because you’re by his side. I’m endlessly grateful to be able to be a part of his life now, but I will never take for granted the effort and care you’ve put into raising him. So please give yourself more credit, because it’s clearly overdue.”

 

You don’t know why, but his smile makes you smile. Not out of obligation, but simply because it’s a bit contagious. He has the perfect father vibe, and you can tell why Daiki has changed even over this short period of time. He has someone else to look up to now, someone to give him a new perspective, open his world to new options and happiness. Sawamura is a good thing in his life, so in turn, he’s a good thing in yours as well.

 

“And speaking of these that are overdue,” he adds, grabbing your attention again, “Please just call me Daichi.”

 

 

*

 

 

The months roll by, and Daiki seems to finally have settled into Tokyo as his home. He’s joined the environmental science club at his school, he plays volleyball on the weekends with friends, and has pretty much split his time evenly between your apartment in Chiba and Sawamura’s apartment in one of the smaller districts in Tokyo. He’s brighter and younger than you’ve ever seen him every day, and you wouldn’t trade his happiness for the world.

 

On the other hand, while Daiki has gotten more settled in, you’re all over the place after that research collaboration in Amsterdam. You’ve been exchanging as much information as possible, but even with picking up calls and messages at the oddliest hours of the day or night, you’ve had to fly back and forth between different countries several times within Daiki’s last term before school ended. Your trip even got extended once or twice because you were asked to lead a panel or talk since you were already in the area, and you couldn’t get out of it.

 

And so with you bouncing around the hemisphere half the time, Daiki has spent more of that time living with Sawamura, which has given you more time to stew in your own self-disparaging thoughts. Your irrational fear of Daiki getting farther away from you by growing closer to Sawamura seems to slowly become feasible.

 

The nights when you’re both home and eating together, Daiki almost always forgets to ask you about your day because he’s so animated with his own storytelling. Which is not a bad thing because he has so many things he’s doing, therefore much to say, but his ego has grown a bit more like an adolescent than you had expected.

 

He’s always excited to talk about how he’s improved with volleyball, or brag about something new that he learned with his father. You wonder if he ever talks this much about you to his friends or father, but your doubt in that grows stronger as you and Daiki seem to do and say less to each other with how busy you both become.

 

The end of the year finals are coming, and although he’s pretty bright, he’s taken up the role of tutoring all of his friends and classmates who want to join. Occasionally, he comes to you for help, but he’s always been the type to enjoy solving a challenge on his own. And although winter has hit a large part of the world, work never ceases for you. More and more of Tsukuba’s EDL alumni are hopping aboard your policy changing project, and spreading its ideas and influence across their different circles. And it’s gaining speed, with several city governments in Europe and Japan agreeing to adopt the food redistribution plan in some form.

 

Despite how your plans and work is taking off just like you had hoped it would ever since you graduated high school, your heart feels emptier by the day. All you can think about is a family photo of Daiki and you not being able to be a part of it. Your irrational fears of Daiki forgetting you altogether grow and spread within you like a cancerous disease because you’re not in his life enough, or because Sawamura is there for him whenever you should be, and he’s taken up your role for you.

 

And this fear of Daiki starting to love Sawamura more than you manifests itself into something else illogical and senseless as you begin to feel dislike for Sawamura. As you picture his handsome face or his well-developed body, you want to claw and shred at the mental image. You want to hate Sawamura for doing everything that you can’t and being everything that you can’t be. The even more dangerous image of Daiki and Sawamura enjoying themselves on a regular night or chatting in a bathhouse or bantering in that casual way that they do without you forms hot tears in your eyes.

 

Drowning yourself in your work only numbs you for a little while until you crash in exhaustion, and you’re left to float in your pitiful thoughts until you fall asleep. And if the images in your head aren’t bad enough, they become even clearer to you whenever you return to Chiba and find an empty apartment. Or when Daiki picks up your call only to let you know that he’s staying over at a friend’s house or at Sawamura’s place.

 

Whenever you do see Daiki, he resembles Sawamura more and more each day. The perfect intelligent, attractive, and healthy young man that he is and probably wouldn’t be if it were just you who had been raising him. But you start to wonder if you really are raising him anymore when you only see each other a few hours a week? Daiki has always been self-sufficient, but now he even has the sense to leave something for you to eat whenever you get home.

 

As much as you want to hate him, or hate Sawamura, or hate yourself, you know that there’s really no rational outlet that deserves all the negativity that you create for yourself out of the situation. You probably hadn’t even been this down when your first long-term boyfriend broke your heart. You had known back then that your emotions could be volatile, so you had silently sworn to yourself that you would focus only on you and your career until you had control of everything.

 

But then Daiki came in and stole your heart with his spitfire passion for marine life and his beautiful seven-year-old eyes. After all these years of nurturing him, he’s found someone else to call ‘dad’ more comfortably, and you can’t blame anyone, not even yourself, for not being able to do or be everything. You know it’s illogical to be skilled at everything, and from the very start you had not planned to be a parent, but you still can’t push away the sadness and anger and betrayal that has slowly built in your heart up until now.

 

And before you know it, it’s summer again. And Sawamura has invited Daiki and you to Okinawa for a long weekend vacation. “It was Daiki’s idea actually. He says that it’s been too long since you two have spent quality time together, and it’s only going to get crazier as the high school examinations come around, so he suggested we take our time off while we can. Although I don’t really know why he suggested I come as well if he wanted to spend his time with you.” Sawamura chuckles.

 

Probably because he wouldn’t consider it a family trip without you, you think to yourself, but smile anyway and thank Sawamura for organizing the trip.

 

The first day consists of a jumpy plane ride, playing around in the hotel, and exploring the island on a rented car before settling down to eat dinner at a place that Sawamura’s friend recommended. So far, the day had been a refreshing break from all the work and stress from being away from Daiki, and the boy himself was actually making equal conversation with you like he used to. He even sounds excited to hear about all the new developments in the food redistribution policy project, and how you’re gaining more people and countries on your side.

 

Since it’s his third year in middle school, Daiki’s main concerns (or more like his friends’ concerns) are high school entrance exams. “Did you have one you wanted to go to in particular?” you ask, slicing up your smoked salmon. It really is to die for.

 

“Actually, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about.” he looks anxious, almost nervous. He usually only got that look when he was younger and he knew he did something that was going to get him in trouble.

 

“Daiki, you don’t have to ask about it now. We’re on vacation.” Sawamura says.

 

“But I’ve been thinking about it a lot, and I want to ask now.” Daiki says before turning to you again, “I really want to go to Tokyo Tech for high school.”

 

“Tokyo Tech? Hmm, that’s an impressive goal. I think you could do it.” you smile, trying to hide the familiar sense of pride swelling in your chest. There’s no way that Daiki wouldn’t be able to get into Tokyo Tech, basically a bridge school of sciences for those looking to go to the joint university in the future.

 

“Yeah, so I could go there, learn more of the complicated stuff through their special programs and maybe talk to some teachers about getting me into the university courses with special permission if I work hard enough, and then maybe go out of Japan for university.” Daiki explains.

 

You purse your lips with an impressed look, “Sounds like you’ve got it all mapped out. But remember kid, you can take it slow.”

 

“Yeah… and also,” This must be the part where he confesses about what he’s so nervous about, “I was… going to ask… if it would be okay for me to live with dad if I got in.”

 

Your smoked salmon stops halfway to your mouth, “Huh?” you look up, your voice suddenly getting softer.

 

“Because! Because like, you know, dad actually lives in the city, and he’s not too far from where the school is, so I thought it’d be a better idea if I could live there and do all of those extracurricular activities without adding the commute time…” his voice kind of trails off, which means that he’s still sensitive to how you might be feeling. Either that or he’s just worried that you’ll say no. You don’t want to think you’ve become distanced enough for it to fall into the latter.

 

“Uhm, sure.” you shrug in a small voice.

 

“Eh? Really?” Daiki almost stands up from his seat.

 

“Really?” Sawamura furrows his eyebrows.

 

“Sure. It’s a sensible idea.” you shrug again after forcing your salmon down, hoping you can also swallow the dull pain that’s thudding in your chest. “It makes sense to live closer so you don’t have to worry about that on top of your studies and other things. Besides, you live at Daichi’s place half the time now anyway. There’s no harm in just moving in. And it’s not like you’re not going to visit me, right?” you try your best at teasing.

 

“Of course I’m visiting!” he shouts as if it was immoral to even think otherwise, “Maybe not as often, but there’s no way that I’m not seeing you at least once a week! Even if you’re working, we’re still seeing each other.” he seems pumped now that he’s gotten permission to move in with his dad. And he goes on like that for the rest of the evening, which would make you feel good if you didn’t know that they were just words.

 

From the corner of your eye, you know Sawamura is watching you carefully, and occasionally turning back to Daiki, but he’s obviously thinking hard about something if not disapproving. He’s got a stern dad look on his face right now, and you’re almost sad to admit that it suits him.

 

 

 

 

The second day in Okinawa goes by in a flurry of beach games, endless snacking, and some illegal fireworks that you really shouldn’t be condoning but can’t help watching. Coincidentally, one of Daiki’s friends from school is also here on vacation too, and he brought enough fireworks to set a forest alight. As you watch the bright flowers burst into the pitch Okinawa sky, Sawamura sits beside you, “Hey.” he hums in a voice so deep it would normally make you shudder if you weren’t feeling so perpetually foul.

 

“Hey.” you sigh back without looking at him.

 

There’s a small silence that seems to carry something heavy, but Sawamura breaks it, “Are you enjoying yourself so far?”

 

“It’s good to see Daiki happy.” is all you say.

 

“Is something wrong?”

 

“Why do you ask?”

 

“I know I haven’t seen you very much lately, but I feel as if you’ve been distant. Daiki notices but he chooses not to say anything about it.” When you slightly curve your head, you see that burning hardness in his eyes that he had that evening when you came home last summer, when he told you that Daiki would have grown up happy with or without him in his life. Looking at the way Daiki is now, you find that statement from way back impossible to be. “Before, I feel like you would have said something more like ‘Seeing Daiki happy makes me happy,’ but now it’s just ‘it’s good to see him happy.’ What’s changed?”

 

“As if you don’t know.” you scoff, but when you turn to look at his eyes full of sincerity but something harder, stronger and relentless, and you regret having let slip what you said.

 

“What is it that I should know?” Even his voice has hardened.

 

“Never mind, Daichi. It’s nothing.” you shake your head, hoping he’ll just let you go back to watching the fireworks.

 

But a strong, warm hand on your shoulder tells you you’re not getting what you want, “Of course it’s not nothing. [Name], you really don’t expect me not to notice that something’s happened, do you? We’re practically family, you know you can tell me anything and I’ll do whatever it is I can to help.”

 

“We’re ‘family’? What makes you say that?” you almost let out a bitter laugh, but you settle for staring angrily out at the dark sea that almost blends in with the equally dark sky. You zero in your focus on the darkness in front of you and the contrasting bright explosions above to ignore the burning ache forming in your head.

 

“What do you mean? Of course we’re family, you’re Daiki’s mother. And I… I know we’re not… we’re not married or anything, but I really do see us as a family, even if we’re not together all that often anymore.” If you were paying more attention when the light of the fireworks illuminated his face, you might have seen the slight blush caressing his face.

 

But you’re really too preoccupied by the flood of emotions bursting out of your body like a dam breaking. You don’t know when, but that ache that had been forming pretty much all night, you realize, finally took shape and falls down your face in hot streaks. You can’t see in front of you anymore, even the darkness is blurry with tears, and you’re starting to shake. “[Name]?!” comes Sawamura’s panicked voice. “Are you ok--”

 

“That’s easy for you to say when Daiki still treats you like family. He doesn’t even call me ‘mom’ and he never has!” you lash out at Sawamura before you can stop yourself, “After doing the best I could to become a parent, it’s clear that I wasn’t fit for the job now that he has the dad he’s always wanted to take my place.”

 

“[Name], what are you even saying? That’s complete nonsense, it’s not true.” Sawamura’s grip on you is tighter now, as if he wants to squeeze some sense into you. And you know you’re not making sense to even yourself right now, but as the words come out, they sound pretty logical to you.

 

“Come on, Daichi, open your eyes.” you wrench your shoulder away from his touch, which causes more tears to fall out of your eyes and wet your face. They’re not stopping, “Daiki has only known you for a year and now he’s leaving me to live with you. You saw how happy he was to be moving in with you and away from me. I might as well be a formality.” You’re crying now, really full-on sobbing. You’d be surprised if Sawamura could understand what you said.

 

But you think you’ve had enough for tonight. You’ve spread your emotions too thin and you don’t want everyone to see you this way. It’s bad enough that Sawamura, the caring, amazing, hot, single dad has seen you blubbering like this. If you let Daiki, the most important person in your life see you this way, you don’t know if you could ever live with the shame or embarrassment.

 

Sawamura tries to stop you when you stand and walk towards the beach house that you’re staying at, “[Name], wait. Stop, please. You don’t know what you’re saying.”

 

And he’s right, but it still sounds right to you when you hear it aloud, “I know that what I'm saying isn't baseless. And no matter what you may think, it's clear that I'm not as a good a mother as you are a father.”

 

This time, you storm back to the beach house, and you shower off the sand and dirt and tears until your skin feels raw. Once you're dried off and you have your yukata on properly, you pin your hair up and ignore the puffy faced woman you see in the mirror before walking back out.

 

Sawamura is there, and he stands immediately, as if he’s been on alert. You lower your head and walk past him to sit on the floor of the wooden porch. Before you is a darkness as vast as the ocean that you know is there, but can't make out. And despite all your bitter emotions and drained body, you can still feel a bit of pleasure from the soft evening wind that blows across your face and saturates the air with sea salt.

 

As expected, Sawamura sits down beside you, but he places a cup of tea in between you on the porch. “Have a sip.” he suggests, which clearly means he made some sort of concoction that's probably meant to soothe your unstable emotions. You're not even at the age for menopause yet, but you feel as if you might be an early bloomer.

 

You do take a sip, and it's fantastic. It's some light green tea that really makes you feel warm after all the dehydration of crying your body weight in tears. After closing your eyes and taking a few minutes to let the warm drink settle into your body, you breathe a sigh and turn to Sawamura, “I’m sorry about that. I didn’t mean to lash out at you like that, Daichi. You didn’t deserve that.”

 

“[Name], I don’t mind you venting a bit at all. What I am concerned about is how you’ve gone on feeling like this and thinking all of these… ridiculous things about how Daiki feels.” Sawamura says in a soft, but deep voice that makes you internally shudder. “He does not feel that way, there is no way that Daiki would choose between us. And even if there was some impossible situation in which he did have to choose, you shouldn’t write yourself off so quickly after you’ve seen and helped him grow up for half his life.”

 

At that you sigh, because as much as you want to believe him, you don’t know if you can based on Daiki’s recent behavior. He’s changed in the past year, that was for sure. You wouldn’t consider it a bad thing since he was finally getting in touch with his adolescence like you had hoped. It’s just that you didn’t expect to be left out in the background.

 

“Daichi, I appreciate you coming to take care of me and tell me that, and I apologized for taking all of my negative feelings out on you. But I don’t believe that all of what I said is untrue, even if I said it in a frenzy.” you admit. “Daiki is a new boy, and there is absolutely nothing wrong about that. But if this new Daiki feels like he can get along better with you, and he’d like to spend more time with his father, then there’s nothing I can do about that.”

 

Sawamura makes his first move to scoot closer to you, “[Name], I don’t believe for one second that Daiki is some insensitive, self-serving teenager that you seem to think he’s become. He might be a little obsessed with me right now, but he knows what’s still important to him.” he puts a gentle hand back on your shoulder, just like he had earlier at the beach underneath the fireworks.

 

“If anything, I think you’re the one who’s taking yourself for granted. You keep talking about what Daiki wants, but he loves you, and he wants what you want. He tells me all the time how he’s concerned about how you’re overworking yourself, but he doesn’t want to get in the way of you furthering your career. And he only mentioned this to me once, but I have never seen him more vulnerable than when he told me that he feels like he was the reason that your career was slowed down in the first place.”

 

Sawamura takes a moment to chuckle, “It’s funny how you two are so similar in that aspect, feeling guilt over some irrational fear that probably isn’t real. Daiki told me how he thinks it’s unfair to you for having to take responsibility for him even though he isn’t your blood child. I think that if you would just tell him that you miss him, he would tell you the same.”

 

Well this is news to you. You hadn’t even considered that idea, because you always told Daiki how much you love him and how he’s such a blessing in your life. He still might be a bit young to understand all of that, but to come up with a conclusion like that on his own? Maybe you didn’t know Daiki as well as you thought you did. Should you feel better about that? Or does this add to the fact that he’s willing to trust Sawamura with this feeling within the one year he’s known him as opposed to the several years he’s known you?

 

“Daiki’s never said anything about something like that to me.” you can’t help but waver to your hope that you still have a place in Daiki’s heart.

 

“Well, of course not,” Sawamura chuckles again, finally taking his large, warm hand off of your shoulder. You’re embarrassed to even think about how cold it feels now. The breeze doesn’t feel so welcome anymore. “There’s no way he would burden you with that kind of confession, because what if it turns out to be true? Either you would lie to him to save his feelings, or you’d completely break his heart, is how he probably sees it. You two are very similar in that thought pattern.”

 

You stew in your thoughts for a while longer, until you shift your hand just the slightest as you put your empty cup to the side. It’s then that you realize that Sawamura has almost eliminated the space between your hands. There’s but a few hairs of space between your arms and your breath catches before you realize. Just having brushed fingers has you on the edge of an electric fence, tingling.

 

You can’t tell if Sawamura feels the same electrifying vibes as you do, but you’re grateful that he continues to talk. Although you don’t know if you’re just imagining the reverberation of his deep voice traveling through your bodies through your brushing fingers and arms. It’s almost pathetic how you’re already 29 and this 32-year-old father is making your pulse race and skin sting like a young teenager.

 

“You know he loves you a lot.” Sawamura says in a voice so low it’s almost a whisper.

 

When you tilt your head just a few degrees, you can already tell that he’s staring intensely and intently down at your face. You feel breathless, but you try to talk your way through it anyway, “Yeah, but maybe it won’t stay that way. He calls you dad and he still only calls me [Name]-san. It sounds like I’m the one hindering his life.” you turn back to the beach, unable to handle the pure strength in Sawamura’s eyes.

 

“And he was meant to grow up with you all this time anyway. How can I keep him from being happy when his father wants to be in his life and he wants the same?”

 

There’s a deep, heavy silence that you feel could tame all of the ocean waves on this beach. You don’t know what you’re trying to do anymore, but you’re babbling now, “And there’s also my time and career that keeps us apart and I feel like he doesn’t need anything from me anymore…”

 

“That’s not true.” Was that the breeze or Sawamura’s breath that brushed against your neck? You don’t know which one you hope it to be more. “He needs you most. More than he’ll ever need me.”

 

You can’t help it anymore, you have to look at him. You feel like he’s speaking to you from the depths of his soul, his voice is so deep and resounding. And his eyes tell you the same thing. You can’t look away now.

 

“He loves talking about you. And whenever I recommend for him to try something new, he always wonders what you’ll think first.” This time, you feel his breath brush against your face. And while you’re hearing the words coming out of his mouth, your body is only receptive of his body right now.

 

“Maybe so,” Dear god, your voice sounds so weak, it’s pathetic. “But he’s growing up so fast. Soon he’ll be able to make decisions in his own life without even thinking about me…”

 

Something finally compels Sawamura to lift his large, strong hands up to gently hold your face, and you don’t know why, but that somehow intensifies the connection between your gazes, as if you’re communicating without talking anymore, but about something else entirely. “You know that’s not true. It’ll never be true… He loves you.” he takes a moment to scan the rest of your face, and linger at your lips for a bit, “And I know exactly why.”

 

The next moment, you don’t see anymore. Your eyes have fluttered closed and you can only feel. Feel Sawamura’s lips pressed firmly against yours, his hands cupping your face, his thigh pressed against yours, his heat traveling into your body, his tender affection communicating to your entire body and mind and soul. This kiss is so beautiful that you could cry. It resounds in every cell of your body and infuses a little bit of Sawamura into each molecule until you are completely permeated by his existence.

 

Every glide and movement of Sawamura’s lips against yours soaks you in something that feels like honey for your soul. Each touch and sensation washes you into another zone of Sawamura. And when your thoughts are coherent enough to realize that’s his tongue sliding gently across your lip, your entire spirit trembles and you start to doubt if you’ve ever truly felt anything up until now.

 

It’s over all too soon when you let slip a helpless mewl, and Sawamura pulls away to catch his breath. You’re dizzy, you have to steady yourself on the wooden planks of the porch and look down at the pattern of your yukata to stabilize your vision. You’ve never had a kiss like that. Everything you’ve ever experienced that might be categorized as a kiss is pitiful compared to what Sawamura’s mouth just did to you.

 

But before you can fully right your head and think of a way to assess the situation, Daiki comes running from down the beach, “[Name]-san! Dad!” he calls when he catches sight of you two together.

 

“Daiki?” you pipe up first, “What’s wrong?”

 

“Haruki’s mom told me… told me that… that you guys… had a fight? Or something?” he pants out between breaths.

 

Sawamura looks at you as if urging you to tell him something, but you’re so muddled right now that you can’t be bothered to remember what you had talked about earlier. So you just turn back to Daiki and do your best not to sound as dizzy as you feel, “No, there was no fight. I did get upset over something, but we’ve talked it out. There’s nothing wrong.”

 

Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Sawamura’s broad shoulders slump just a little in disappointment, but you keep your focus on Daiki. “Oh,” he says, “Well, uhm… that’s good, then.” His face shows that he isn’t completely convinced of anything, and his eyes keep lingering on your face. You start to remember that you had come out of the shower kind of puffy, but it might be dark enough to hide that.

 

“Why don’t you come here and join us?” you pat the almost nonexistent spot between you and Sawamura, and the man beside you scoots back over to make space immediately.

 

“Here, have some tea.” Sawamura pours another mug from the teapot he had set next to him. He refills your cup as well, looking as if he was completely unaffected by what just happened, but the way he shyly avoids your gaze is some indicator that you had not just imagined that entire thing. It would be impossible for you to have made up something like that. But soon enough, the three of you are having a civilized, friendly conversation on the back porch as if you hadn’t had an emotional breakdown not even an hour ago and the most mind blowing kiss of your life a minute before.

 

You talk and joke and laugh altogether and the entire scene really feels like something out of a family photo album. And if you’re honest with yourself, you don’t feel displaced at all. If anything, you’re enjoying yourself, so you work your hardest to push away those insecure thoughts that always pop up at the worst times for the evening.

 

That night, when you’re all tucked into the tatami mats on the floor placed beside each other, you lie awake staring at the dark ceiling. It’s not completely dark because the moon is particularly bright outside the window, and it illuminates the room with a soft glow that shines on Daiki’s sleeping face that’s sleeping beside you. He looks like a little angel, and you smile at the thought, because he really was like a little angel that flew into your life one day.

 

On his other side lies Sawamura, who you realize isn’t yet asleep when he softly calls your name. You look up from your affectionate gaze at Daiki to find Sawamura’s moving figure in the darkness, but he’s probably still lying down. You reply with a soft, “Yes?” as not to wake Daiki.

 

“About Daiki coming to live with me for high school,” he starts, and you bite your lip, not really wanting to address this topic right before you were going to sleep. Who knows how long it would haunt you before you finally found sleep? “Why don’t you come live together with us?”

 

“What?” you blurt out before you can stop yourself. You hadn’t even considered that option. Now that you think about it, there are a lot of things that you haven’t considered because you were always busy stewing you own self pity. But after tonight, with such a pleasant little family huddle on the back porch, and the most sensational lip lock you’ve ever fathomed, you don’t find imagining the three of you living together as difficult as you expected.

 

“You could come live with Daiki and me. I… I have enough room, and I really wouldn’t mind having you around as well.” he says.

 

That’s true. Sawamura’s apartment has two bedrooms, as well as a pull-out sofa in the living room, so it wouldn’t be difficult to live with three people in his home. Maybe you all could even sleep in the same room on the floor with each other like tonight. It’s such a tempting offer. So incredibly tempting.

 

But no, it wouldn’t work. Daiki is a growing teenage boy, he’ll want his privacy. And the same would probably go for Sawamura. Not to mention moving would probably be a hassle. As much as the word ‘yes’ is lingering at the tip of your tongue, “No, Chiba is closer to my research facility. And my EDL project is picking up speed. I might be out of the country more and more, which is one of the main reasons why I told Daiki he could stay with you. I don’t want to leave him alone when he needs more support in high school.” you continue to make excuses.

 

“Then come stay during the weekends.” Sawamura compromises.

 

“But--”

 

“It doesn’t have to be all the time, and you’ll still be busy, yes. But whenever you can, just stay with us during the weekends.” The firmness in his voice doesn’t make it sound like he’s going to take no for an answer.

 

You’re quiet for a while before you finally sigh, “We can try it out.”

 

Sawamura’s figure seems to settle in its position and soon starts moving slowly with his calmed breathing.

 

 

*

 

 

So you try it out, right after summer vacation ends, and it actually works out spectacularly well. The weekends are something you all seem to look forward to now, in which you laugh over hot pot dinners and television game shows together. Sometimes you play board games or just have intensive debates about social issues that you would expect to have at a bar with a coworker, but Daiki has always been able to keep up with.

 

The rooming arrangements are a bit confusing because the pullout sofa has been reduced to a regular sofa, since something got broken when Daiki was doing some sort of physics experiment in the living room. And since the bedroom that Daiki uses is filled with his science projects and other contraptions, somehow you ended up sharing a room with Sawamura whenever you sleep over. After relentless arguments, you both agree to sleep on his queen-sized bed.

 

Neither of you had ever mentioned the kiss aloud, but the tension was high when it was just the two of you alone together. You and Sawamura were both insistent about just sleeping on the floor, but eventually you both lost and had to compromise with the most practical option. The bed was easily fit for two, and nothing but your own pride was keeping you apart.

 

At first, you didn’t know if you had the guts to sleep in the same bed with Sawamura, or the willpower to leave him alone if you did. But the first few weekends went by smoothly enough. You were tense until you got tired enough to fall asleep, but you managed to control yourself. But it was still pretty damn challenging.

 

If you thought Sawamura in his usual business suit was hard to ignore, Sawamura in his pajamas is hard to resist . You had pegged him as a t-shirt and sweatpants kind of guy, but just your luck, he sleeps in a tank and boxers. And in actually, the tank top is just courtesy, because apparently he usually sleeps in just the boxers, according to an outburst from Daiki one morning.

 

That’s one of the more difficult things about staying over during the weekends. You don’t know whether Sawamura is more attractive in the evening when he’s being domestic and fatherly, or in the morning when he’s sleepy and husky-voiced. And despite pointedly trying to ignore the firm shape of his arms and thighs, the tank top really weakens you. It’s embarrassing.

 

Well at least you seem to have the same effect on him when he seems laser focused on your face rather than the large jersey and small shorts you usually wear to sleep. Once, you had actually forgotten to bring it over after a flight home, so Sawamura offered you one of his old volleyball jerseys.

 

That had been a night full of lectures because you had tried to imitate some moves before Daiki and Sawamura took it upon themselves to explain to you the proper techniques for receiving and spiking and serving and other things. But you had a feeling that Sawamura was just relieved to have a task to focus on so he wouldn’t continue staring at you in his clothes.

 

And there finally came a night in which neither of you could ignore the pulsing need for each other’s bodies. For some reason, Daiki was really excited to play Twister because he had played it at a sleepover before, and his friend let him borrow it for a family game night. Needless to say, you brushed and rubbed and held yourself under, over, and around Sawamura’s body in a tangle that Daiki also joined. Each round, you had all fallen over each other laughing, and it was actually incredibly fun, but there was no denying the thick tension you blatantly ignored whenever you landed on or put your face near Sawamura’s crotch, and he yours.

 

You and Sawamura could ignore your building desires as much as you wanted in front of Daiki, but once the bedroom door was closed, there was no escape for either of you. Admittedly, you both tried your best at first, but all it took was a brush of your hip against his strong thigh to get the both of you to freeze in your tracks. Sidestepping each other from where you had been about to walk away from the dresser and Sawamura towards it for a clean shirt, he puts what he must believe to be a casual hand on your shoulder before asking if you’re okay.

 

But you barely register what he says because your body goes wild. The heat and weight of his large hand practically melts you and lights your core on fire. His freaking hand on your shoulder. And you’re already getting wet. You want him desperately closer, for his heat to engulf you, to feel his strong hands sliding down your arms to grip at your hips. You want him everywhere, and he can see that clear as day through your eyes.

 

It’s a silent submission. Sawamura leans down to kiss you with just his lips. Your noses barely brush, but this rising heat and mind-numbing tingle is unmistakable. You had wondered if another kiss would have been the same as the first one you shared, but it’s clear that the heightened tension built up upon weeks of ignoring each other has sent you crashing. And when Sawamura presses closer still, your body falls into shambles. You don’t know how you’re still standing.

 

It’s impossible to tell how much time passes by, if you’re even conscious of time, but eventually you feel Sawamura press his chest softly against yours as he places his hands on your hips. He’s so… pecs. And hands. Hot. Hard. Good. He feels so good.

 

Your thoughts jumble and come together in bits and pieces, so you don’t bother to think as you tilt your own head to participate more actively in this kiss. And when you regain consciousness of your own hands, they’re sliding up Sawamura’s smooth, bare arms until they clutch at his shoulders. He’s unreal.

 

You’re moaning and you know it. And he knows it. In the back of your mind, you can only hope that Daiki can’t hear from his room on the other side of the small hallway separating the bedrooms. But Sawamura makes it difficult for you to think about anything other than him. Him and his hot body and beautiful soul and pure eyes and tender touch. His cologne had done a number on you back during the first rounds of Twister, but now you’re drowning in it, in a sea of Sawamura and you don’t know how to swim.

 

Cursing yourself for needing to breathe, you pull away from his mouth, although your chests still touch and your hands are clutching onto each other’s bodies like lifelines. “This is crazy.” you breathe out for some reason as you try to remember the color of his eyes, because all you see is pupil right now.

 

“Is it really so crazy?” he closes his eyes and nips at your mouth, then your jaw, then your neck. But he lifts his head back up to tell you to your face, “I’m attracted to you. I won’t pretend that I’m not. I have been since around the time we met.”

 

He leans in to press another viscous kiss against your lips. Your vision is swimming as much as your mind is, but your mouth runs, “So what do you want me to do?”

 

Sawamura breathes through his nose as if he’s in pain as he returns your heady gaze. He kisses, then licks at your lips before pressing your foreheads together, “Well, right now…” he whispers in that shudder-inducing voice of his, “I’d love to continue where we left off.”

 

He punctuates his request with yet another knee-melting kiss. You can feel your thighs twitching, and your underwear dampening. “And maybe…” he continues talking through several kisses across your face, neck, ear, collarbone, “later on… We can go out together. Just the two of us.”

 

When your lips are freed again, you try to focus your gaze on the perfection of man in front of and all around you, “Well what if it doesn’t work out between us?” You and your stupid logical mouth. You are literally cock-blocking yourself right now. “We have a child we both deeply care about. If we don’t work out, then what about him?” you manage to breathe out coherently enough for yourself to hear, at least. And with Sawamura’s proximity, he can luckily hear you as well.

 

Then Sawamura does something beyond romantic, it’s almost tragic. He lifts your chin up between his fingers to gaze deeply into your faded eyes, and says in his deepest voice yet, “With a such a wonderful woman like you, I would do anything I could to make it work out.”

 

As he says it, you feel as if he’s just recited a lyrical poem to you in a voice sculpted by the muses themselves. He could probably break you with a look, but you want to have faith that he won’t. And as he comes closer to your face, he whispers, “But in the case that you would reject me even then, Daiki would accept and make the most of whatever outcome would happen. And so would I.”

 

Closing his eyes to leaving a brush of a kiss across your lips, he leaves you trembling in his wake as he moves his mouth up to brush his lips against your ear, “But I’d really love it if we could work out somehow, and become like a real family.”

 

Oh, he’s the devil. Or at least an angel disguised as one. You’ve never heard everything you’ve ever wanted summed up into one sentence like that before. As Sawamura’s lips work magic across your mouth and shoulders, his hands start moving. One hand moves down to cup your butt, while the other moves up to gently caress your stomach. And your befuddled brain suddenly conjures up images of a new child in your life, coming to life in your body, bringing new love and happiness to your family.

 

A picture of Daiki holding his baby sibling in his arms, taking them for a walk, tutoring them in school. A mirage of Sawamura lying beside you in bed every night, holding your hand, caressing your stomach like he is now. A fantasy of him, just him, naked. And him putting his mouth on other parts of you, and you putting your mouth on other parts of him. He tastes incredible in this mirage, and he wants you so, so bad. As much as you want him.

 

Then a press of Sawamura’s hard length against your stomach reminds you that this is not just fantasy. He’s here and ready for you, wanting you. And without warning, you grip at his shoulders hard enough to hold yourself up as you lift and wrap your legs around Sawamura’s waist, pressing his hard-on right up against the center of your core. Even with the layers of fabric between you, the heat is scorching.

 

Sawamura groans as you press your hips harder against him, forcing your core against the shape of his shaft in his pants. You might be imagining it, but Sawamura’s small noises seem to correlate with the pulsating of your lower region pressed against him, even through the clothing. And then you’re rocking. Sawamura has his hands on your butt, holding you up as he bucks up into you while standing.

 

Your legs clamp tight around his waist, needing him closer, harder, faster, and you’re moaning. You’re moaning relentlessly. You’re moaning even when Sawamura uses a hand to force your head down to press your lips onto his. You’re moaning all the while as he bucks and thrusts against you with one forearm cradling your weight from beneath your ass to hold you up.

 

You can feel every one of his sinewy muscles flexing as he holds you up and rubs against you. It’s spectacular, the way his biceps pulse, and his thigh muscles contract beneath you, and his shoulders are resilient to your scratching and squeezing as he rocks your bodies together.

 

“More.” you croak out, breathless.

 

“Huh?” Sawamura replies, just as breathless, taking a pause with his bucking hips.

 

“More.” you whisper, holding your hips away as best as you can while your legs are still clamped around his waist to pull down the waistband of his sweats. With some effort, you find his thick, hot shaft and pull it out.

 

The first touch leaves a searing imprint on your palm from the heat, but you can’t help but love the burn as you pump him a few times in your hand. Sawamura throws his head back with another groan of pained pleasure, “God, yes.” It almost sounds like a prayer.

 

As good as he feels in your hand, you wanted more than that, so you let your hips do the talking for you. Wrapping your arms around Sawamura’s shoulders again, you’re back to bucking your hips against his crotch, pressing his naked shaft harder against your soaked shorts. It’s not nearly enough of what you need, but it’s better than before, when you had another few layers of fabric obscuring the friction.

 

“Ah…! Ah…!” you voice comes out in little gasps as Sawamura helps you with the thrusting. It really does make a bit of a difference, because now you can rub against his more sensitive areas more substantially. And then you grab at the tip of his cock to flick your thumb across it and circle around the seam until he comes. All over your hand and jersey. And you love it.

 

Unwrapping your legs from around his waist, Sawamura sets you down gently. But you’re quite sore from the intensive squeezing, so you fall onto the edge of his bed, and he follows you with his hands still attached to your hips to catch you. Carefully, observantly, you lift your hand up to see the white running down along your wrist and forearm, threatening to drip down onto your bare thigh. So this is Sawamura’s cum , you think as you lick at it.

 

You hear him suck in a sharp breath and your eyes shoot back to Sawamura’s face, where you see he’s biting his lip as he watches you intently. You keep your eyes on him as you flick your tongue out to take another dollop into your mouth, and a deep resounding growl sounds from Sawamura’s throat. You only have time to take one more lick before he’s on top of you, kissing you like crazy.

 

Your entire body is on fire, shot by lightning, underneath a waterfall. He’s already half hard again, and rubbing against your clothed core hard enough to rock the bed just a bit. You moan into his mouth as you raise your hips up to meet his in a circular rubbing of your crotches. But just as you’re finally about to pique, he pulls his mouth and hips away from you, and he looks at you with playful eyes as if he isn’t being totally cruel.

 

Putting a finger to his lips, he reminds you to stay quiet before he lowers himself to the ground on his knees so he can pull your shorts and panties off of your legs. You shudder as his fingertips travel down along the length of your legs to follow your bottoms. When you lift your head, you feel your face grow hot as you see the look on Sawamura’s face as he eyes your pussy.

 

It has been a long, long time since you’ve shown a man that part of yourself, but all of your distant memories falter in comparison to the deep and pure hunger and ambition you see in Sawamura’s dark eyes. You feel like hours pass by as his face comes closer to the space between your legs, but when he makes contact with your lower lips, you know that a kiss from him down there is just the same as a kiss on your mouth - electrifying.

 

Maybe skill comes with his age, and Sawamura has obviously been with several women, but you could never have even fathomed the sheer skill of his tongue and mouth. He knows just where to kiss, where to lick, where to suck, and when to interchange spots and motions. “Oh…” you throw your head back, grabbing handfuls of the blanket and sheets beneath you, “Daichi…” you breathe, mind utterly blanked out. There’s nothing but him.

 

“Say that again.” he murmurs against your core, poking his tongue into your entrance.

 

It takes you a moment to realize he’s lingering with just the tip of his tongue at your entrance, and it takes you another moment to process his request. But eventually it comes together somehow in your swampy thoughts, and you manage to mewl again, “Daichi…”

 

“God, yes.” he moans against your pussy, diving right in. His moan travels deeper into you than anything you’ve ever felt. It’s as if he’s touched your inner soul that lays at rest inside your body, and he’s awakened it with a command of his tongue. Your body responds to everything he does; every flick of his tongue against your walls, every scrape of his teeth against your lips, every thorough suck of your clit, and each caress of his hands along your hips, thighs, calves, stomach.

 

And when he fondles your breasts, you’re a goner. His hands are underneath your jersey and he pulls at your nipples between his index and middle fingers, using his thumbs and remaining fingers to squeeze at the rise of your breasts. “Oh, Daichi!” you squeal, bringing your hands down to bury into his hair. It’s short, but just long enough for you to pull.

 

He responds to your call by moaning your name into your hot, dripping core until you spill out all over his mouth and chin. And he laps it up as eagerly as you had his cum. Your body is still trembling even when he finishes, and he brings his face up to kiss you a little more sloppily this time. You can taste yourself in his tongue, and you really don’t mind the taste since it’s mixed with Sawamura’s.

 

This time, when he pulls away, he smiles down at you affectionately, “I knew you’d taste amazing.” And before you can even feel embarrassed about what he said, he’s pushed two fingers inside of you. “Oh!” you slap a hand over your mouth to keep yourself from shouting.

 

Yes, indeed, it has been a very long time. But every minute Sawamura touches you, you feel wetter than the ocean and even more desperate to have him whole. He keeps a slow and steady pace for you, and only when your body has released its tension does he add his third finger in, alternating between thrusting and curling and scissoring inside of you. It feels like an eternity, but with Sawamura’s kisses along your neck and cheek and nose, you find the patience to wait through it. You will get what you want , he promises.

 

But when? You want to scream. Only Sawamura’s butterfly kisses on your face prod and distract you from your own impatience and frustration with your own body. But with a few rubs of his thumb against your clit, you manage to cope better. And when he presses harder and flicks at it in unpredictable intervals of rubbing it, you manage to finally come with vivid images of Sawamura’s dick inside of you permeating your mind.

 

Sawamura disappears from your body for a moment to slip a condom on his newly hardened cock, and to pull his tank top over his head to throw on the ground. You follow suit and try to lift the jersey up off of your body from your position lying on the bed. With a bit of help, you and Sawamura throw the jersey off to the side so you can revel in each other’s naked beauty.

 

Well, mostly naked. You eye the condom slipped over his impressive shaft, and suddenly you want it in your mouth too. You just want it everywhere, but Sawamura keeps your focus on him as he aligns himself with your core. The tip kisses the entrance, and you can’t help but smile. You are anticipating this so hard, you want all of him, and you want him now.

 

Staring up to admire his toned chest and arms, you watch his concentrated expression as he slowly moves into you. The slide is easier than you expected because of how wet you are, but it still takes a bit of adjusting to his size. “Daichi…” you lift your hand up to caress his cheek.

 

“[Name].” he whispers as he places his own hand over yours on his cheek, and he beams into your eyes with the pure tenderness and care that only the greatest lover among the gods could express.

 

Pulling out slowly, he slides back in, sinking into your skin like a fine syrup, driving you into a sugar rush. Sawamura presses his chest against yours as he continues gliding in and out of you until your expression and body relax completely.

 

You run your hands generously down his muscled back, trying to memorize each curve and crevice through touch alone, wanting to have him ingrained into your very being. And when you run your hands lower, you find yet another impressive asset of his body as you squeeze his firm ass. The action pushes him harder against you as his rolls his hips against yours. And its snake-like movement inside of you lights a shower of stars to blur your vision. “Daichi.” you moan into his neck, “More.” and finally he changes the pace.

 

Soon, he’s pumping more and more rapidly into you until he’s practically hammering himself into your insides. Only his mouth atop yours muffles the tireless moans and whimpers that come out of your throat as he throws himself into you completely, losing himself as you do the same.

 

He slips a hand down between your bodies to rub and pinch at your clit in a desperate attempt to have you come with him. And as your breathing shortens with his ministrations, he can tell you’re close, so he adjusts his own pace to pound into you until he’s about to burst. And with a last thrust and tug at your clit, he does manage to make you both come together. God, you find that so incredibly heartwarming and pretty damn hot that he can manipulate your body into coming when and how he wants you to.

 

“Daichi…” you whine as he pulls out and removes the filled condom.

 

When he returns, he tucks you both into bed and kisses you until you fall asleep. You smile softly just before you lose consciousness, loving how warm and strong his arms feel around you, how smooth his skin feels sliding against yours, how thorough he is to take care of you from beginning to end. You could easily get used to this.

 

 

 

 

 

And that’s exactly what you do. It’s not like you have sex every single night that you’re there, but you usually do romp around in the sheets at least once whenever you stay the weekend. What was already a lovely family bond to look forward to grows into something more as you explore Sawamura’s body to your full satisfaction, and he yours. They usually start off hurried, but you often have some nice conversations afterwards.

 

But sexual interaction aside, you’ve found a place in Sawamura’s home with Daiki. You don’t find yourself as haunted by your insecure thoughts as much when you see Daiki sharing his enthusiasm with you since you’re in the same vicinity most weekends. There isn’t any lingering displacement you feel anymore when you’re all sleeping in the same apartment and spending time together. And even though you’re still flying out at least twice a month now, you still manage to make some time to support Daiki with whatever he needs.

 

And because it’s Daiki’s last term of middle school, you do everything you can to get involved when the opportunity comes. You seem to have made quite a splash with the school community. The last time you attended a school event that involved parent/guardian participation, there was a game show type activity that involved a lot of scientific trivia where you won a grand prize and donated it back to the school. That must have left an impact on a lot of people, because you’re practically bombarded with hands to shake and names to remember when you show up to the end of the year festival the week before Daiki’s graduation.

 

You must be a big deal among his environmental science club friends, because they’re all so incredibly excited to meet you and talk to you about world issues and ask you about your diplomatic experiences. Daiki is pretty popular, you find out, considering the number of people that you’re introduced to, some of whom introduce themselves.

 

Is it childish of you to feel flattered when you see some of Daiki’s friends and classmates blushing and fumbling over their own words when they try to talk to you? Even a couple of male teachers and staff had come up to you with flirty smiles. It gave your ego a small boost that you didn’t know you needed. Almost 30 and you still got it.

 

To your surprise, Sawamura isn’t very good at hiding his dislike of these patterns. After another science teacher had left your picnic area after asking for your business card, he looks incredibly exasperated. “What?” you ask.

 

“If I didn’t know any better, I would’ve assumed that everyone is coming up to talk to us to get a chance to interact with you, rather than Daiki.” he drawls sarcastically.

 

The irritated look on Sawamura’s face is actually quite cute, because you never expected someone so mature and put-together like him to get riled up over something like this.

 

But even more surprising than that is how bothered Daiki seems to be over this. “I’ll say! I’ve never even talked to anyone from the baseball club! And Takemura sensei doesn’t even like me! He’s always hated how I was a know-it-all who never gave anyone else a chance to answer questions in class. And now he’s kissing up to you as if I was his favorite student all year.”

 

“Oh come on, Daiki.” you scoff, unable to believe that he’s this affected by the attention you’re getting, “You know who’s important to you and who isn’t, so it shouldn’t matter how much someone grovels at your feet. Once you’re a bigwig in whatever industry you choose to excel in, you’re gonna get a lot of this, so you might as well desensitize yourself to it now.”

 

Sawamura seems to approve of your sensible advice by the way he smiles at you before turning down to open up the food boxes you had bought from the festival. “But still, shouldn’t they at least lay off a little bit when they see that dad is here…” Daiki grumbles, almost more to himself than anyone else.

 

You laugh a little at that, “Well I suppose that would be more sensible of them if they didn’t know about the situation. But if they do, then we don’t really have a valid excuse to turn them away for a short greeting.”

 

“Well, I mean!” he pipes up but settles himself back onto the picnic blanket as Sawamura places the open boxes into the middle, “I mean… It’s just… annoying to see everyone faking their interest in me to get to you.”

 

“Ooh, well pardon me for taking up your precious time by having you act as a secretarial bridge, Mr. Daiki.” you ruffle his hair as you taunt him a little bit, even making Sawamura laugh. “Come on, kid, what do you want me to do about it? People kiss ass, that’s just how it is sometimes.”

 

“Well, I don’t know! Maybe you could… like… you know, wear a ring or something?” Daiki makes a timid suggestion, but that in itself almost makes you spit out the tea you had just taken a sip of.

 

“A ring? Why in the world would I do that?” you burst out in laughter, “Does it bother you that much? I can’t help that I’m so popular, jeez.” you elbow him playfully.

 

“Well, it’s just, you know, it’s just… annoying. Some people need to figure out when to back off.” he seems to throw a sharp glare at someone. When you turn your head to follow his gaze, there’s Takemura sensei, the incredibly friendly English teacher who had started the longest conversation you have ever had about world language and travel with a stranger, who finds your gaze and waves at you.

 

You wave back politely before turning back to Daiki and Sawamura, whose jaw seems a bit tighter than it was just a minute ago, “I see your point, but you do realize that just wearing a ring isn’t going to convince everybody , right? And it might not even stop some people if they’re more ambitious than the average bachelor.”

 

“Yeah, but… it would do something. I think it isn’t a bad idea.”

 

“Daiki, why are you so insistent on this idea? Where do you even want me to get a ring from?” you’re finding it harder to joke about this now.

 

“Well… I think dad has one you could use…” he looks expectantly at Sawamura.

 

“Daiki, I was kidding. I could get a ring myself if I really wanted one. I don’t need to borrow one from Dai...chi…” When you lock eyes with Sawamura, and then look back and forth between his cluelessly surprised face and Daiki’s nervous but hopeful expression, it starts to click.

 

And a few flashes back in the past year and a half with the two boys leave you remembering snippets of Daiki leaving you and Sawamura alone on the beach while he played with his friend in the water, Daiki creating a situation and offering suggestions for you and Sawamura to share a room, even arranging seats specifically so you and Sawamura would sit next to each other. And now he seems mad that you have a line of suitors queued up when he clearly has a father he already likes.

 

You burst into breathless laughter, hitting Daiki’s arm repeatedly, “Oh my gosh, you little sneak. I was wondering why you had so many physics projects piled up in your room. You never even liked physics, and some of them were clearly too shoddy to be your own work.” Daiki has seen and been tutored by too many professionals to give up on a project halfway or use half-assed materials like the ones you saw stuffed to the brim in his room.

 

“They weren’t even yours, were they?” you cross your arms, with a smug but stern smile on your face. Daiki sucks his lips into a tight pucker as he shakes his head.

 

“And the sofa? Was that your doing as well?” you raise an eyebrow at him. He waits but slowly nods his head. This kid is unbelievable.

 

“Was it even a coincidence that your friend was in Okinawa at the same time as we were?”

 

“Well… Haruki was the one who was going to Okinawa. So I kind of made the suggestion to dad to go at the same time so we could hang out.” he explains but he isn’t looking you in the eye completely.

 

“Uh huh…” you keep your suspicious eyes on him. “So, tell me Mr. Matchmaker Daiki-san, what is your end goal here?” you spare a quick glance at Sawamura to see that he's biting his own lip to hold in his laughter.

 

“Well, it's just… It's not like you and dad don't get along! And… And well, I mean, I just thought maybe it'd be cool if we could just live together as a family all the time, instead of just during the weekend…”

 

He looks like he's about to melt into the ground from embarrassment and guilt, and he's just so adorable. You uncross your arms and pull him against you with a breathless laugh, “Daiki, how incredibly sweet and innovative of you to try and set me up with your father. But we're adults, we can figure things out on our own even without your meddling.” Oh, if only he knew how far his meddling has already taken you.

 

When you let go of him, he seems to have a bit of a disappointed look on his face, as if he thinks that you're going to overlook his efforts. But you place a supportive hand on his shoulder and look to Sawamura, “However, since Daiki has insisted, would you like to go on a date with me sometime, Daichi?”

 

Daiki’s head jerks up and he looks between you and Sawamura hurriedly and expectantly. “I mean, I'm out of the country a lot, I'm not very good at cooking a lot, and I often neglect to tell those important to me how much I love and need them,” you brush your fingers through Daiki’s hair, “But I've got a really amazing young boy at home who's going to do great things one day, and I think he's been needing a bit of a father figure in his life.”

 

Sawamura chuckles deeply in his baritone voice and smiles back at both you and Daiki, “Well, I think that's wonderful. I also have a son that I'm getting to know better every day, so I think we’ll get along fine.” he also ruffles up Daiki’s hair a bit, “And I always admire a woman who has a career that keeps her busy. You don't have to worry about cooking, my son and I are pretty good with that. And I have a similar habit, of hoping that my loved ones will understand how I feel without words. But maybe we can learn from each other.”

 

Daiki looks like he's about to burst, although a little confused. So you smile at him before looking back up at Sawamura, “Cool. How about we go out for dinner sometime then?”

 

“Sounds lovely.”

 

“Daiki, do you have plans next weekend?” you ask.

 

“Well, no.” he blinks.

 

“Why don't you go make some then?” you give him a hinting smile and he blinks for a bit before sitting up rod straight.

 

“I'll go ask my friend if I can sleep over!” and he dashes off somewhere, leaving you and Sawamura laughing on the picnic blanket.

 

When your laughter calms down, you and Sawamura meet eyes. It's incredible how his strong gaze can make you shy away even now. “Guess things have a way of working themselves out.” he says softly, tenderly, as if he's sharing a secret.

 

“I guess so. Can you believe how suave he is though?” you snort, “‘Maybe you could wear a ring.’ Is it supposed to be that simple?”

 

Sawamura laughs too, but in a more restrained way, almost nervously. It sounds oddly suspicious. “What?” you say.

 

“Well, I actually do have a ring that I keep in the apartment. It was my mother’s engagement ring. Daiki found it once and asked me about it.” he suddenly looks shy, rubbing the back of his head and looking away from you.

 

“Is that so.” you smile, imagining a casual conversation between the two boys about marriage and love and how it might've sparked some ideas into Daiki’s head. You wonder to yourself if you'll ever get to see the aforementioned ring. Or if you really jump to conclusions, wear it…

 

The thought makes your stomach flip and you clear your throat. To busy yourself, you reach for some of the food that had been forgotten ever since you had all sat down. It's cold now, but honestly, it still tastes good.

 

 

***

 

 

Six weeks. This has been the longest you have ever been away from your family. You had been attending several speeches and signings for the adoption of the environmental policy you and your team had been working on for years, and there was still work to be done. But now that the team is bigger, you don't have to attend as many events in person as you did in the beginning.

 

But these six weeks have been brutal on you. Finally your research and work is being implemented but there are just so many formalities that take up so much of your time. You would really rather be attending one of your son’s volleyball games. Or lying in bed with your husband.

 

Husband. That word still feels foreign to you even several months after your wedding. The entire affair was also kind of a formality, but you enjoyed it all the same. After your lease on the apartment in Chiba ended, you decided to just move in with Sawamura and Daiki. And you were able to see both your boys almost every day instead of having to wait for the weekend to come.

 

The commute to your research facility was the only downside, but it was really a small price to pay for getting to eat with your boys every day and going to sleep next to Sawamura every night. And since you and Sawamura had started “dating officially” thanks to Daiki’s little debacles, you feel closer as a family than ever.

 

Actually, Daiki is probably the one most actively trying to advance your relationship, since he was the one who kept bothering Sawamura to bring the engagement ring out before he graduated high school. And now here you are, in your early thirties with a flourishing career, a brilliant son in his final year of high school, and a husband who never fails to weaken your knees and show you his love. These have been the happiest days of your life. You feel like you're part of something bigger, something whole. It’s absurd how perfectly everything fell into place.

 

When you walk out of the airport terminal, you're reminded of that when you're bombarded with your arms full of teenage boy. Surprisingly, as Daiki got older and progressed through high school, he only grew more affectionate with you and Sawamura. The transition from “[Name]-san” to “mom” was a little awkward but quick. When he let it slip by accident the first time and quickly tried to correct himself, you had stared at each other before laughing and crushing him into a hug. You didn't realize how just being called a different name could make your heart swell with such pride. He actually loves calling you mom.

 

“Mom!” he cries into your shoulder. He's as tall as Sawamura now, and he's lean but not as muscular as his dad. “Six weeks is too long.” he whines.

 

“Yeah, I know. Sorry, kiddo.” you ruffle his hair before letting him go.

 

Your husband comes up to you next and wraps you in a small, but strong hug, and leaves you only with a quick peck. “Welcome back.”

 

“That's all I get? I thought you would've missed me more.” you joke as Sawamura takes your suitcase for you and Daiki your small duffel.

 

“I did. Like crazy.” he smiles at you secretly, telling you silently with his eyes that he'll show you just how much later. And just like that, your core twitches. He just gives you a look and you're already anticipating how wet he's going to make you. You’re as pathetic as ever.

 

Nothing beats the smell of a home cooked meal after weeks of travel. You’re not picky with your food, but city hopping all the time and experimenting with a new meal almost every day makes you crave for something familiar and comforting. And what can be more comforting than Sawamura and Daiki’s special hot pot broth and cake for dessert?

 

You invite the boys to fill you in on what you missed, because nothing too stimulating happened during your travels this time around. It’s a complete shame that you missed out on the Inter High tournament, but apparently, Daiki’s school made it into the top 16. You never expected Daiki to join a sports club in high school, but due to his father’s influence, he decided to try it out since he was attending a pretty illustrious school anyway. And he fits in pretty well for someone who started out a bit later.

 

“We lost to dad’s rivals from high school. You should’ve seen how scary he was when we ran into their coach, mom.” Daiki leans in dramatically.

 

“You mean the esteemed Nekoma High School?” you laugh, unable to miss the competitive edge darkening Sawamura’s eyes. “Who’s the coach?”

 

“His name’s Kuroo. He was also captain in his third year, like I was. He’s always been the crafty type. A good leader, but completely ruthless.” he shakes his head and he reaches for the ladle to scoop more food into his bowl.

 

You exchange a look with Daiki before the two of you burst into chortles, “Well, doesn’t that sound familiar.”

 

“What?” Sawamura looks at you two as if he doesn’t understand what the joke is, which only makes you two laugh more.

 

The rest of the evening progresses with a similar atmosphere until you and Sawamura have to force Daiki to go to bed, “But I haven’t seen mom in weeks! And it’s Saturday!”

 

“Which means you have to have the energy to stay awake to spend Sunday with her.” Sawamura literally steers your son by his shoulders into his room. There’s still a bit of arguing back and forth, but Daiki eventually grumbles in defeat before saying goodnight. He’s a smart kid, he probably knows his dad wants his own alone time with you.

 

Despite being a bit tired from the flight and crashing after weeks of nonstop work, you take your sweet time to shower and dress, even after Sawamura had held you by the hips and whispered into your ear from behind you, “Don’t be too long.” before you had entered the bathroom.

 

He always knew how to get you going by saying just the right thing. You imagine he’s always been good at getting people into the right mood, considering the stories you’ve heard about his high school and college days. At the wedding, his friends Sugawara and Azumane had mentioned how Sawamura always managed to keep the airheads of the volleyball club in order and how to rile up their spirits to get excited at any point in the game.

 

Once you exit the bathroom, you see Sawamura lying casually with the duvet only pulled up to his waist, showing off his beautiful, broad chest and arms. He had foregone that tank top courtesy long, long ago. And he’s staring at you with his head lying in his hand that’s propped up on his elbow, as if he’s been watching the door expectantly for a while. You only offer a small, excited smile before hurrying over to jump into the covers beside him.

 

He catches you flush against his chest and rolls over to rest his delicious weight on top of you as he kisses you fervently. You run your hands down his smooth, muscular back and squeeze at his hips with your thighs, needing to refamiliarize yourself with his body that you’ve been deprived of. Sawamura seems to have the same idea because he pulls away to lift your shirt up over your head to throw it to the side.

 

Pressing his hands on your breasts and squeezing, he leans down again to kiss you on the mouth before moving his way down to pepper kisses along your neck and chest. Your nipple disappears in his mouth in another second, and he sucks and slides his tongue around until you’re purring like an engine. He sucks at the sides and bottom of each of your breasts as well, taking his time to paint a little color onto his favorite canvas.

 

When he feels he’s given them sufficient attention, he moves his hands down to pull his boxers off. You had been kind enough to forego the panties tonight after your shower, and you’re so glad you did because the moment you see Sawamura’s cock, hard and dribbling for you, you know you can’t wait another second to feel him against you, inside you.

 

You take him into your hand and stroke him appreciatively as you pull him back down by the neck for another kiss. He presses his cheek against yours and moans right into your ear as you continue to stroke him and flick your thumb over his head. You love the singeing heat and perfect shape of Sawamura’s cock. It’s like his size was carved to fit into your hand alone. But the heat wafting from your core is becoming unbearable on its own, so you align his tip with your entrance and wait for him to push in.

 

The connection is nauseatingly electric, a little bit of a sting because you’ve been away form each other for several weeks, but you can deal with it because having Sawamura inside of you again is like a dream come true. A dream you’ve had for far too long, and that you shouldn’t even have to fantasize about because he’s your husband. The time apart was torturous, but things have always been quite climactic between you and your husband with a bit of tension built up.

 

He slides fairly slowly into you at first, but soon, you’re moaning his name and encouraging him to drive harder against your tight, hot inner walls until you shatter. He rolls and grinds and thrusts into you until you come first, and before he can follow suit, he pulls out to turn you over. And with your face in the pillow and ass up in the air, Sawamura wraps his strong arm tightly around your waist to hold you in place while he rams into you from behind.

 

He uses his other hand to hold himself up, as well as pull at your hair while you cry his name into the pillow. “Oh, yes.” he groans against you as you clench around him until he comes deep inside of you. Kissing at your sweaty shoulders and back, he rubs and pulls at your clit until you come again around him with a muffled scream. You feel like you’re being washed over with affection and all of Sawamura’s unspoken words about his last several weeks without you.

 

And to continue expressing those feelings to you, you two continue to make love for another hour or so before admitting defeat to exhaustion. After cleaning off and replacing the sheets together, you cuddle back into each other’s arms again. Sawamura kisses you again like he can’t help himself, and you return the enthusiasm.

 

“You know what Daiki said to me recently?” he hums against your ear, his chasm-deep voice reverberates into your body, making you tingle again.  

 

“What?” you hum with a playful smile.

 

“He asked if he would ever get a sibling.” he kisses your temple with a chuckle.

 

That catches you off guard. You turn your head to look into Sawamura’s face to find an unreadable smile pulling at his lips, and you break into a bright laugh. “A sibling, huh? Is he feeling lonely or something?”

 

“I asked him, and he said that sometimes he feels left out when we’re getting lovey dovey. So he wants a companion who will understand him.” he chuckles.

 

“Then tell him to get a girlfriend or something,” you snort, “Or boyfriend. I never really asked.” your thoughts trail off for a moment, trying to remember if Daiki has ever had a crush on anyone. “Either way, he probably shouldn’t wait up.”

 

“Really?” There’s a flash of disappointment in Sawamura’s eyes, but it’s gone as quickly as it had come.

 

You run your hand up Sawamura’s firm tricep to caress his face, “Daichi, I love you, and you don’t know how many times I’ve fantasized about having a child with you.” His eyes widen in a way that can’t be described as anything but hopeful, “But it’s not the right time.” You say softly with an apologetic smile.

 

“I don’t think there’ll ever be a ‘right’ time.” he says, “Your career is never going to slow down. This is only the beginning.” he noses at your cheek, keeping his eyes on yours.

 

“You’re right.” you bite your lip, feeling a little guilty for bringing down the mood, “Well, let’s just see how serious Daiki is about this. I can think about it.” you murmur into his ear.

 

“Okay.” he smiles, kissing you again, “Maybe we could get a dog or something.”

 

You giggle from his breath tickling your neck, “Or I could spontaneously adopt a child again.” you joke.

 

“And run the risk of encountering another man who falls in love with you after trying to become a part of that child’s life again? Not a chance.” he jokes back, hugging you tighter, possessively. As silly as it is for him to be jealous over nothing but a hypothetical joke, you like this emotionally impulsive side of him.

 

Sawamura has always seemed to be the casually put-together, cookie-cutter type of man, but you know that he has many layers and complexities to him that come to life when he’s fired up. And you don’t know where you would be in your life right if he hadn’t come searching for Daiki and crashing into yours with his tight-fitting shirts and baritone voice and tender love. He came into your life as spontaneously as your son did, and you can only be thankful that your family has come together as beautifully as it has. And that you have as much love to give as you receive.

Notes:

btw if you don't follow me on tumblr, have a look at my trashy ass graduation cap

http://blushinggray.tumblr.com/post/161135722193/brought-my-sons-to-graduation-with-me

Chapter 13: Miya Atsumu - The Big Night

Summary:

a wedding, you say?? who's getting married??

Notes:

sup everyone, sorry i'm popping up now after promising you good shit to read. even more sorry to say this one is kind of plotless. idk man, a lot of my miya ideas kind of just end up going nowhere despite how much i love kansai boys. but i hope you manage to find some enjoyment through this anyway.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

“You look so beautiful.”

 

You sigh as you glide your hands along the skirt of the white fabric. A simple design, with a few white roses decorating the bodice. The bouquet is made up of the same beautiful blooming roses, with a few white beads and baby’s breath to make it look snazzy.

 

“Thank you…”

 

“Oh, come on now. Don’t tell me you’re going to leak all over this face that I painted on you for an hour.” you groan, throwing the veil over your best friend’s head to inspect your hard work.

 

“It’s just…” she chokes, fanning at herself to cool down her face and suppress her tears somehow, “I’ve never felt so happy. I can’t believe we’re both here right now.”

 

“Well believe it, sister. You are here today to get that big shiny rock on your hand and I am here to make sure you don’t embarrass yourself.”

 

She laughs shakily, still sniffing down tears, so you put both your hands on her arms, “Come on, I’ll be right up there beside you. So try to stay pretty for at least the ceremony, okay? That was an expensive highlighter, I want it to last at least that long.”

 

“You’re such a bitch.” she laughs more steadily this time, pushing you back by the shoulder.

 

“The baddest.” you flick your meticulously done curls over your shoulder before replacing your best-friend-turning-bride-turning-wife’s veil back over her face. “And I cannot wait for the banquet so I can tell such awful, humiliating stories about you to all your friends and relatives.”

 

“You fucker! You wouldn’t!” her whole face widens as she slaps you on the arm, and you laugh, wrapping your arms around her in a hug.

 

There’s only a minute left for you to joke around in the bride’s room before you have to get in your position as maid of honor. You blow her a kiss before hiking up your own dress (damn strapless) and grabbing your bouquet to follow the other bridesmaids into the chapel.

 

The other girls gush to you about how fun it is to be part of a western style wedding. You’re actually a bit surprised they had decided on one. Your best friend has always been more of the traditional, submissive type with her over-traditional, overbearing parents, but for some reason they agreed to hold the wedding with a walk down the aisle. But then again, they did allow her to be friends with you for all these years, so maybe they’re not as strict as you always assume.

 

You’re the last one to enter the room save for flower girl and the bride herself and her father. All of the groomsmen and the groom were already inside, so one by one, the girls leave you in the hall until your cue. It’s not even your wedding, so you don’t know why you’re kind of nervous.

 

But you realize, you have perfectly good reason to feel a little flustered when you enter the large chapel with benches filled to the brim with guests. You knew your best friend was popular, but damn. This many people for the ceremony? How many people are going to be there for the banquet later?

 

Although admittedly, you can’t help but smile as you walk down the aisle, following the path of the other ladies before you. You’re so, so incredibly excited to see your best friend’s face as she walks down this aisle. It’s actually quite exhilarating. And everyone looks so beautiful. All around the room you see kimonos and yukatas and dresses and suits and tuxedos and so many pretty colors and luxurious jewelry and anticipating faces.

 

The smile you were unable to hold back comes out in a giggle when you see and hear one of the bride’s nieces shout out to you. The crowd lets out their own gentle chortles as the parents bring the young girl back down to her seat. You love that little girl, and she’s always loved you.

 

When you turn your eyes back to the front, you meet acknowledging gazes with the pastor, and you notice for the first time the groom and his groomsmen. Which is ironic because you’re already close to the front of the aisle.

 

Now, you’ve seen Miya Osamu pretty often, considering he was dating your best friend for a couple of years. But you don’t think you’ve ever seen an expression as open as the one he has on right now. He’s always had sleepy eyes and a calm demeanor, and you even wondered why your friend would go for a guy that seemed so boring. But you can tell that he’s really anticipating his bride to come down the aisle.

 

And then your gaze shifts just a little to the right and you almost falter when you see a copy of Osamu’s face right beside him. It takes you another step to realize that the man standing beside him is his twin brother. Yet another ironic thing that you forgot. You’ve met Osamu quite a few times and even hung out with him, but you’ve only met his brother maybe once? And you hadn’t made much contact in preparation for the wedding either. You were so caught up in maid of honor stuff that you guess you didn’t get a chance to meet everyone properly.

 

But when you meet his gaze at your last steps down the aisle, he flashes you with eyes so playful that you wonder if he’s truly related to Osamu. What was his name again? How can there be so much expression through his eyes alone? Nevertheless, you curve your lips into a wider smile to acknowledge his gaze before turning to take your place beside the other girls.

 

Waiting for the bride is so incredibly stifling because you really want to jump up and down and cheer for her when she comes out, like an excited parent at a school performance. But you realize that today is not about just her, it’s about two people. Two people who are going to be joined together for a long time.

 

You watch carefully through the entire ceremony at the couple’s interaction. You listen to their voices, trembling with excitement in your friend’s case, looking at Osamu’s pretty blissful expression for Osamu, and just occasionally scanning the room and seeing all of the happy faces in the room. Everyone is here because they support their relationship blooming into something more, and you’re so grateful to be a part of it.

 

When the ceremony is over, you follow after the newlywed couple in pairs with the groomsmen. You’re still basking in the glow of joy for your best friend of all time when you systematically step back towards the aisle. But something changes when you meet the best man’s gaze after he offers you his arm. You’re frozen for a moment by his mischievous, smoldering eyes that are filled with intention and ambition before he tilts his head with his gentle smile to gesture towards the aisle where you two should be making your way down.

 

Clearing your throat, you take his arm and walk with him down the aisle of the chapel towards the doors. After proceeding to the garden area, a mountain of photos are taken and hands are shaken and conversations are exchanged before you send the couple off in their car so they can head to the banquet hall first.

 

The next couple of hours are still crazy busy, what with seeing to all the guests as they enter the banquet hall and changing your outfit and helping the new bride change into her outfit and just communicating back and forth with everyone. You might as well have been the assistant wedding planner for this event considering how much work you did to help the lady who was hired.

 

You cannot be more relieved when the dance floor is opened so that you can step away from the main table and have a moment of peace to yourself during the first dance. As maid of honor, you sat beside your best friend during the meal, gave your hilarious speech, and led the toast before allowing the host take over.

 

Honestly, all you want to do is take off your heels, flop onto a bed, and sleep the next week away. But you’ll settle for leaning against the large pillar along the edge of the banquet hall while you let the all the wine you ingested settle into your body. It’s a good position, not too far from the festivities that people will be concerned about where you went, but far enough away from the commotion that you won’t be dragged onto the dance floor. As much as you could be the wild child at parties, you’re pretty bushed from all the responsibilities you took on for this wedding.

 

Alas, your moment of peace is interrupted by a familiar pair of blazing, playful eyes. The pair of eyes that, despite your being overloaded with tasks, managed to find and pierce you with some magnetic tension all day. You hadn’t missed Miya Atsumu’s (you figured out his name after the reception) eyes on you throughout the day. It’s like he’s been setting up trails and hints for you all day, and now he’s finally cornered you.

 

“How’s it going, Maid of Honor?” he casually leans his back against the pillar beside you, so that your shoulders are brushing.

 

“Taking a breather. It’s like chaos has ignited, but I still need to keep it organized.” you sigh, leaning your head back to rest against the pillar.

 

“I noticed. You’re a busy woman.” His voice is so close to your ear, and you can smell hints of his cologne mixed in with the mess of alcohol and food and other guests’ perfumes. “But I can see you did a fantastic job with everything. Bride’s lucky to have you as a friend.”

 

You can’t help but smirk at that, “Damn right. Where would she be without me?” you lift your head to see the blissed out smile on your best friend’s face as she dances with her husband. “How ‘bout you? How were your best man duties?”

 

“I didn’t do much other than show up.” he shrugs, effectively sending a shiver down your spine with the friction of his bicep that’s somehow pressed a little closer against yours. You can feel his body heat coming from underneath the thin layer of his dress shirt.

 

“Oh yeah, you were the one who showed up late for the rehearsal.” your foggy brain manages to recollect a memory from the character of the past week, “I was going to whip your ass for that. But I didn’t remember who you were.”

 

“Well hey, pretty girl like you? I wouldn’t mind getting a lashing or two.”

 

And as expected, when you turn your head to meet his gaze again, he’s got that mischievous glint pointed at you like a flashlight and isn’t moving. And there’s a gracious smirk on his lips to match.

 

So in retaliation, you smirk lazily right back, giving him your sultry hooded eyelids to boot. It’s also the alcohol, but it’s mostly the tingling pressure of your body that’s pushing you towards Atsumu’s presence right now. “Well just to warn you, I don’t hold back.”

 

“Well what do you know? You might be just my type.” he leans in just a bit to press his upper arm firmly against yours, bringing his face just short of your noses touching.

 

“Sadistic?” you keep your playful smile on, finally able to keep up with his pace.

 

Atsumu’s smug grin only pulls wider across his face, “Confident.” he corrects, his breath fanning across your mouth.

 

He need say no more. He had you. And he could tell by the way your smirk just shifts into equal parts of your face to smile with a look of satisfaction. And Atsumu knows a golden opportunity when he sees one, so he takes it with his lips against yours.

 

There are not really many words exchanged between the two of you for the next ten minutes as you just continue making out, getting hotter and heavier by the second as he pulls you over to the other side of the large pillar to block the sight of you two from the crowd. You continue kissing in the shadows, starting slow and lazy so you can get a taste for all of the different wines and liquors he took advantage of at the bar, only to get surprised by his tongue in a new corner of your mouth, or his hand roaming lower against your side.

 

You love the way this dress clings to your body and makes your curves look like you could have come from the ocean, but as Atsumu gets bolder with his hands, you’re starting to resent the immobility of it. The skirt is tight, so Atsumu can’t bring his hand that’s teasing your inner thighs too high up without damaging the dress. So for now, he settles for kissing you harder, pressing you into the pillar, slowly grinding his hips against yours so you can feel the hard arousal underneath his slacks.

 

When Atsumu releases your mouth to kiss at your exposed neck and collarbones, you do your best to keep your whiny mewls to a minimum by sucking your bottom lip between your teeth. The call for the cutting of the cake is announced, which is probably better for you two since everyone’s attention will be near the center of the dance floor where the cake was rolled out. But you’re only concerned with tasting more of Atsumu right now as his hips grow more frantic against yours.

 

You’re clinging to his shirt with a grip that is weakening by the second as he nips and licks at the dip between your collarbones. You're fairly sure he's getting harder as you whimper aloud and gasp for air, and you can tell that he wants nothing more than sweet release. “Atsumu-kun…” you breathe, running your hands along his neck and down his chest until they curve down to grab at his junk. You hum in delight at the heat beneath your palm. From what you can tell through the fabric, he’s pretty thick despite being average in size.

 

Atsumu growls at your delighted expression, “Goddamn, princess. I need you in my bed.” he grunts, grinding against your hand, which you generously squeeze at to soothe him.

 

You smile lazily again before leaning up to his ear, “Lead the way. I'm not leaving tonight without a taste of this.” you punctuate with a finger that finds the small dip between his balls and strokes at it.

 

Atsumu closes his eyes with a groan this time, as if he’s in physical pain. With a little more persuasive palming through his pants, he finally gets tired of just grinding against you without any skin contact. “I am getting you out of that damn dress.” he growls as he drags you by the hand out of the main hall, up a couple flights of stairs, around a few corners, and through a random door that leads you into a random office-like room. There's a beautiful mahogany desk, a leather sofa and a few armchairs, and several shelves of reference books that look like they're for display rather than reading.

 

You had barely been able to keep up with him in your death-warranting heels so you kick them off immediately after the door is shut. When you look up again, Atsumu’s gaze is still brightly lit with desire and lust even in the dark, moonlit room. He looks like he's got too many plans in store for you to take up in one night, with the ambition sculpted into his expression. But he starts by grabbing your hips and pushing you backwards until your butt hits the desk.

 

“God, I've been waiting all day for this,” he breathes, kissing you on the mouth before moving down your neck again.

 

“All day? That's all you've been thinking about on your brother’s wedding day?” you can't help but chuckle through his kisses and bites with the slight inflation to your ego.

 

“All day.” he confirms with a voice so breathy you wonder if he's lost it to his lust, “You put the bride to shame. How could I even focus on her when you're right beside her looking this gorgeous?”

 

You grunt in pleasure as he bucks his hips harshly against yours as if to show you how much he's tortured himself waiting to make a move on you. “But now I have you all to myself.” he smirks against your cheek as his hand nimbly rolls the zipper of your dress down your back, “And by the time I'm done with you, you won't even remember your own name, sweetheart.”

 

You shiver as his breath brushes your ear and he peels your dress off of your body until it falls to the floor. You kick it off far to the side so it won't come close to being stained or stepped on during your little escapade.

 

Atsumu seems incredibly pleased with your body judging by how he can't stop running his hands all over your skin. They're all over your sides, your arms, your thighs, your ass. But he saves his mouth to suckle on the skin of your breasts. And you take that time to work on his pants.

 

It's takes a while, what with the cummerbund and your occasional pauses to gasp and press your chest closer to Atsumu’s mouth, but eventually you get the damn slacks off. You push him off of your chest and capture his mouth in yours as you start unbuttoning his shirt. He pulls you closer by the ass to press his now less restrained erection against your core. “Agh…” he groans, breaking the kiss to throw his head back.

 

You can hear him mumbling quietly about how he can't take it anymore as he pulls away and tears his shirt off of his shoulders. You can't help but lean your hands back on the surface of the desk to admire his toned body. And when he pulls his briefs off, you aren't disappointed with what you see. As you predicted, he's got an impressive girth that explains his confidence in pursuing you, and likely countless other women in the past.

 

Stalking back up towards you, you smirk patiently as his erection sits itself right between your thighs and brushes against your clothed core. His eyes aren't as playful as they first started anymore, but that doesn't stop you from teasing him a little with your own gaze.

 

Guiding Atsumu’s hands up your sides and around to your back, you let them sit there so he can unhook your bra for you. Once he pulls it off of your shoulders, you lie your back down on the desk and open your legs wider for him to fit between.

 

“Fuck…” he curses, running his hands down your now bare torso to hook his fingers on your panties, “You don't know how sexy you look right now.” There's not a falter in his step as he slides the panties down your legs and tosses them away as he moves closer to press your naked crotches together.

 

“Mmm…” you hum in satisfaction, wrapping your legs around his waist to pull him closer, “You clean?” you ask as your hips start rolling in small circles around his.

 

“Huh?” he snaps out of his dazed eyes on your touching crotches, “Oh, yeah.” he nods.

 

You pull him down by the shoulder to kiss him again, “Then you can come inside me all night long.”

 

Atsumu lets out another pained groan before slamming his forearms down on the desk on either side of your head and bucking his hips harshly against you. “Ah!” you wail with a smile, absolutely in love with the borderless friction. “Yes, Atsumu-kun….” you whine a little more dramatically than usual.

 

His mouth is all over your body again, leaving stains on your neck, collarbones, shoulders, breasts, stomach, hips. You'll be surprised if you don't look like your were splattered with wine tomorrow morning. And as he's switching between harsh and teasing sucks on your skin with his mouth, his fingers work their way into your warm cunt.

 

“Ah…” you both seem to sigh aloud, you at the entirely welcome intrusion, and him at the incredible heat that suffocates and squeezes at his fingers. He cannot wait to be inside of you.

 

“Talk to me.” you request, clenching around his fingers as you gyrate your hips against him of your own accord.

 

“Fuckin’ sexy.” he growls, “You opened your legs so fast for me, damn slut. Were you gonna just let anyone fuck you tonight? Hmm?” he thrusts with a little more power this time, “You've been stressed, so were you gonna just take whoever was first in line to fuck you open? Huh? Yeah?” he curls his fingers inside of you as he demands, “ Answer me.

 

“Atsumu-kun….” you whimper again as you claw at the desk beneath you.

 

“Tryna fuckin’ tempt me all night in those goddamn heels. And that dress, god it made me want to fuck you wide open right in the middle of the banquet hall. How'd you like that, huh?” he adds another finger and keeps his harsh movements going.

 

“Agh… Only if, ngh , you're the one who fucks me in front of everyone.” your bottom lip is trapped between your teeth as Atsumu’s hand is coated with your wet arousal. You're pressing your fingers hard against the mahogany to cope with his aggressive fingers inside you. But there is nothing you don't like about him right now.

 

Especially with that feral glint in his eyes that blows his pupils open in reaction to your words, “Fuck. You looking to steal the show, aren't ya, sweet cheeks? Letting the best man fuck the maid of honor right in front of the new couple. I bet you're getting off to the image of everyone's eyes on your tight little pussy right now.”

 

You let your hips speak for themselves in their conversation with Atsumu’s hands. Nothing but moans and whimpers and encouraging sounds come out of your mouth for a while, because Atsumu is just so good with the dirty talk. It's getting your body coiled up and eager for release, which you really fucking need after everything that's happened these past few weeks.

 

“Atsumu-kun… Inside me.” you're too impatient to wait for your first orgasm to pass to have his dick inside you. You figure you're wet and stretched enough.

 

Atsumu watches as you spread your legs wider until the sides of your knees are touching the edges of the desk, and he licks his lips with a grunt before stroking himself a bit. Using his hand to guide himself towards you, he gives you a last smirk before gliding all the way into you. “Hope you're ready, princess. I plan to have you screaming until you lose your voice.”

 

His warning isn't uncalled for. Your voice is unstoppable as his girth stretches your walls and his tip touches the back of your insides. “Shit!” you cry out, clutching for life to his arms, which are held up by his hands splayed on the desk on either side of your waist. The hard muscles and thick veins of his arms do just a little more to throw a shiver down your back, which feels fantastic with a nice cock to clench around.

 

Atsumu growls again at the sensation and starts moving, starting off slowly, and waiting for your commands to let him increase his pace. He cannot believe how fucking gorgeous you are right now. Just yesterday, when you had all met for the rehearsal, he caught sight of you and knew that you were the big catch. “Dude, she is mine.” he had announced without preamble to the rest of the groomsmen he was with at the time.

 

“The maid of honor? As if she's gonna have time for you dude. She's pretty much the assistant wedding planner for this whole thing.” one of them had said.

 

“She is quite a pretty thing though.” another one observes as you talk brightly with the film staff, still managing to look breathtaking in just a sweater and jeans. There's a communal hitch of breath when you bend down to look at the camera angle through the lower lens the camera man plans to film from, your body curving in all the right ways as you get closer to the floor.

 

“Like I said, she's mine.” he reminds the boys.

 

And now that he has you writhing and moaning beneath him on this large desk, he can't help but smirk to himself. “Atsumu-kun…! Yes! Oh, so good.” you praise as he goes just a notch faster.

 

Despite his earlier warnings, he's being generously gentle with you for the time being. His thrusts kindle a slow burn deep within his core and with your hot body squeezing him tight all over, he's finding it harder and harder to resist just going feral on you. “You want more, princess?” he checks in.

 

“Yes.” you smirk, caressing your hands up his arms, around his neck and into his hair to bring him closer to your face, “Hell yes.” you whisper again before stealing a deep kiss.

 

Atsumu moans as he snaps at you with a harsher thrust, making you bounce back on the desk just a tad. Then he smacks you with another harsh one. And yet another. Until he's resumed his pace with another notch up in power. As your kisses grow more frantic and your hands move down to hold onto his face, Atsumu’s hips grow erratic in speed and he's just driving his cock in and out of your slick, wet, heat.

 

Both of your moans mix together in a sweet whirlpool of sex and raw, dirty pleasure. You are so unbelievably turned on right now by the fact that you're being fucked on top of this beautiful desk by this incredibly attractive groomsman. You hadn't realized how wound up you were with all the stress and business until Atsumu’s touch had melted the tension away from your body. Now you're not sure if you can get enough of this feeling.

 

The hot, smooth glide of his length against your insides that contrasts with the rough, merciless power of his thrusts into you. All of that coupled with the endless sensations of Atsumu’s hands on your body, his cologne invading your nose, and his eyes fucking you as hard and intensely as his cock is. His grip on your waist is like iron that holds you in place for his cock that drives into you like a machine with his speed and grace.

 

“A-Atsu...mu…” even your whines are trembling now as you ride closer and closer to your highest point. “I'm gonna… gonna come…” And just as you're about to tip over the edge, the bastard pulls completely out of you and you feel completely robbed of everything.

 

But before you can shout “What the fuck!” in outrage, Atsumu clutches your waist and turns you over onto your stomach, leaving your backside wide open for him. Your knees hit the front of the mahogany desk in a sign of collapse, but Atsumu’s hands are right back on your waist to reinsert himself into your aching and crying walls. Or maybe you're the one crying. You can't really tell through the hiccoughs and tears.

 

Once he's back inside of you with his balls pressed against your clit, you feel such euphoria for having hope of release again. Atsumu takes the liberty of picking up both of your thighs to hold to either side of his hips to spread you wider and adjust himself deeper within you. “Goddamn…” he whispers, rubbing his sheathed cock around inside of you just to drive you a little up the wall with the wet sounds his balls make against your dripping lower lips.

 

With your hands hooked onto the other edge of the large desk, you try your best to hold yourself together as Atsumu starts driving himself into you once again. He keeps the pace unpredictable and kind of fun with his occasional teasing and praise, and you make sure to squeeze around him with at the exact moments he hits your deepest spots and pulls out. The effect is incredibly satisfying with the sound of Atsumu’s continuous groans every time he tries to pull out of your clenching walls. “Damn, baby doll, you just don’t seem to want to let me go, do ya?”

 

You both keep at this pace until you’re crying out his name in the bright flashes of light you see as you come all over Atsumu’s dick, and he continues ramming into you until he finishes behind you. It’s a long way down before both of your bodies have settled, and when you do, the feeling of Atsumu’s dick pulling out of you is excruciatingly satisfying, albeit a bit sore.

 

“Oh shit,” Atsumu breathes heavily against your back, “So good.” he praises mindlessly before lifting himself off of you. Seeing you bent over the desk with his cum dripping down your legs as you weakly whine in the aftermath of the pleasure he gave you is incredibly gratifying. He almost wants to push you onto another surface and fuck you all over again.

 

So he helps you up off the desk and starts kissing your shoulder, subtly telling you he still wants you, and you moan perfectly for him. Once you’ve caught a bit of your breath back, you start rubbing your ass against his growing hard-on, and Atsumu growls against your skin before lightly biting it. Your voice trembles and your knees collapse when his teeth sink into your shoulder, and Atsumu has to catch you in his arms to keep you up.

 

But soon, your body is folded forward as Atsumu pounds into you from behind again. His grunts sync with your moans and cries of pleasure as you continue to just fuck in all sorts of dirty, disgusting positions for another good hour or so. By the time your body has had enough (or has reached its limits; you probably could have had more of him if it was up to you), the banquet is mostly over and a majority of the guests are making their way out.

 

You have to stay back and make sure everything is running smoothly with cleanup and a last check up on everything. Just the thought of having to go back to working on this damn wedding exhausts you. You’re so happy for your best friend and her big, happy day, but this is really too much for you. At least you got an amazing lay out of it. Hopefully, your appearance is fixable enough to finish the evening off quietly without anyone noticing your prolonged absence.

 

“Thanks for tonight, Atsumu.” you run a hand down his chest before reaching up to give him a quick peck, “I’ll see you around.”

 

It makes it sounds like you don’t plan on seeing him again, and after that sensational fucking session, there is no way that Atsumu is spending the night alone. “Yeah, soon.” he pulls something out of his pocket and slips it into your dress before kissing your temple and whispering a number into your ear.

 

He smiles coolly and makes his way out of the room first, with his hands in his pockets, and he even throws you a quick wink before closing the door behind him. You pull the item out of your bra and see that it’s a room key. Quickly, you recite the number Atsumu had just whispered over and over until it’s ingrained in your tired brain. You don’t know if you’ll be able to spend the night with him after the countless mind-numbing orgasms you had just had, but you tell yourself you’ll think about it.

 

Pocketing the card again, you walk out of the door of the room and make your way back into the dining hall, determined to finish this wedding cleanly and have it over and done with.



***



“Giiiiirl!!” your best friend who finally has time for you after her honeymoon and getting completely settled into her new place with her husband of 2 months, bounds up and wraps her arms around you. “It’s so good to see you, finally. You’d think married life would make things easier but it really tires you out.”

 

“Oh, what a terrible shame that you don’t get sleep at night anymore with an exclusive and readily accessible dick in your bed now.” you roll your eyes, hugging her back.

 

“I know, right… But the good thing about it is he’ll carry me out of bed when I can’t walk.” she jokes back with a wink, and you both break out into wild laughter.

 

“Okay, let’s get moving before the restaurant runs out of tables.” you link your arm with her’s before moving down the street towards one of your favorite lunch joints since your high school days.

 

“Yes! I’m starving. But while we’re still on the topic of bomb dick, I hear that you’ve been seeing Atsumu these days, eh?” she nudges your side with her elbow obnoxiously, “Looks like we might be on our way towards legal sisterhood.”

 

“Shut up, you waning slut.” you elbow her back, and she yelps with a laugh, “We’re not there yet, but I think he’ll have a hard time letting go of me at this point.”

 

After entering the restaurant and miraculously snagging a recently emptied table, you go on to tell her about how Atsumu fucked you blind on the wedding night, during the banquet and later that evening when you had decided to go to your own room, only to scurry over to Atsumu’s  door when you realized you were feeling lonely without your roommate to gush to all night. What turned into a wild night of stress purging extended into several sexual phone calls and texting sessions until you two finally found the time to meet up again and smash like a hammer and nails.

 

You had kind of expected it to end there, but he’s been in contact with you since that first encounter. After taking you on a few dates and staying over at his place and having him over at yours and overall enjoying each other’s personalities in addition to your bodies, it’s worked out quite smoothly. Atsumu can be kind of an asshole sometimes, but you’ve got enough spirit to kick him down a few notches when you need to. He seems to like the challenge, and you kind of like him more than you expected to.

 

So now you’ve reached a point in which you hold hands just because you want to, you refer to each other as boyfriend and girlfriend, and your routines are pretty steady. If you play your cards right, as much as you don’t want to jinx anything, you might actually get the sister-in-law you’ve always wanted.

 

“Okay, I know you guys kind of just started out and everything,” your best friend tells you after your food arrives and you start to dig in, “But Osamu has been telling me how his brother has been a little different lately. And when he talks about you, it isn’t like how he talked about other women he’s been with before. So I think~ I see something good going on here, if you’re feelin’ me.” she continuously flicks her wrist to point a finger between the two of you with a shit-eating grin curling at the corners of her face.

 

“Shut the hell up and eat, bitch.” you stuff a piece of food into her mouth, “Whatever happens in the end, you’re gonna be the one doing the planning for my wedding next time, got it?”

 

She mumbles something through her full mouth and makes an OK sign with her fingers before chuckling happily. You don’t want to expect anything, but you feel something good coming on too.

Notes:

self promo right here - if you like hunter x hunter, please consider checking out my new gon/killua/oc fic :) there's more plot in there, i swear.

Chapter 14: Kita Shinsuke - Thief

Summary:

Kita Shinsuke is a high school demon hunter on a tight schedule

Notes:

What's that?? You've been deprived of new content from this thread for months?? And you need a husband???

Say no more, with this 35k demon!au should be more than just a one shot, that seemingly has dozens of analogies to the current sociopolitical climate but is actually a sorry excuse for the author to vent her infatuation with a Haikyuu character, is the story for you!

Don't be intimidated by the length of the story! Look past the (very many) flaws and inconsistencies of the demon dynamic and plot! Read on and take Kita Shinsuke as your new husband today!

 

Warning: Smut to plot ratio is woeful and lamentable. The author uses fuckboys and social themes far too casually in this product. Any associations mentioned in reference to real people or culture in history are purely fictional for the purpose of plot development and self-fulfillment. Copious amounts of time and tolerance are advised when reading this product.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Crash .

 

A chilling breeze cuts into the air and disappears as quickly as it came, dissipating into the bright morning sunlight.

 

Kita sweeps up the broken remains of the jar he just broke with the broom and dustpan that he borrows from the shrine workers. After tossing away the ceramic shards, he returns the cleaning supplies and bows to the old shrine maidens and monks, who thank him for his hard work as usual.

 

He nods politely before leaving the shrine to continue on his route to school. During the trek, he wonders what’ll be in the cafeteria today for lunch, because he’s kind of in the mood for beef. Not likely though, since quality meat in a school cafeteria is rare blessing. But small surprises like that add a little flair to his routines. As much as he likes following a daily ritual with diligent perseverance, Kita still allows room for spontaneity.

 

The chime of the school bell for their first morning break signals his usual trip to the bathroom. His body is like clockwork, always needing to do his business at the same time every day. It’s a convenient occurrence.

 

On his way back to the classroom, Kita pretty much ignores everyone crowding the hallways to talk to friends or grab snacks and drinks before class starts again. There is one thing he lets his attention linger on, though; you standing by the hallway window talking to the girls from his class. Your usual visit to your usual friends in the usual spot outside of his classroom door — another routine that Kita follows regularly.

 

It’s not like he talks to you, or even knows you for that matter. Kita doesn’t even know if you know him or of his existence. All he knows is your name and that you’re always in the same place during this morning break talking to your friends who happen to be from his class. Sometimes he also sees you eating lunch in his classroom with them too, but only if you’re there before he leaves or when he comes back from the cafeteria.

 

Oh yeah, and that you’re in the art club. He sees you carrying your sketchbook with you sometimes to share your new pieces with your friends. That’s how you made friends with the girls from his class despite how you’re a transfer student. You started at the beginning of third year with everyone else, so Kita might not have known that you weren’t a originally student at Inarizaki had some of the members of the volleyball club not mentioned it. Ojiro is in your class, so he’s the one who shared the information with the rest of the team at some point.

 

Kita honestly could care less about who you are, but you are a pretty face that he can admire on the daily since your visits are as routine as his trips to the bathroom. Other than that though, he has no reason to start any conversations or interact with you. It might break routine.

 

The rest of the school day proceeds as usual with classes, breaks, and volleyball practice before Kita heads home with Ojiro. Once they separate at their corresponding intersections, Kita makes his way home to finish his other daily routines; doing homework, eating dinner, and cleaning up before leaving the house to make his daily rounds in the neighborhood to check for weird behavior. Usually he’ll be home in time for his turn to bathe.

 

Kita always climbs back up to the shrine his grandmother has frequented since her own childhood because it has the highest view of his neighborhood in the area. He makes his way around the perimeter of the woods that the shrine is built near to scan the city over the railings from a bird’s eye view first.

 

During most of the week, the city is quiet and he can make his rounds like he’s just taking an evening walk. But there’s the occasional disturbance that he has to inspect or deal with that throws in that sprinkle of spontaneity into Kita’s routines. Sometimes the week gets busy, but usually not until after midnight, which is when someone else is usually making rounds.

 

Tonight is one of the nights that someone wants to start the party early. Kita spots several street lamps flickering off a few blocks down west. Hopping over the railing and springing down the steep grassy hill like he’s got trampolines in the soles of his feet, Kita is at the bottom in seconds before he’s sprinting over to the area he saw the lights go off. He recalls name of the restaurant on the sign that he saw before the lights went out, and he knows exactly which street it’s on.

 

He makes it to right place in two minutes flat, not too bad for someone of his caliber, and sees a fight happening outside of the bar and restaurant. A large but otherwise respectable-looking man in a white dress shirt and beige slacks is making swings at a couple of younger guys who look like fresh college graduates or new interns or something. The older man who’s attacking looks like he’s intoxicated, but Kita can see how his irises have all but disappeared behind his blown pupils — a telltale sign of a takeover.

 

Well, Kita can’t hurt the guy, so he whips out an ofuda from his pocket right away, waits until the man’s back is facing him so that the other guys won’t notice what he’s doing, and races towards the scuffle and slips the talisman into the collar of the man’s shirt. He then proceeds to slam his splayed hand against the bottom of the man’s neck where the talisman is and mutters an intent, “Begone.”

 

In seconds, Kita can feel the demonic spiritual energy leave the man’s body and chill the night air around them. The talisman burns away as well, having done its job, and the previously possessed man falls limp to his knees and onto the sidewalk.

 

“Whoa there!” the other two guys catch him by the arms and carefully lay him down on his stomach before looking up to face Kita, “What did you do?”

 

“I just hit a pressure point on his back. He should be fine in a few minutes.” Kita lies, “Are you guys okay?”

 

“Yeah, we’re fine now. Thanks to you.” one of the guys says, “It was weird. We were making some pretty good conversation with this guy earlier, but he kind of just went bonkers after the woman we were all talking to left the bar.”

 

“A woman?” Kita furrows his eyebrows. Was she the one who took over this man?

 

“Yeah, we were kind of teasing him about her since he was making googly eyes at her the whole evening.” the other guys rubs the back of his head sheepishly, “But we didn’t think he’d take it so personally. He got super mad and just started slugging at us afterwards.”

 

“How long ago did the woman leave?” Kita asks, eyes flashing with determination.

 

Determination that seems to weird these two guys out, but they answer anyway, “Uh… maybe a few minutes ago? She’s probably not far, but we don’t know if she took a taxi or anything.”

 

In the distance, several more blocks off, Kita sees another street lamp flicker off. She’s still around. “Alright, well I’ve gotta go. You guys okay looking after this guy? See if you can call someone on his phone.”

 

“Yeah, for sure. Thanks, dude.”

 

Kita doesn’t take much more time before he’s running down the street to where he saw the light turn off. As he approaches the right block, he can feel the slight chill in the air. It’s only a few degrees colder, but his body’s been trained to sense even the slightest changes in the atmosphere. A benefit of following routines to the T.

 

“Come out.” he commands to the dark, empty street.

 

No answer, but the cold air continues to drop in temperature. “I said, come out.” he pulls out a salt shaker — yes, a salt shaker — and uncaps the top to swing it out to the area around him. A generous amount of tiny white crystals flies out in a half circle to surround him until a shrill yelp of pain pipes up from the building to his right.

 

“You came prepared.” a silky female voice pipes up before a figure appears from the shadows. Without enough street lights on, Kita can just make out the curvy body and long, fluffy hair of a woman in a tight work suit. “Only the strongest purified salt can have any effect on me.” she muses.

 

Kita knows. This salt has been purified several times by the people working at the shrine, as well as his grandmother. It works like a strong pepper spray against demons.

 

“Are you the one who took away my little toy just now?” the woman asks as she steps closer in her loud heels.

 

So she is the one who took possession of that man earlier. “I don’t appreciate having to clean up others’ messes in my neighborhood.” Kita says monotonously.

 

“And I don’t appreciate having my playthings taken from me.” she retorts before striking at him.

 

Even in the semi-darkness, Kita can sense and follow her attacks like he can receive a volleyball; pretty well. He uses his forearm to block the strike of her hand before it can reach his face, and uses his other arm to slam a fist into her side, knocking her to the ground.

 

She grunts as she crumples to the floor, but quickly gets to her feet again, “You’re not an amateur, are you, boy-ya…” she snarls. And in the faintly lit street, he sees something long and fluffy grow from her backside. A tail, and a bushy one at that.

 

Without a moment’s notice, he lurches forward to send a blow to her belly with his palm. Having caught her off balance, the force is enough to throw her back several meters into the light of the next street lamp. Now, Kita can see that she is a fox demon, with the red-orange tail and ears that pop out of her thick orange hair. The red pupils in her black eyes are starting to glow with the emotional stir as she snarls at him.

 

Rolling onto her hands and feet, her legs and arms transform and grow the same orange and white fur as her tail underneath her pencil skirt and blazer. And her face elongates into a white snout as well. The air drops several degrees, and Kita’s body is on alert.

 

The fox-woman jumps at him but he ducks and uses the momentum to swing a kick up and over into her side, knocking her to the ground once more. And she rolls over to mount herself on her four paws once more. A persistent one. Usually weaker demons are choking on the floor after a few of his stronger hits. And Kita used a lot of his power in those last two strikes.

 

She’s fast too. She has pinned him down to the ground with her paws on his shoulders before he even realized it. But Kita manages to kick her off before she can get a bite in. This might take too long if she’s still not taking any damage from his hits. So pulling a needle out of the stripes of his athletic brand shoes, he waits for the fox demon to strike at him again to drive the purified holy needle into her furry neck.

 

They land on the ground, but she’s howling in pain. The needle that’s been bathed in holy water and coated with purified salt to dry several times is an effective spell to temporarily incapacitate the demon so Kita can roll over and pin down the fox-woman to the ground. Slapping another ofuda onto her exposed neck, Kita growls the same banishment spell, “Begone.”

 

If Kita’s knees weren’t pinning down her arms, then maybe she might have gotten away from this exorcism with part of her spirit still intact, because the way she writhes and screams in pain as her body deteriorates has a lot of force in it. But Kita is too smart for that, and he never leaves holes for demons to crawl out of.

 

The small hand-sized jar is already open and collecting the black demonic energy inside. Once the body of the fox-woman has disappeared completely from beneath him and the air starts to warm up again, he caps the bottle shut tightly and slips it into his pocket before going on his way back around the neighborhood again.

 

The street lamps flicker back on behind him, the wind blows the salt crystals away, and the night air is back to its natural chill. It’s as if nothing happened.



*



Crash .

 

The dying remains of yet another demon Kita caught and trapped a few weeks ago dissipates into the morning sunlight after the jar is broken open in the back of the temple. He sweeps up the shards with the broom and dustpan and disposes of them before nodding to the shrine workers thanks and taking his leave again.

 

Climbing down the stairs of the hilltop shrine, he continues on his way to school per his usual routine. Coming to this shrine each morning to break a jar and banish a weakened demon’s spirit that he caught the week before is as commonplace as making his bed or brushing his teeth.

 

The one he broke open and let disappear into the burn of daylight this morning was the wolf demon Kita had caught a couple weeks ago. Almost destroyed a children’s playground before Kita was able to save the child who was being targeted by the demon.

 

The kid was traumatized, but Kita was able to kick and beat down the thing before slapping a paper talisman to its head and capturing its exorcised spiritual energy into another small holy jar to trap it in its weakened state. He keeps those small perfume bottle-looking jars on him at all times, like his family taught him to. It’s come in handy more times than he can count.

 

And so goes the routine of waiting a week or so for the demon spirit to weaken to the point of almost dying in the jar before he breaks it open to let natural daylight dispel its remnants. Being able to catch and dispel supernatural beings as easily as he attends school or plays volleyball is really what makes him so stoic. When he’s been desensitized to evil spirits that can tear apart human flesh with their teeth or possess and control people and animals to do their bidding, final exams and volleyball nationals just don’t do it for him.

 

Not when there are demons living among humans and causing mayhem all over the place. His family has long been part of one of the secret associations that handles demon misdemeanors, and his grandmother was quite the warrior during her time. She taught him practically everything he knows about fighting, trapping, and killing demons, as well as many other religious things. But he tries to keep the most practical things at the forefront of his mind.

 

His friends and teammates at school all see him as such a creature of routine, like he’s a robot. In reality, he’s built up his physical and mental fortitude to be ready for any situation through diligent practice and ritualization of his training. Sure, it’s not like he gets stronger or anything compared to some other demon hunters or more serious volleyball players, but he gets the job done when he needs to.  And he may need to at the drop of a hat. Demons hide in all sorts of guises these days, so he has to be prepared for anything.

 

But there are some demons that Kita can’t beat up and trap in a jar, no matter how much he wants to. Shiozaki Touma is one of them, and he just so happens to have been in Kita’s class for the past three years of high school. He’s the loudmouth class clown who’s always got his feet up on the desk and hits on girls more often than he picks up a pencil. He became captain of the baseball team this year, and he’s actually quite popular with the student body. People are saying hi to him all the time.

 

Kita would think that such a popular guy wouldn’t have much to dislike about, but he has been proven wrong oh-so many times. Through the several group projects they had together where Kita did the majority of the work, the way Shiozaki cut him in line at the cafeteria several times without his permission, the way he inadvertently disrespects his underclassmen and most of the girls he hits on. There are just so many little things about him that make Kita want to dissociate him with the human race just so he can dispel the guy and let him burn into the sunlight like all the other demons.

 

Alas, he’s got not a drop of demon blood in him, so Kita can only deal with the endless disruptions to his routine that Shiozaki inflicts. Today’s being that he’s got his butt sitting atop Kita’s desk when he walks into the classroom. “Hey, Kita-kun! How’s it going!” He shouts obnoxiously with a raised arm when Kita just stares at him.

 

“May I have my seat back?”

 

“Ehh? Don’t be such a spoilsport, I can’t sit here and hang out with you for once?” He complains, slapping what he must believe to be a friendly hand on Kita’s back.

 

“I would rather you not sit on my desk without my permission.” Kita explains patiently.

 

“Tch… Meanie.” Shiozaki pouts before plopping off of Kita’s desk and turning his attention to one of the girls who sits in the next row.

 

Kita sighs as he sets his stuff down and pulls out the correct textbook and notebook for his first class this morning. Luckily, there aren’t too many more disruptions before the first morning break today, so he’s still in his calm state of mind.

 

However, on his way back to the classroom from the bathroom, when he expects to see you chatting with your friends as usual, there’s another small change to the routine. Shiozaki is talking among your group of friends and obviously trying to warm up to you by flirting and casually touching you on the arm and shoulder.

 

You only laugh and brush off his touch politely, but it’s a clear rejection from anyone’s point of view. Kita turns into his classroom before anyone can see the slight smirk that grows on his face. But soon, he settles back into his stoic expression as if he didn’t just have a rather catty thought.

 

Lunch comes and goes, but it seems that you’re late getting back to your class, because you’re still scrambling to clean up your lunch box and other homework materials when the warning bell rings and Kita returns to his desk. You’ve got all your stuff in a pile in your arms before you say bye to your friends and run out into the hallway back to your own classroom.

 

Kita is about to rummage through his bag that hangs from the side of his desk when he notices a large sketchpad leaning against the leg of his chair. Picking it up, he notices there's no name written on the book itself, so he starts flipping through the pages to look for a signature. It’s an impressive collection of drawings. Some are done in pencil, some in pastel, but the majority of them seem to be done with charcoal.

 

There are all kinds of images that range from three-dimensional shapes, to human bodies, to plants and animals, to furniture, and clothing. But there are a small handful that pop out to Kita as he flips through them absentmindedly. One of them being an impressive sketch of a shrine from the entrance. Kita knows this one. It’s not in his neighborhood, but it’s only a few miles away from the school. He’s been there once or twice with his grandmother to pay his respects to other association members.

 

The next page is a portrait. An impressive one, because Kita can distinguish the person’s face to the point that he recognizes him. It’s a man with a rugged look and beard, wearing what looks to be monk robes. He’s one of the people who works in the shrine that was drawn on the previous page. Strange. Does this artist visit him at the shrine often or something? The details are remarkable.

 

When he turns the page over, there’s something drawn on the back of the portrait. Which is a first, since none of the other sketches have anything drawn on the backside. What’s even stranger is that the drawing on this side is of a holy jar. Like the ones that Kita uses to capture demon spirits and store them in their weakened state to die out.

 

Like the portrait of the man on the other side, the jar is drawn with incredible detail, and Kita can see all the special designs made on the bottle. Most of the ones Kita uses himself are simple in design, with just a few stripes or patterns to keep the demon locked inside like a cage. But more powerful and expensive jars that have kanji or picture designs on them house more powerful demons. Some can even hold more than one.

 

This one in particular has several binding loops wrapped around the roundish cylinder body, as well as a string of kanji written vertically along one side that reads the idiom, ‘One Stone, Two Birds.’ Could it be one of those special holy jars that’s trapped two powerful demon spirits into one vessel?

 

Why is a picture of this in here anyway? Sometimes, the holy jars are put on display at the temples, but usually never strong ones like this. Is the artist a resident at this shrine or something? How else would they be able to access this jar to the point of being able to copy its details to this caliber?

 

Kita flips on. The strangely familiar images stop there, and it’s back to fruit bowls and rough model poses again. The last sketch is of a necklace. Most of it is done in what looks like charcoal, but Kita realizes that it’s pastel when he sees the only spot of color is the dull gleam of the jewel hanging down the middle of all the beads. The artist drew it hanging from a female neck and lets the sketch fade out from the chest and upper arms where the necklace ends.

 

After flipping through the last pages, he still has yet to come up with a name to identify the artist. So he calls out to one of the girls in the art club, “Does this belong to one of you?”

 

“Hm?” one of the girls takes the sketchpad curiously, flipping through the pages, “Oh, this belongs to [Surname]-chan. She must’ve forgotten it because we were rushing to finish studying for the quiz today. Thanks, Kita-kun. I’ll get it back to her after school.”

 

“No problem.” he replies easily before turning back to pull out his materials.

 

So it’s you who drew all of those impressive things. You’ve got some skill to be able to capture all of the details he saw in your sketchbook. And you’ve also got some sort of connection to the shrine that man works at. There’s something about this information that tickles at the back of his mind, but he’ll contemplate over them later.



*



Kita asks his grandmother about the shrine a few miles down from school, and she knows of it. “Ah, you’re talking about the Ebita Shrine. It’s a branch of an imperial shrine, one of the oldest in the country. It has a lot of resources and is one of the main branches of the protection committee we work with.”

 

“And what about that man who works there? The one with the beard.”

 

“You mean Souichiro-kun?” she raises her eyebrows curiously, “Oh yes, he’s one of the main pillars of the committee. A top notch demon hunter of his generation.” she smiles proudly. “You could visit him sometime, get some tips and advice. He has plenty of experience.”

 

Kita doesn’t have the leisure of time to do that, but he’ll keep it in mind if he ever needs to address something in the future. There hasn’t been anything in his own neighborhood that he can’t handle yet. Even if something challenging did happen to appear, he could probably handle it swiftly like he has everything so far.

 

The next morning, when he arrives to school, he’s blocked off from his classroom because Shiozaki is taking up the door to talk to his friends. He sighs internally before he approaches the douche. “Excuse me.”

 

“Excuse me.” Another voice syncs with Kita’s from the inside of the classroom, on the other side of the door that Shiozaki is blocking.

 

“Whoa!” he backs up and moves from the doorway like a curtain to reveal you standing behind it. “No need to gang up on me, guys.” he jokes.

 

Ignoring him, Kita and you look at each other and yield simultaneously, “Go ahead.” you both say.

 

You smile sheepishly, a small chuckle sighing off your lips at the pure synchronization, so Kita beats you to the next punch, “Go ahead first.” he insists, stepping aside.

 

“Ah, thank you.” you bow quickly, dashing past the doorway into the hall.

 

Kita is about to walk inside next, but you stop him, “Uhm, Kita-kun, right?”

 

He turns only his head to look at you, “Hm?”

 

“Oh, I just wanted to thank you… For finding my sketchbook yesterday. It means a lot to me.” you giggle in that soft, feminine way that he can see charm in.

 

“No problem.” he replies simply before walking further into the classroom to his desk.

 

“Ah! So cold, Kita-kun!” Shiozaki calls after him before turning his attention back to you, “You’re so very sweet, [Surname]-chan. I can feel the warmth of your sincerity.”

 

“Huh? Oh… uh huh.” you make some noncommittal reply before disappearing down the hall with Shiozaki still calling after you.

 

Yet again, Kita feels himself smirking at your complete disregard of his annoying classmate. He doesn’t know why he’s so smug about it. Maybe he’s just amused seeing Shiozaki not getting something he wants for once.

 

You’re quite sought after, Kita has noticed. Sometimes he hears the boys whispering about you in the halls or during breaks, and he’s seen a number of the more courageous ones like Shiozaki actually walk up to you in an attempt to interact, only to be politely let down thereafter.

 

Honestly, he can understand why. You’re like a perfect maiden of chastity that all of these brutes want to either mess up bathe in the purity of. There’s a softness about you in the way you speak, hold yourself, laugh, eat, and everything else. Even Kita can admit that it’s cute; attractive, even. Which is probably also why he’s so smug that you had taken the time to talk to him while you blew off someone as annoying as Shiozaki.

 

Now he’s starting to get a bit immature. His grandmother is always encouraging him to act more like an adolescent, but he tries not to get too caught up in drama that isn’t necessary. His life is busy enough without beef with schoolmates. And he prefers not to add too many unpredictable factors to his routines.

 

Kita ends up coming back to the classroom a little earlier today when he’s finished with lunch. You’re still there with your friends, and to Kita’s chagrin, Shiozaki is there having a loud conversation with his own friends. At Kita’s desk. Again.

 

His teammates in the volleyball club tell him that he emits a scary aura sometimes. Maybe he does, but it’s all for the benefit of the team to achieve victory in the best way possible. Perhaps he comes off as more intimidating as he intends, but it works out in the end.

 

Shiozaki must sense this scary aura of his today because once he spots Kita, he hops off of his desk and mutters a brief apology before sitting somewhere else. Kita is grateful for such a smooth transaction, and he takes his seat easily with an internal satisfaction.

 

“Hey, Shio. You wanna hang out this weekend?” one of Shiozaki’s friends asks, “I got the new game from my cousin.”

 

Shiozaki groans in his loud, obnoxious way before sighing, “Dude, I wish. I gotta help my dad out this weekend. His workplace has this new exhibit coming in from Africa or something and I have to help him set up everything.”

 

“Ehh…” his friends groan in unison.

 

“Yeah, sucks.” Shiozaki shrugs.

 

“Shiozaki-kun.” Your voice pops up, catching everyone’s attention, from his friends’ to your friends’ to Kita’s. He’s pretending not to notice, of course, as he stares blankly at one of his textbooks. “When you say exhibit, do you mean a museum exhibit?”

 

“Huh?” Even Shiozaki seems to be taken aback by how you approached him first, “Oh, well yeah. My dad works at the museum in the city.”

 

“The one that’s going to hold the Yorubaland exhibit in next month?” your voice is laced with excitement and you’re sitting straight and attentive in your seat.

 

“Huh? Oh, uh… yeah? Something like that? I’m not sure. My old man is just making me help out before the exhibit opens to the public.” Shiozaki replies cluelessly.

 

“Does he want help? I’d love to volunteer! I’ve been looking really forward to this exhibit. I’d really love to help out and see all the pieces myself.” you clutch your hands together as you gush.

 

“You would? Well, I mean, I can ask, but usually unauthorized volunteers aren’t allowed near the special exhibits. I’m only helping out because I’ve been doing it for years.” Shiozaki says in a way that sounds like he’s bragging. An amusing tone to use when he was clueless just a second ago.

 

“Oh, that’s so cool. I really wanna see it so, so bad.” you sigh blissfully, like your drifting off into daydreams of it, “Yoruba culture is just so cool. All their artwork is really inspiring. I’ve been copying photos of their clothing and jewelry online, but I want to see the real thing, you know?” you’re gushing to your friends about it now.

 

“Oh, were those the things you’ve been drawing lately, [Surname]-chan? They were beautiful.” one of them comments.

 

“Aren’t they? Here, look at these.” You’re pulling up photos on your phone to show them when Shiozaki loudly clears his throat to gain your attention again.

 

“Well! I mean, even if you can’t help set up the exhibit, I think I can… pull a few strings and get you an exclusive first look at it. You know, before it’s released to the public.” he leans back in the chair he’s sitting on to smirk at you. He’s like a peacock, showing off all his colors at once.

 

“Could you really?” you sound incredibly interested.

 

“Of course, it would have to be a private affair. Don’t want to advertise that this highly anticipated exhibit has a VIP pass, right?” he reasons, clearly steering the conversation in a direction that will benefit his ulterior motives, “I can take you to see it, but probably after the museum closes on Sunday afternoon. So what do you say we grab some lunch first? My treat.” Kita sees Shiozaki wink from his peripheral, and he has to physically stop himself from rolling his eyes.

 

“You’re really going to take me to see the exhibit? Really, really?” your voice rises with your thrill.

 

“Really, really.” he confirms in a smooth voice.

 

“Then let’s do it!” your giggle chimes like a bell, capturing all ears and hearts that hear it. “I’ll be looking forward to it, Shiozaki-kun.”

 

“R-Right.” he clears his throat, face a little pink at how cute you are.

 

Well, so much for you overlooking Shiozaki’s existence. The guy’s friends are giving him dumbfounded looks and hitting him in the chest, both happy for him and envious of him at the same time. And he just laughs smugly in return.

 

Kita finally looks up from his textbook to glance at the door that you’re now leaving through as the warning bell rings. He wonders how your date is going to turn out.



*



How did he end up here to find out?

 

It’s Sunday afternoon, and Kita is walking around one of the European exhibits a gallery away from where you and Shiozaki are. He got here about an hour ago, but you two only just arrived about twenty minutes ago.

 

But god damn, even twenty minutes from afar, Kita feels like he’s going to get a headache from how stupid Shiozaki is. He’s not a terrible guy, but his complete ignorance and lack of cultural knowledge despite the fact that his family facilitates this vast and lucky museum grinds on Kita’s nerves.

 

He can tell that you’re biting down on your own patience as well. Whenever Shiozaki makes a birdbrained or downright imbecilic comment about something, you just laugh it off and attempt to correct him. Like when you two were looking around at all the impressively three-dimensional still life paintings, and you were trying to educate the dunce about the trompe l’oeil “fool the eye” style, he just made some stupid remark about how he wants to try biting into the bread.

 

Or how he’s been blatantly staring at the paintings and statues of naked women whenever he passes by them. When he saw that you noticed him staring, he tried to play it off, but you had just chuckled, “You have quite the eye for beautiful things.” before explaining to him about the different goddesses or historical figures depicted in the pieces.

 

Kita couldn’t take much more of his idiocy and disappeared into another gallery to sigh out his frustration. Honestly, he doesn’t even know why he’s here spying on the two of you. He has other things he could be doing, and yet, he’s mindlessly following you guys to see if he’ll get an opportunity to laugh if the date fails.

 

Shiozaki gets on Kita’s nerves, but you’re holding out pretty well for the special Yorubaland exhibit. From what he’s seen, you’ve been more tolerant at the passes Shiozaki has been trying to make at you; letting him lead you by the waist, whisper into your ear, and stand closer to you than usual. It’s kind of disgruntling to see how transparent Shiozaki’s motives are, but Kita figures that he can interrupt if the situation ever gets serious.

 

Eventually, the security guards announce the museum’s closing for the day, and people beginning leaving in floods. Kita moves swiftly and confidently as he walks around the blind spot of the security guard right into the hallway that leads underground to the where the special exhibit is being set up. He finds a spot to hide as he waits for you and Shiozaki to come down.

 

The two of you arrive about ten minutes later, and Shiozaki leads you by the waist towards the many artifacts that are set up on the walls or in glass cases. Kita ignores Shiozaki’s smug introduction as you walk forward, gasping in awe at the exhibit, “Oh my goodness, this is so exciting! Thank you so much, Shiozaki-kun.”

 

As annoying as Shiozaki can be, Kita has to admit that you’re rather endearing when you’re immersed in something you’re interested in. He leans back on the wall that keeps him out of your view but allows him to see you guys, crossing his arms silently. You’re talking excitedly about all the different things you’re reading from the plaques that explain the significance of the pieces on display.

 

Shiozaki just lingers around and lets you have your fun, waiting for the right moment to approach you. But you’ve stopped at a certain display for quite a while now, and when Kita leans a bit to the side, he sees that you have an intense gaze on the wooden statue you’re staring at through the glass casing. There’s a… ravenous hunger in your eyes that he can see reflected on the glass that he hasn’t seen on you all day. Or at all, in fact.

 

You look like you’re about to press your face against the glass when Shiozaki steps beside you to interrupt, “You like this one or something?”

 

“Yes, this is a famous priestess in Yoruba culture, and I like how she looks.” you say, struggling to keep your voice steady in… excitement? It borders on the edge of bewitched.

 

“Funny, I think that’s what I’ve thought about you all day.” he steps closer, putting himself between you and the glass casing. “But I think you’re so much more beautiful.”

 

“Shiozaki-kun…” you say, sounding somewhat uneasy.

 

“So very beautiful.” he caresses your cheek and moves your hair out of your face before moving in to kiss you.

 

Wow, is Kita really going to watch this? This is not what he came here to see. Not that he knew what he did come here for, but he should probably give you guys your privacy regardless. He rolls over to the other wall to keep the sight of you two making out out of his view. Kita doesn’t hear any sounds that indicate struggle or rejection, which kind of disappoints him because he was silently hoping for some dejection on Shiozaki’s part.

 

But suddenly, there’s a tingle on Kita’s skin at the small chill that invades the room. He’s alert. As silently as possibly, he turns his head this way and that to observe anything that might indicate a demonic presence, because he cannot allow either of you to fall victim to a demon’s bidding or feeding.

 

But the slight chill is gone as quickly as it had appeared. Like most fleeting demon encounters he has before he has to chase them down. This one might not have been very powerful since none of the light bulbs went off, but what was it doing here anyway? Daylight is still out, so demons shouldn’t be able to move that freely at this time.

 

Cautiously, he sticks his head past the wall to see if either you or Shiozaki has noticed anything, but all he sees is the sight of you two still kissing. Blech.

 

Well, he can’t tell if it’s really a kiss. Shiozaki seems to be putting in all the effort. You don’t look like you’re particularly enjoying it, but you’re not pushing him away either, so Kita really doesn’t know.

 

But after some time, you finally push away from him and bring your voice up again, “Uhm… maybe we should go.”

 

“Sure, we can go.” Shiozaki agrees, likely glad to be out of this place that holds too much knowledge for him to fathom, “Want to hang out at my house? It’s not too far from here. We can continue this there.” his voice sounds pathetically hopeful.

 

“Actually, I was hoping to go back home now. I really want to sketch down some of these things I saw today before I forget them. I might not be able to see them again until the exhibit opens officially.” you reject politely.

 

Shiozaki continues to try coaxing you to follow him, but eventually gives up when you grow more adamant about leaving. After the two of you make your way back up to the main lobby of the museum through the hallway, Kita treads over to the wooden statue of the priestess you had been so enamored with.

 

The design is very tribal looking, and Kita can see the charm in it, he supposes. There are a couple other figures in this carving as well, and their details are just as intricate as the priestess’. Kita looks down to read the plaque, and a phrase catches his attention, “The amulet on the necklace she wears was believed to ward off unholy energy and could possibly have been used for exorcisms.”

 

He glances up at the statue again, then down at the plaque where a photo of the wooden sculpture is also printed beside the captions. Then back at the statue.

 

There is no necklace.

 

The wooden statue that is supposed to be wearing a necklace with an amulet, as it does in the photo, is not there in the case with the sculpture. He circles the glass casing to see if the necklace was dropped anywhere inside, and finds nothing.

 

Kita flashes back to the brief chill in the room. A chill that usually indicates the movement of demonic spiritual energy. And then he flashes further back… to the look you had in your eyes when you were staring at the statue. And then he flashes back even further… to the sketch of the necklace from your sketchbook. It looked… almost exactly like the one shown in the photo.  

 

He runs out of the exhibit and up into the hallway to catch you and Shiozaki before you leave, and he sees the both of you making your way towards a side door of the museum. In a flash, he’s there behind you with a hand on your shoulder, turning you around to look at him.

 

“Kita-kun?” you gasp, “What are you doing here?”

 

“Kita? The hell are you doing here?” Shiozaki also interrogates. “The museum’s closed. How’d you get in here?”

 

Kita ignores both of your questions and stares coldly into your eyes, “I think you have something that doesn’t belong to you.”

 

“Eh?” you say in a quiet, dumbfounded voice.

 

Kita doesn’t let up on his cold glare and keeps his hand on your shoulder. You stutter in confusion, “Kita-kun… what are you talking about?”

 

“Yeah dude, what are you talking about?” Shiozaki demands, “Don’t touch her like that without asking.”

 

Kita kind of wants to make a retort about how Shiozaki has been touching her all day without her permission, so he’s not one to say such a thing. But he has to stay focused on the task at hand. “Return it.” he commands in his stern, captain voice.

 

“Wait… I honestly don’t know what what you’re talking about, Kita-kun…” you step back like you’re afraid of him.

 

Before you can argue further, he flips up the flap of your small bag to dig his hand inside and pull out the worn beaded necklace that has a faded, stone amulet hanging from it. The one that was resting on the sculpture of the Yoruba priestess.

 

“Wait…” Shiozaki pauses, “That’s… from the exhibit… How did you…” he looks down at you with all sorts of questions running through his mind. “And Kita, how did you know…?”

 

Kita takes the hand that’s still on your shoulder to swift grab the salt shaker from his pocket, sliding the cap off in less than a second to throw a dash of salt at your exposed arm.

 

And as expected, you shout in pain, bending down and clutching at your arm with your other hand to see the area that was touched by the salt is blemishing. In another second, you stare up at him to growl angrily before striking at him with your good arm.

 

He blocks your blow, but you’ve got more power than he had expected for such a young-looking demon. Pushing your blow back, he pockets the necklace before blocking yet another strike from your arm. And then a kick. And then jab.

 

Kita meets every single one of your strikes with a block of his own to gauge how powerful you actually are. It seems that you have a lot of latent power, but not a lot of combat experience. Which goes to show with how you haphazardly knock out Shiozaki as you’re pulling back.

 

In normal circumstances, Kita would try to save civilians within the range of danger, but he doesn’t seem to have the same sense of urgency this time. Not when you’re such a fighting novice, at least. Kita is easily able to knock you back and pin you down to the floor. “Get off of me!”

 

“What’s your purpose in trying to steal this demon banishing amulet?” Kita interrogates as he hovers above you, hands holding your wrists above your head and ankles shackling your shins.

 

“It’s not for banishing demons. I wouldn’t be able to touch it if it were.” You retort petulantly.

 

“So enlighten me. What is it for?” Kita muses.

 

This time, you huff and turn to face the side. Kita would like to take the time to admire your side profile in a position like this, but he needs answers, so he presses more strength into your wrists, “What. Is it for.” He puts more force into his question.

 

“Ow, ow.” You yelp, “Let up! Jeez. It has a neutralizing effect on any spells, demonic or holy.”

 

“And why did you need this so badly that you had to steal it?”

 

“Is that your business?”

 

“I can easily exorcise you right now if you don’t feel like giving me answers.” he threatens casually.

 

“Aren’t you going to do that to me anyway?” You snort, “What’s the point of revealing information if I’m going to meet the same fate.”

 

“You seem to know how these things work.”

 

“Because that’s all you hunters ever do! Trick us into thinking you’ll give us a chance when you interrogate us, and end up killing us anyway! You’re the demons, if anything.” You shout fiercely.

 

“We’re the ones trying to protect people from evil, not spreading it.” Kita replies calmly.

 

“Shut up!” You yell, outraged, “I may be a thief but I’m not evil! I’m just trying to help my family!”

 

The expression on your face is one of pure anger, like you’ve been wronged. Kita feels his heart falter, but he reminds himself to keep his physical grip firm, “Your family.” He repeats.

 

“Yes, my family. Demons happen to have those too.” You speak slowly and mockingly.

 

“Where is your family?”

 

“Trapped in a jar by one of your hunter friends.” You grumble, looking away from Kita’s face again.

 

The jar from your sketch flashes from his memory. Is that the one that your family is trapped in? “ One stone, two birds …” he recites absently.

 

“How do you know that?” You ask angrily.

 

Kita stares down at you, deadpan, “Your sketchbook.”

 

You curse to yourself before trying to struggle out of his grip again, and it’s actually quite a challenge to keep you held down with your strength. “So what? You gonna kill me now?”

 

Good question. Should he? He’s never come across an experience where he’s had to give a demon a fair trial before executing them. “It’s protocol, but you don’t seem like you do this often.”

 

“Of course not! Some of us are just trying to embed ourselves in society without stirring trouble. But you guys never give us a chance to speak.” You hiss.

 

“Why speak when your actions do that for you? All the demons that I’ve encountered had it coming to them.”

 

“You see what you want to see.” You roll your eyes.

 

“Well, what I see right now is a thief who manipulated a high school student into sneaking her into a closed exhibit in order to embezzle an ancient, African treasure.” He spells it out for you.

 

“I was going to return it once I was done with it.” You sigh exasperatedly.

 

That gets Kita to smirk, “A likely story.”

 

“I was! If it didn’t get damaged, at least.” you pout, still looking to the side. “I really was just going to borrow it.”

 

“And once you did, what were you going to do with it? How is this amulet supposed to help you save your family?” Kita continues to interrogate.

 

You heave a sigh, like you’re being lectured by a parent or something, “I was going to use it to open the jar that my parents are trapped in. The amulet would neutralize the holy spell on the jar and allow me to touch it.”

 

Interesting. It’s true that demons cannot touch things that have been purified, which is why they can’t free other demons that are trapped in the holy jars on their own. Once sealed, they’re trapped inside. By breaking the jar physically, the spell that seals the demon’s spirit inside will cause it to tear apart with the jar. If someone were to open the jar the traditional way, that would allow the demon an escape passage since the spell is no longer completely sealed inside.

 

So systematically, if you were to throw a rock or something to break the jar that houses your parents, that would cause them harm and they likely would not make it out alive. But if you could somehow neutralize the holy spell of the jar like you said, then you would be able to unseal the vessel yourself and free whoever is trapped inside.

 

However, the fact remains that they were sealed up in the first place. In an incredibly powerful jar nonetheless. Whoever had the run-in with your parents must have deemed them as a danger, which is why he captured them in the first place. Kita knows it’s probably cruel to force you to let your family die, but there are too many unknown factors going on here.

 

Not to mention that none of that excuses the fact that you were willing to steal something valuable in order to go through with this plan. “Kita-kun, they did nothing wrong.” you interrupt his thoughts to say. You’re finally looking back up at him, with determination shining in your eyes. “They have powerful spirits, which is possibly why they always try so hard to stay under the radar. But they did nothing wrong.”

 

Why should he believe you? He doesn’t know why they were captured. Should he investigate to find out? “Even if they’re innocent, you’re the one who was willing to commit a crime. You’re not in any position to persuade me.”

 

“But!” your eyes look devastated. Kita actually feels kind of sorry for you. But the determination returns with a fervor, “Fine then. Take the necklace back. I’m not even sure if it would still have worked anyway. But I need to help them.”

 

“And just how do you plan on doing that if you don’t have the amulet?” Kita raises an eyebrow at you.

 

“You’re part of that secret demon-hunting society aren’t you? Kita-kun, if you have a connection to that shrine, then you can do whatever you want to me. But please, I need your help. If you’re not going to let me free them myself, then I need your help. Please. They don’t have much time.”

 

Your words sound earnest, and your eyes match your words, but demons have always been known to be conniving and fantastic actors. Kita isn’t the type to break routine, and giving you the benefit of the doubt just because you’re a familiar face he’s seen all year doesn’t change the fact that you are indeed a demon.

 

“And just why do you think that I would help you?” he’s genuinely curious.

 

“Come on, Kita-kun. We’re gone to school together all year. I haven’t done a single thing that made you suspect that I was dangerous to anyone.” you argue. And Kita has to admit that it’s true. He had never suspected you or sensed any demonic spiritual energy coming from you, let alone seen you as dangerous.

 

“And neither has my family, I can guarantee you that.” you continue, “My father is a banker and my mother works at a hair salon. Everyone who knows them will probably have good things to say about them. The only reason we moved here this year is because we were being hunted in our previous city. Also for no good reason! Once they just found out what we were, they assumed the worst and chased after us until they drove us out of town. You can’t tell me that you think that’s fair.”

 

Kita doesn’t say anything. Because if what you’re saying is true, then yeah, it really is unfair to you. But who has ever heard of a powerful demon family trying to hide out in society without ulterior motives?

 

“It’s true that you haven’t caused any trouble up until this point. Not that I know of, at least.” he acknowledges, and finally pulls his weight off of you to stand up. He has a strong feeling that you won’t just get up and run away. “But what good would it be to help you? I don’t have a reason, nor an interest to.”

 

“Then why did you come here today?” you pin him with the question, shooting up into a sitting position. He was not expecting to be called out like that. “I know you knew that Shiozaki-kun and I had a date today. I know you’re an observant guy, Kita-kun. You were there when we made the plans. Why did you show up and follow us into the Yorubaland exhibit?”

 

“Maybe I was interested in the exhibit too.” he lies.

 

“Bullshit.” Wow, it’s interesting to hear such a harsh word come from your pretty mouth like acid. “You clearly don’t like Shiozaki-kun, but that’s not enough of a reason to follow us all the way here after closing hours. Admit it, Kita-kun, I’ve caught your interest a bit, haven’t I?”

 

“What makes you say that.” he feigns ignorance with his stone-cold poker face.

 

You scoff as you stand up as well, “You’re not a machine, Kita-kun. I can tell that you’d be as easily enamored with me as the next guy if you just let yourself. Come on,” you step forward to boldly put your hands on his shoulders, “I could really use your help. I’ll do anything you want to get my family back. Just say the word, and I’m all yours.” Your hands trail down from his shoulders to his chest, and descend slowly.

 

Kita is hard as steel. This is a common strategy of persuasion demons use; seduction. He’s encountered this far too many times. It would likely have more of an effect on him if you actively used your hypnotic abilities, but he supposes you’re trying to be earnest in your efforts. Either that, or you’re just not very used to this. You’re not even giving him anything resembling a sultry look, just an innocent pleading one.

 

In the deep, dark depths of his mind that house desire, Kita would not be opposed to having you follow his whims. I’m all yours , you said. You’re right when you say Kita isn’t a machine. He’s not immune to temptation.

 

However, above all else, he’s a logical man. And he can’t allow silly desires and temptations to fog his ability to think clearly. He approaches everything with reason.

 

“What you’re asking for is unheard of. There is no way that I am going to help you free a demon, family or not.”

 

Your face drops in devastation all too quickly. It’s kind of cute how earnest you are. “But Kita-kun—”

 

“If that jar you drew is really the one your parents are trapped inside, then they’re powerful enough to be a threat to anything. It’s one of the most intricate, elite holy jars I’ve ever seen.” he explains, “And I have no business trying to set demons like that free. I’m sorry.” he says with finality as he walks away back towards the special exhibit.

 

“Kita-kun, wait!” you shout after him.

 

“I’ll be keeping an eye on you from now on, but if I so much as get a whiff of danger,” he turns his head to pin you with his cold, steely eyes, “Then it’s over for you.”

 

You look like you want to continue protesting, but Kita is already back on his way to return the necklace to the museum piece, “You might want to clean up that idiot over there too, by the way.” he says as an afterthought when he sees Shiozaki starting to stir from his position lying on the ground.

 

As he disappears down the hallway into the Yorubaland exhibit again, he hears your frustrated huff before Shiozaki grunts himself into consciousness. Making his way down the hall to the encased wooden statue the necklace belongs to, Kita wonders if he’s making the right decision.

 

His instincts tell him that you’re not really too threatening, and your adamance about wanting to live a quiet life as a demon in human society sounds radical, but not impossible. Should he confide in his grandmother about this? Would she tell him to go after you immediately and kill you while he has the chance? Could he bring himself to do that?

 

Yeah, he should tell her. If he’s letting a demon go free, seemingly harmless or not, he should at least share the information with his grandmother. With her experience at least, she’ll give him a better perspective on what to do from here.




*



“Is she pretty?” is the first thing she asks when Kita finishes explaining the situational encounter with you earlier in the evening.

 

“What does that have to do with any of it?” he furrows his eyebrows in confusion.

 

“Nothing.” she chuckles as she continues to fold a shirt from the pile of clean laundry they’re organizing together. “But the way you were telling the story in such detail, I thought you might’ve been smitten by her or something before you found out such a harsh truth.”

 

“Regardless of whether she’s pretty or not, that’s not supposed to affect what I do about it.” he states matter-of-factly. It’s what he’s been trained to remember his entire life. Do not be swayed to make decisions based on his emotions. Use logic.

 

“How mature of you, Shin-chan.” she smiles proudly as she puts the shirt in one of the piles before picking up another one. “Well, you’re the one who has been going to school with this young girl all year, so I trust you to gauge whether or not she’s a danger. How you handled the situation today is not how I would have expected you to, but I don’t see any wrong in it either. So I think it’s fine to let it play out until you deem action to be necessary.”

 

Kita nods respectfully, satisfied to hear his grandmother’s opinion. “What do you think about what she said though? Is it really possible for demons to try to coexist with humans?”

 

She hums thoughtfully, “Hmm… well it’s not something that I haven’t seen attempted before. Back in the day, there weren’t as many resources for demons to quell their physiological needs, and a lot of them had nastier tempers. But maybe some of those things have changed now. We can’t be sure though, so we have to observe things as they come and go.

 

“However, in the case of freeing her parents, that’s not up to us. If she wants to bring it up with Souichiro-kun at their shrine, since he’s the one who caught them. She’ll run the risk of being captured herself though, depending on how open Souichiro-kun is to hearing out a demon’s story.”

 

Kita folds the last of the clothes in the basket as he considers this. If he told you this, would you be willing to run that risk? You had tried to fight him today at the museum, but if you can’t even beat him, then there’s no way that you would even stand a chance against someone from the Ebita Shrine.

 

Well, he supposes he’ll do as he said and just keep an eye on you. Because what else can he do?



*



“Hi, Kita-kun.” you smile and wave at him as he walks back towards his classroom from his usual morning bathroom break. It’s a new part of the daily routine that’s been added since that run-in at the museum a few days ago.

 

He only meets your eyes and gives you a single nod to be polite in front of others, doing his part in this new routine. But honestly, it’s all kind of annoying. He knows you’re only trying to wear him down to convince him to help you out.

 

The day after the incident, during lunchtime, you had caught him on his way to the cafeteria and asked him to speak with you outside. He had no reason to turn you down in public, so he obliged, but only ended up giving you the same answers to a slightly different question.

 

“You have to bring it up with the man who works at the Ebita Shrine. I can’t help you.”

 

“Kita-kun, I can guarantee you that my parents would not stir trouble. If they got captured, it’s probably because the hunter who was after them is ruthless and thinks all demons are biologically evil.” you assert, looking disdained, “You can’t expect me to go there by myself and ask him to give me my parents back. He’d slice me up and funnel me into a jar before I could even introduce myself.”

 

“Aren’t you being a bit presumptuous? You say that hunters see all demons as monsters that need to be captured, but you’re making the same judgements about him before you’ve even met the guy.” he turns it back on you.

 

You breathe in so deep that you’re standing on the balls of your feet, looking like you’re going to shout something in retaliation, but you just hold it in your cheeks before bursting into a sigh. Your body deflates but you stand up straight again without a moment’s waste, “Fine, you’re right. I’m being presumptuous. But can you blame me? You and other humans are probably afraid of demons wreaking havoc just as much as demons are afraid of being hunted. That’s why it’s so hard for us to understand each other. There aren’t any advocates that are willing to defend the other side.”

 

This conversation is starting to sound strangely political, but you eventually get to your main point, “So in any case, how’s he going to believe me if I show up on my own to his shrine to ask him to set some demons free? I have no merit in his eyes. That’s why I need your help, Kita-kun. If you can ask for me, or just show up there beside me to back me up and reassure him that I’m not dangerous, then maybe I’ll have a chance.”

 

Your argument isn’t invalid, but even if Kita wanted to help you, he’s busy. What with volleyball practice, school work, and making his neighborhood rounds, he doesn’t have time to go on a field trip to some high-end shrine on the other end of the city as your chaperone.

 

He tells you so, but you’re persistent. You keep arguing with him and trying to convince him in one way or another, but he ends up having to walk away from you with an insincere apology. You don’t follow him but you’re at it again the next time he’s free.

 

That’s how it’s been for the last few days, you saying hi to him in the hallways like you’re new acquaintances, following him down to the cafeteria to ask him for the same favor again and again, and once you even showed up to his volleyball practice to ask when he’d be leaving.

 

His teammates had all given him promiscuous looks or encouraging nudges, but he ignored them and told you that practice wouldn’t be over for a while. And before you could offer to wait, he gave you a scary look that made you pout and sigh before being sent home.

 

“Dude! What’d you do that for? We could’ve done without you for an extra hour today.” Gin punches him playfully on the back.

 

“Yeah, that was [Surname]. She’s like, unattainable, and yet she comes here practically begging to hang out with you. What’s with you?” Ojiro laughs jokingly, also patting his back.

 

Kita just stares deadpan at his teammates like he usually does, “I can’t afford to lose practice at a time like this. Nationals is right around the corner, isn’t it?”

 

“Ehhh, it’s just one day, captain. Live a little.” his annoyingly lax junior, Miya Atsumu, drawls. “She’s pretty. I’ve never even seen you interact with a girl before. Nationals are important, but you’re not going to be young forever, you know.”

 

Now Kita is starting to get agitated, so he gives everyone his darkest, most unamused “get back to work” look until they all can physically feel the chills on their skin. And practice is back in session.

 

But that’s the pattern things have taken these days; you catching him during the breaks, and his friends sending him encouraging looks and winks whenever you show up. Even your own friends seem to encourage the interaction between you two, and they’ve walked off with his own once or twice to leave you two to your verition before.

 

Little do they know that the conversations you always start with him are just precursors to philosophical debates about the dynamics between humans and demons.

 

“You know, just because humans can walk around during daytime without problems doesn’t mean you guys are the dominant majority. It’s just that we’re concentrated more in cloudy or cooler areas that don’t get as much sunlight. Although there’s the occasional exception of the demon who likes to suntan in the tropics.”

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

“Have you ever wondered why humans have seen such a fall in demon activity in the past century? The rise of industry and medical science hasn’t helped only humans. Since we’ve started building more accessible ways to get blood, we don’t have to go biting down on random victims like vampires anymore.”

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

“Demons have dreams and aspirations like anyone else, but when humans keep limiting our movements, we have no choice but to rebel at times. More often than not, demons are stuck in shadier jobs that don’t require health screenings and whatnot, so a lot of us are under the impression that we’re doomed to fail simply based on who we are when we’re born.”

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

“You ever a met a half demon child? Because it’s very possible to make one. Our bodies are really not that different, Kita-kun. And halfies are living proof that humans and demons can get along just fine. More than fine, even…” you had been coming in really close to him during this particular conversation, even bringing a hand up to caress his face.

 

Kita had grabbed hold of your wrist and pushed it back down to your side. He would not fall prey to your persuasion. Although admittedly, you had been wearing him down.

 

It was annoying at first, having you tail him and go on and on about the social anomalies of demons and humans. He was tempted to raise his voice a few times, since you didn’t seem to care if others were eavesdropping at times — although to them, it might’ve just sounded like you were really passionate about some sort of anime series or something.

 

But at some point, he just learned to deal with it. He allowed you to follow him and badger him about all these different debatable topics, and he didn’t ever say a word. You went on, and he listened — he was actually learning quite a lot — but he never gave you a sign that he had changed his mind or was swayed by your argument.

 

It was strange, how he was starting to expect and even anticipate your greetings and interactions and talks as the week went by. They’ve almost started to become part of his daily routine, in an offhandish way. And before he knows it, Friday comes and he’s likely not going to see you during the weekend. Instead of seeing it as a nice break, he finds himself feeling disappointed at the thought.

 

Have you grown on him? He can admit to himself that he was probably already slightly attracted to you in the strictly physical sense before he found out you were a demon, but now that he’s seeing parts of your personality that he can’t just see by walking past you in the hallway, it’s hard to turn away. It’s becoming clearer to him that you’re an intelligent, stubborn, passionate person who is surprisingly not that good at flirting (you try, but you’re clearly not very experienced). And… he doesn’t hate it.

 

He doesn’t hate learning more about you, or about how demons have evolved alongside humans in the shadows. He doesn’t dislike the attention you constantly pay him day after day (or the look of frustration on Shiozaki’s face). He doesn’t even disapprove of your novice attempts to seduce him at times. If anything, he finds them amusing, how inexperienced you are. It’s becoming evident how sheltered you are compared to other rogue demons.

 

Yeah, maybe you’ve grown on him. Because when he’s emotionlessly walking back home from volleyball practice on Friday evening, he isn’t even bothered by the fact that you’re sitting in his living room having tea with his grandmother.

 

Surprised, but not bothered.

 

“What are you doing here?” he deadpans.

 

Well , since you weren’t going to sympathize with me and help me rescue my dying family,” you pin him with an antagonistic glare, “I thought I’d pay a visit and see if your guardian would lend an ear. You have a very sweet grandmother, by the way, Kita-kun.”

 

His grandmother laughs, “You’re quite a lovely young woman. I never thought I’d meet such a well-mannered and charming young demon.”

 

“Granny.” Kita pipes up, dropping his stuff down and kneeling down to be more at eye-level with her, “Why did you let her in.”

 

“She said she was your classmate and openly introduced herself as a demon. I was curious.” she shrugs more cheerfully than should be appropriate.

 

“And I was telling her about my situation and how I need a helping hand. Just a sponsor. And she kindly heard me out, I’m very grateful, oba-san.” you place your hands on the table and bow your head to her.

 

“Shin-chan, why don’t you take [Surname]-chan over to the Ebita Shrine tomorrow? If you bring her now while it’s dark, Souichirou-kun might think that she’s going to take advantage of the evening.”

 

“What?” he’s dumbfounded. His grandmother is actually agreeing to this?

 

“It’s fine, I’ll write a referral letter to him. But you being there should be enough. Don’t worry, Shin-chan, if [Surname]-chan presents herself as honestly and openly as she did to me, then I’m sure Souichirou-kun will at least hear her out.” she coaxes, like it’s already been decided.

 

Kita looks between you and his grandmother and your matching smiles. How had you managed to create such a blooming friendship with her in such a short time? “Granny, are absolutely serious right now? She didn’t hypnotize you or anything?” he has to ask just to make sure. Although he can’t imagine that she would change her answer for any reason.

 

“Shin-chan, how rude! Demon or not, she’s a young girl who needs her family. If she’s willing to put her life on the line, then I don’t see why we can’t give her a chance.” she reaches over to pat your cheek, “Besides, how can you say no to such a pretty face? And she was kind enough to bring gifts over.”

 

Kita notices the basket of fruit and protein bars sitting on the cabinet shelf by the TV. He was wondering where that came from. There’s no chill in the air, and the electricity is still running just fine. All the telltale signs of demonic energy are absent from this household, so you are most likely persuading his grandmother through your personality alone.

 

“Oh, it’s alright oba-san. Kita-kun is always a bit cold towards me.” you sigh dramatically, “I was starting to lose a bit of confidence in my feminine charm.”

 

“Nonsense,” she waves off such a silly notion, “He’s just a little too serious. It’s always been that way. But he’ll gladly help, won’t you, Shin-chan?”

 

“Uh… I have volleyball practice tomorrow though.” he tries for another escape route.

 

“You don’t get breaks during these practices? Just tell them you’ll be gone for a little while longer and you’ll be back for the end. Time is of the essence!”

 

Kita stares longer between you and his grandmother before internally sighing. It’d be rude to show his exasperation so blatantly. But he still makes his most deadpan look before turning to you, “Meet me at the school gymnasium around noon tomorrow. Bring a bicycle with you too, I suppose.”

 

“Yes, sir!” you salute him, sporting the most victorious smile he’s ever seen. It’s almost dazzling, he has to turn away. So he makes his way back to his bedroom without another word and lets you converse freely with his grandmother for the rest of the evening.



*



You pop your head into the gymnasium fifteen minutes before noon, while the boys are starting their cool-down  stretches, “Hello, everyone.” you make your presence known with a soft call and a soft smile.

 

“Hm? Captain, is this visitor for you?” Atsumu wiggles his eyebrows at Kita as he reaches forward between his eagle-spread legs.

 

“Yeah.” he answers simply, not even bothering to deny or explain himself. “I told coach I’d be gone for a while longer at lunch break to do something.”

 

“I wonder how long you need to do that something .” Gin exchanges a smirk with Ojiro as the other boys’ eyes follow you when you enter the gym. With a box of oranges in your hands...

 

“Pardon the intrusion.” you bow to the coach and set the oranges down by his chair, “I don’t know if Kita-kun told you, but I need to borrow him for a little while today.”

 

Kita turns away to let out the smallest of sighs through his nose. It’s fine, he tells himself. It’ll likely take an hour or so. All he has to do is accompany you to the shrine, which is about fifteen to twenty minutes away by bike, let you talk to Souichirou for a while, and then come back. Hopefully he’ll be able to address the situation promptly and Kita can be back at practice just a little after lunch.

 

They finish their stretches and disperse for lunch. Kita tells you he’s going to eat his food quickly so he can leave quickly, but you tell him to take his time and… just plop down in their circle with a few oranges in hand.

 

Okay… If the coach is allowing it, then he supposes he can’t send you off.

 

“So, you guys are going to nationals, huh? That’s so impressive!” you start a conversation easily with whoever is paying attention, which is basically everyone.

 

Ojiro is the one who speaks most comfortably with you, since he’s in your class, but the other boys seem to enjoy your company too. Kita thinks he can see some stars in some of their eyes. You’re peeling oranges as you talk to them and gush about the fame the team’s shot up to.  

 

“And the Miya twins! I’ve heard so much about you guys.” you shoot a dazzling smile at the two, “You know some of the third year girls go crazy over the two of you. Even in the art club, where practically no one pays attention to sports, they all still attend the games to watch the two of you play.”

 

“Ehh? So who’s more popular?” Atsumu leans forward, already turning it into a competition.

 

“Oi.” Osamu prods him with a deadpan look.

 

“Secret~” you wink at him, and Kita swears there are a few pink cheeks in the room now.

 

He’s almost done with his rice balls, so he quickly takes his last bites and chugs it down with his water before tidying his lunch box back up. “Alright, we can head out now.”

 

“Wait, Kita-kun. Here, have an orange.” you hand him one of the perfectly peeled oranges you were working on, and you actually look quite lax despite how you had been bothering him to take you to the shrine for so long.

 

But he supposes it won’t hurt to get some extra vitamins into his meal, so he accepts the fruit, “Thank you.” he says as he peels it apart to put a wedge into his mouth.

 

“Eh… That was easier than I thought it would be.” you chuckle, and Kita turns to you with a clueless look on his face, “If you had said you didn’t want it, I was going to feed it to you.”

 

You giggle like it’s a joke, but Kita can see all his other team members nudging elbows and exchanging excited looks in the circle. So he swallows and says, “It’s fine. Thanks for bringing these for the team.”

 

“My pleasure.” you smile and pick up another peeled orange that was resting on the leftover peels, “Anyone else want one yet?”

 

“Over here!”

 

“Oh, me too.”

 

You respond to the requests by throwing the oranges to the boys who asked for them with a playful, “Catch~”

 

“[Surname]-san, if Kita-san won’t eat from your hands, you can always feed me instead.” Atsumu smiles smugly, glancing at Kita quickly before returning his gaze to you. Which means he is clearly doing this on purpose to incite a reaction out of him.

 

And to his chagrin, you play along, “Sure. Here ya go, ‘aaahh’.” you hold out an orange wedge, but you don’t actually make your way over to where Atsumu is sitting, which probably implies that you’re doing it jokingly.

 

Atsumu looks like he’s about to get up from his sitting position to lean over and eat the fruit from your hands, but Osamu, who is sitting closer to you, reaches right over and plucks it out of your hand to stuff it into his brother’s face. A heroic act.

 

“Oi! ‘Samu, the heck was that for?!” Atsumu shouts at him.

 

“I was bridging the space between you.” he replies simply, but it’s still spiteful somehow.

 

As the twins start arguing, you just laugh behind your hand at their antics. Ojiro informs you that it’s always like this.

 

Kita has finished his orange, so he stands up, “Let’s go. I don’t want to waste too much time.”

 

“Okay~” you sing, hopping up to follow him out of the gymnasium, “Take your time eating, everyone!” you say your goodbyes to the team, and receive a roaring reply until you’re out the door.

 

“Well, they’re nice.” you comment absently as the both of you make your way to the bike rack. Kita doesn’t say anything else to you on the trip to the shrine.

 

As expected, the ride there takes about fifteen minutes, and admittedly, the breeze is quite nice. Relaxing. And since you’re keeping pace with him, he doesn’t have to worry about you falling behind or anything and can just enjoy the ride.

 

The Ebita Shrine is lavish, probably due to the remodeling they’ve done since they get a lot more donations and funding than the local ones. But impressively enough, it looks exactly like the picture he remembered seeing in your sketchbook from the bottom of the stairs.

 

The two of you climb up to the top and make it to the stone brick pathway that leads to the torii gate. After quickly washing his hands in the water trough by the entrance, Kita leads you towards the shrine, “Let’s go.”

 

“Kita-kun, did you forget something?” You ask him, “I can’t step in there.”

 

That’s right. The shrines are places of holy worship and purified spiritual energy. It would reject your demonic energy.

 

“Then how were you going to save your family?” He asks, “They’re inside there anyway.”

 

“Well…” You tap the tips of your fingers together, looking away sheepishly, “I was originally planning on having the amulet to neutralize the holy energy around me.”

 

Right. The Yorubaland artifact that you tried to steal. Surprisingly enough, now that Kita has an idea of how stubbornly persistent and ambitious you are, he can understand your attempt to forge a plan through the use of a magical item. It’s not like you had anyone else to help you before.

 

“I see.” he turns back towards the torii gate, “Then wait out here, I’ll bring him out.”

 

Kita asks a shrine maiden to fetch Souichirou, making sure to mention his grandmother’s name. The man in haul appears several minutes later, looking as rugged and bearded as he did in your sketch. “How can I help you, young man?” he asks after quickly introducing himself.

 

“If it’s not too much of a bother, I’d like to take you to meet someone.” Kita bows, “She’s waiting outside of the gate.”

 

“Hm? Sure, but she can come inside as well, can’t she?” he says with confusion, but follows Kita to the entrance anyway. “So you’re the one who’s taking over for your grandmother now, are ya?”

 

“Yes, in fact, she’s the one who had me come here today. There’s a demon girl that she wants to help, and she asked me to accompany her here today so that she could ask you.” he explains as casually as he can.

 

However, that makes Souichirou stop in his tracks. “A demon. That she wants to help.” he repeats in a low rumble, trying to roll the taste of the sentence around in his mouth.

 

“Yes, she’s a student at my school actually. But since she hasn’t caused any trouble for anyone, I’ve been letting her roam freely.”

 

“There isn’t a demon out there that doesn’t cause trouble eventually, sonny.” Souichirou’s voice gets darker, but he walks on with Kita anyway, “It’s only a matter of time.”

 

Well, Kita didn’t expect much variation from this kind of reaction, but he isn’t walking away at least, so maybe he’ll be willing to hear you out. It doesn’t stop Souichirou from grimacing once he walks out of the sanctity of the shrine to see you.

 

“Hello, sir!” you smile brightly and bow a good ninety degrees as you introduce yourself. Pulling out the letter of referral from his grandmother, you hand it over to the man with both hands, “I’ve come with a request to get my family back.”

 

Kita watches as Souichirou takes the letter with only his fingertips, and maneuvers the letter open to touch as little of it as possible, as if it being in your possession has soiled it or something. Seeing this kind of behavior, even Kita has to admit that it looks a bit rude.

 

After reading through the letter and verifying the stamp on the corner of the page, he folds it back up and returns it to the envelope, “Your parents are being held here, you say?”

 

“That’s right, sir. I was at school during the time of their capture, so I wasn’t able to witness myself how or why they were caught. But you know demons can use their spiritual connections with those they’re close to, and so I managed to conjure up a picture of which vessel they are being held in.” you hold up your sketchpad of the very picture of the holy jar Kita once saw.

 

Souichirou makes no movement or expression of recognition, but you continue on with your spiel, “However, you see, my connection to them grows weaker by the day, which clearly means that they’re losing strength within the confines of the jar. And although I may a demon, I am still a growing adolescent, and I’m sure you can imagine how devastating it would be a for a child to lose their family all of a sudden, right?

 

“I’m sure you wouldn’t want something like that to happen to your own child, or a niece or nephew you have, or even to a child who visits your shrine occasionally! So I plead you, sir, to set my parents free. A family of demons is a family nonetheless, and I vouch that they are not the kind of people who would endanger others. I swear I’ve not seen them do a single thing wrong using their demon abilities before.”

 

Souichirou listens with a pinched face the entire time. Kita is starting to get a bit annoyed by the man’s blatant lack of manners.

 

“So you came here with this hunter boy to prove to me your sincerity.” he says in a deadpan way.

 

“Well, he’s more of a representative sponsor of my request, here today instead of his grandmother.” you clarify, “You see, Kita-kun and I have been going to school together for months, and he’s seen that I’m able to live among humans without a hitch! My parents are the same way, so I can’t imagine that they gave you a reason to capture them.”

 

Souichirou seems to relax a bit in his stance, and you don’t falter in your hopeful smile. “Listen young lady, I admire your audacity to come out here and bare yourself to us in order to help your family. However, I’m afraid I can’t grant you your request.”

 

Your face falls, and so does your sketchpad in your hands. It’s incredible how easy you are to read. “Why ever not?”

 

“That jar that’s holding your parents, it’s only used for S-class demons, so to speak. It’s not used to hold your everyday thief or glutton. Your parents are both white-eyed demons, and regardless of how your family has been living up until now, white-eyed ones are considered too much of a danger to allow free reign, and therefore must be detained.”

 

Without a second’s notice, Souichirou has pulled a knife out of his belt.

 

“But sir—!”

 

“I’m sorry to say, that goes for you too, young lady.”

 

You only managed to avoid Souichirou’s strike by holding up your sketchpad to receive the blow of the knife long enough for you to jump out of the way. “Wait, please— Aaah!” you scream when he pivots towards you to strike again, and the force of his swing makes your sketchpad fly off to the side. A few of the pages even fall out before the whole thing crashes to the floor in a wrinkled, heap.

 

But before Souichirou can swing at you while you’re down, Kita has caught the man’s knife in his own small one that he had kept hidden in his own body. Using the element of surprise to his advantage, Kita pivots the momentum back to push Souichirou back.

 

The man jumps back but still lands gracefully on his feet, clearly having many more years of experience in his belt. But no matter what he’s seen, he’s still capable of showing outrage in his eyes.

 

“Kita-kun.” your winded voice breathes from behind him. He turns around to offer a hand to you to stand up. You stare at him before glancing at his hand and back up at his face before taking it to stand.

 

“Do you not realize what a hazard this girl can become someday? I’m surprised you haven’t captured her on your own.” Souichirou growls.

 

“What I realize is that you’re being a bit much right now.” Kita replies calmly, eyes cold as he turns back to face him.

 

“I’ve been in this business long enough to know that nothing good ever comes from white-eyed demons. It’s too dangerous to wait for a disaster to strike before confirming what we already know.” Souichirou pulls a talisman out from his pocket and slaps it onto the blade of his long knife, “Early eradication is for the best.”

 

“But you haven’t given us a chance!” Even though you were just stabbed at, you’re still live and kicking. “Have you ever interacted with a demon community? We all have our own stories, and all we want is to live peacefully among you!”

 

Kita holds an arm out to prevent you from taking another step forward. He admires your tenacity, but Souichirou is past the point of caring. You were right, he just struck without a second thought. Imagine if you had showed up here on your own. You might not have returned to school the next day. The thought sends an unpleasant feeling to Kita’s chest.

 

“Every time humans have allowed you to roam freely, entire cities become lost in history.” Souichirou stands firm, “People disappear in the blink of an eye, and there’s endless unrest. We’ve worked to quell demon activity to the point that most people don’t even know of your existence now, and I will not run the risk of upsetting the peace we’ve worked so long and hard to build.”

 

“Peace?!” you screech, “Is peace to you the flourishing of one people while the other cowers in shadows and in fear to live freely? What you’re working for is oppression . Genocide! You’re willing to punish an entire race of people for the actions of a few. That’s... That’s...!!”

 

Souichirou doesn’t let you finish because he’s in front of both you and Kita in seconds, and you scream when he almost slices your face open. Kita manages to push his wrist away so that you only get away with a small cut to the cheek, but you hiss in pain since Souichirou is obviously carrying a purified blade.

 

Kita has to use all of his strength and training to fend off Souichirou at this point, since he’s just coming at you. So he yells your name, “Get out of here first!”

 

But you’re staring darkly down at your hand. Your hand where blood is smeared from when you touched the cut on your face. Admittedly, Kita doesn’t enjoy seeing such an ominous, unhinged expression on your pretty face. No one should have to go through something that will cause them to make that face.

 

“Even though the blood we shed is the same…” your voice is strained, almost trembling. It sends shivers down Kita’s back, and it has nothing to do with your demonic aura that’s starting to chill the air.

 

“Boy, move aside! She’s going to lose it!” Souichirou shouts, trying to throw him off balance with his modest strikes. Since Kita’s not his target, maybe he’s trying to spare him.

 

The air is getting colder and colder through, and Souichirou’s movements are becoming more anxious. “[Surname]! Get out of here!” Kita repeats again.

 

“No, I have to save my family!” your voice does sound a little hysterical at this point. Like you’ve lost control of your emotions. A cold wind starts blowing around you and in small glimpses as he fends off Souichirou’s attacks, Kita can see your eyes become a blank white. Both your irises and your pupils blend together in a bright whiteness that’s unlike any of the small fry black-eyed, red-iris demons he’s encountered thus far.

 

He can feel the sheer force in your aura as well. It’s stronger and denser than any of the others he’s had to fight off before. And he can imagine if you were able to gain control of that power, and pair it with your physical strength that’s he’s had trouble with too, that you would be a tough one to deal with.

 

But he knows that you wouldn’t cause harm to anyone. You’ve lost yourself, and he needs to make sure you don’t give Souichirou a confirmation that you’re as dangerous as he suspects. He shouts your name again, louder and louder until you listen to him.

 

However, in his flurry to get your attention, he loses his balance in one step and feels the blade of Souichirou’s knife dive right into his side, “Agh!” he cries out in pain, stumbling to the ground after losing his footing.

 

That seems to trigger something though. The swirling cold air seems to calm for a moment, and Kita hears a whisper of his name come from your mouth before the wind picks up again. And before anyone knows it, Souichirou is thrown back through the torii gate into the shrine, and Kita is lifted off of the ground.

 

His vision blurs for a number of seconds before his surroundings stop, and he realizes that the both of you are… back at school? He’s sitting against the trunk of a tree on the side of the soccer field outside, and you’re kneeling in front of him, concern swimming in your fading white eyes. You blink a few more times and your irises and pupils are back to their normal color. “Kita-kun, are you alright?” you lean forward and caress his face.

 

You’re awfully close. He grunts and looks away, “I’m fine. But…” Lifting his bloodstained shirt, he takes a look at the knife wound he had just received, “I might not be able to play volleyball for a while.” he jokes.

 

You sigh in relief, hugging him with your arms wrapped around his neck and your back arched behind you. “If Kita-kun is making jokes, then I’m not sure how okay you really are…” you chuckle breathily as you sit back on your calves. “Let me see that. I’ll heal it up for you.”

 

Kita looks up at you with furrowed eyebrows, “You can do that?”

 

“Of course.” you place your fingertips on his chest and lean forward slowly, “For a kiss.”

 

“What?” Against his will, Kita feels a blush creeping up his cheeks. Is this some sort of exchange that has to be done with a demon for them to be able to utilize their abilities? Because he’s heard of plenty of old stories about demons tricking humans into making deals with them.

 

You stare deeply into his eyes before breaking out into a bright laugh, “Just kidding.” you pull back, “But it looks like I do have a bit of an effect on you after all, Kita-kun.”

 

Is this really the time to be trying to put moves on him? “Can you really heal people though?” he’s never heard of such a thing.

 

“Well that hunter man wasn’t wrong when he said that white-eyed demons are more powerful than black-eyed ones. But it’s not like we’re only capable of destruction. He’s clearly never been healed by a demon before. Not that he deserves it anyway.” you converse casually as you lift his shirt and place your cold palm against his injured side.

 

And strangely enough, Kita feels some changes going on underneath your hand. The heat rises in that spot on his side and the pain slowly fades away as you continue talking, “You know it’s funny, most demons choose not to go into the medical field because they get too frustrated having to use traditional human methods to heal people. It takes so much longer and people don’t always heal completely in that extended amount of time.”

 

When you finally pull your hand away, you pull out a handkerchief and wipe away the blood on his skin until it’s clean, for the most part. Lo and behold, when you pull the cloth away, it’s as if the injury has healed completely. There isn’t even a scar.

 

Kita looks up at you in amazement, and you smile at his expression. “There we go, all fixed up. Would you like a lollipop?” you joke with a giggle.

 

“That’s… pretty incredible.” he admits. “I’m amazed.”

 

“Really? Because you’re the one who amazes me, Kita-kun.” you smile fondly at him. He’s seen you smile so many times, but having such an expression directed towards him and only him is kind of… disorienting. “I can’t believe you fought so bravely for me back there. You really held your own, and you looked so cool.”

 

Settling yourself to sit beside him on the tree trunk, you slide your shoulder down behind his arm against the tree until you can rest your chin on his shoulder, “I’m so very grateful that you helped me out today.”

 

This is such a strangely intimate position, and Kita doesn’t know what to make of it. But after the whirlwind of events that just happened, he doesn’t mind taking a short rest, so he lets you stay there. “But you didn’t manage to get your family back.”

 

“I know. That sucks. But what can I do but keep trying?” you sigh, tilting your head a bit in an attempt to look at him while still leaning your chin on his shoulder, “Will you help me again this time, Kita-kun?”

 

Kita sighs, because he doesn’t know about that. After that catastrophe, Souichirou and the Ebita Shrine might not see him or his grandmother in such a respectable light anymore. What could he possibly do to help you retrieve your parents this time? Allowing you to “borrow” the amulet from the museum is out of the question. How involved is Kita even willing to get this time?

 

“I’ll have to ask my grandmother about this. If she wants to do anything about it, then she can.” he offers, not making any promises.

 

That seems to be enough for you though, because you snuggle in closer to his side, and he can feel your giggle vibrating in your throat against his shoulder. “Thank you.”

 

He says nothing more and just looks up out into the soccer field only to widen his eyes in shock. There’s his team members, jogging along the side of the soccer field to do some road work outside of the school, and they’ve caught sight of him. With you leaning against him in a seemingly intimate position. And blood on his shirt.

 

No, wait. His shirt has been pulled back and the blood stains are being covered by your arms. So that’s why you were snuggling up against him?

 

“Ehh~ How mean, captain. Ditching practice on your own to have fun with a pretty girl.” Atsumu coddles with a big smirk on his face.

 

“Wow, I didn’t know he was even capable of such a stunt. Impressive.” Osamu says with his usual deadpan look.

 

“Huh? What, no. I--” Kita starts, but really doesn’t know how to finish.

 

“No, no. It’s fine.” Ojiro interrupts by pushing Atsumu by the shoulders while Gin takes care of Osamu, “Take your time, you two.” he smiles supportively before driving off the rest of the members.

 

“Wait,” he calls after them with a hand up, but Ojiro shoots him down and just jogs off with the rest of the griping volleyball club. Kita sighs and drops his hand. Oh well, it’s not like he can do anything about it now that they’ve seen him.

 

“You want me to erase their memories?” you offer playfully.

 

“No, it’s fine.” he declines casually, as if you were offering to lend him a textbook rather than use your demonic powers to hypnotize his friends against their wills.

 

“Let’s go back to my house first. I can change clothes and we’ll get to ask my grandmother her opinion on what to do.” he suggests.

 

You both end up walking back to his home since in your rush of escape, you had left your bikes at the Ebita Shrine. But once there, you greet his grandma as cheerfully as you had yesterday, like you didn’t just have a traumatic encounter with a demon hunter an hour ago.

 

She notices the blood on his clothes immediately, “Oh no, Shin-chan. Are you alright?”

 

When Kita explains the situation and tells her not to worry because you had healed him, she sighs in relief, and — surprise, suprise — praises you for such a kind gesture, “But to think that you’re one of the white-eyed ones! It’s amazing that you were able to conceal your presence for so long. Even now, I can barely tell that you have demonic energy coming from you.”

 

“Yeah, it’s something that’s been trained into me since I was little.” you say a little sadly, which is quite uncharacteristic of you. Kita doesn’t particularly enjoy this expression on you either. “But oba-san, what can I do now? Not only did that hunter man refuse to free my parents, he’s probably going to be on the hunt for me now too.”

 

“Hmm…” she hums thoughtfully, “Well, at this point, I don’t have any suggestions. Now that he knows you’re searching for your parents, he’s likely going to keep that jar under tight lockdown. And I’m very sorry to say this, sweetie, but I kind of understand his fear of white-eyed ones.”

 

“Oba-san! Do you… do you really think about demons the same way as he does?” you looks absolutely rattled.

 

“Well, what can I say? You’re quite the exception I’ve come across in all my years of demon hunting, [Surname]-chan. Shin-chan even said that you lost control of your own powers there for a minute. It’s not always up to the demon’s conscience how things turn out.” she says, but she pats your back gently, “I don’t mean to say that all hope is lost for you to reunite with your family, but it’s likely that you’re not going to get them back without breaking a few rules.”

 

“Ugh! But then I’ll just be proving that hunter man right if I just outright steal it or something.” you groan as you sit back on your calves. Then you lean over to rest your chin on Kita’s shoulder like you had earlier today, “Kita-kun, do you want to steal it for me?”

 

“Forget it.” he says reflexively before bringing a water bottle to his lips.

 

“Ehhh? Kita-kun, I thought I was starting to get through to you.” you whine as you sit back up.

 

“I agreed to help you upon my grandma’s request. But I am not going to sneak into an imperial shrine and steal a powerful holy jar of white-eyed demons.” he states firmly as he caps his bottle. “I empathize with you, [Surname], but I’m not going to break the trust of a pact between a fellow association member just because you asked me to.”

 

“Do you want something in exchange? I can do aaaanything you want.” you smile demurely, resting your cheek in your hand. And his grandmother seems to be lapping this up; she’s just sitting there smiling at the banter.

 

“Like I said, forget it.” he stands and makes his way out of the house in his new clothes, “I’m heading back to practice. Good luck.”

 

He hears another whiny groan from you and some hushed optimism from his grandmother before he closes the door and heads back to school. For someone who’s so religious, she’s encouraging some pretty unholy things.



*



The members give him so much shit when he returns to the gym. He’s bombarded with questions and accusations and congratulations.

 

“To think that our robot captain made specific plans to ditch practice so he could hang around with his girlfriend. The audacity!” Atsumu exclaims, throwing his arms up.

 

“To think that our robot captain even got a girlfriend.” Suna comments thoughtfully, looking honestly bewildered by the situation.

 

“Good job.” Osamu and Gin give him a simultaneous thumbs up.

 

“And it’s [Surname] too. Congrats, buddy.” Ojiro slaps an arm on Kita’s back. “But try not to run off with her so often during practice time, okay?”

 

“Guys.” he doesn’t even have to raise his voice and he’s already commanded the attention of the rambunctious boys, “It’s not like that. She’s not my girlfriend. I was helping her with something that I can’t tell you about. I apologize for doing that during practice, and it won’t happen again.” he bows formally.

 

“Huh?” the majority of the team utters. Followed by loud protests and disbelieving accusations, but Kita eventually sends them back off with a passive-aggressive comment about training.

 

They pout but don’t ask again for the remainder of practice. But when everyone is in the clubroom and getting their stuff together, Ojiro asks, “Are you really not with [Surname] though? Cuz I was psyched for you, man. All of us were.”

 

“For the last time, no. Now can we drop it, please?” Kita says as he closes his locker. Everyone else is gone, so all he has to do is lock up.

 

His phone buzzes in his bag, so he quickly picks it up and sees that there are several messages he has to scroll through. A lot of them have heart emojis attached to them. “Doesn’t look like it’s gonna be dropped soon.” Ojiro comments as he looks over his friend’s shoulder to see the message previews.

 

Kita sighs and slips the phone back into his pocket. He’ll deal with them later.

 

When he’s finally hope, he puts his stuff away, does a few menial chores his grandma asks of him, and attends to some of his homework before dinner. He only checks his phone again after dinner, where his grandmother happened to be more smiley than usual. He can suspect that she is the reason that you have access to his phone number now.

 

The messages are all from a number he doesn’t recognize, but they’re clearly from you. They start off as simple greetings, words of thanks for today, asking to say hi to his grandmother, and a couple of bold comments to inflate his ego. One particular one that stops Kita in his tracks is the one that reads, “ You smell really nice, by the way.

 

But all in all, he ignores them. He has nothing to say, nor does he plan on falling into your pace enough that you might actually convince him to get your parents back for you.

 

That doesn’t stop you from messaging him several times throughout the rest of the evening. He turns his phone off for the rest of the night only to find a new gaggle of messages when he wakes it up the next morning. They’re not of anything significant either, just little tidbits about your day, your homework, a demon fact here and there, a good morning, some photos of your meals and things.

 

He shows up to the shrine to break another jar per his usual routine, but he doesn’t do it as easily as he used to. There’s a small sense of remorse as he lets it drop to the floor nowadays. He doesn’t recall every single demon that he’s captured, but he knows that most of them were causing mayhem in the neighborhood at the time. No matter how much you try to defend demons as a whole, it’s still his job to protect his community from the rogue ones.

 

After cleaning up and nodding to the shrine workers as usual, he gets another message from you. Upon impulse, he opens it while he’s walking to school for volleyball practice. But he almost trips over his own feet when he sees that you sent a photo of yourself without pants.

 

It’s a mirror selfie, and your pose is admittedly cute, with you reaching behind your own head to give yourself bunny ears. Your face is concentrated on your phone to make sure the photo is angled correctly and your tongue is slightly sticking out for that reason. You’re wearing a t-shirt and some thigh-high socks, but there’s nothing covering your panties. Kita can feel heat traveling to his face so he exits the message application and puts his phone away.

 

He throws himself into practice, ignoring his team’s questions and comments and jokes about you and if he’ll be seeing you today as well. Kita does his best to follow all the routines of his day without interruption, but his teammates notice how his phone keeps getting messages. And he doesn’t want to run the risk of creating more misunderstandings in the case that you send another photo like you did that morning. So he turns it off for the rest of practice.

 

When he finally turns it back on to check your messages, he’s about to go to bed. So he sits there on the edge of his bed, scrolling through all your random questions and endless ramblings about demons and humans and photos — you did indeed send another racy one.

 

As he’s skimming through your countless messages, a call pops up on his screen, and it’s your number. He hadn’t bothered saving you as a contact, but he’s seen this number so many times that he’s practically memorized it now.

 

Against his better judgement, he answers, “What is it?”

 

“Aw, so you do have your phone handy, Kita-kun!” you say cheerfully, “You’ve been ignoring me. Don’t you think it’s a bit cruel to leave a girl hanging?”

 

“I have nothing to say to you. You’re obviously just trying to wear me down in an attempt to get me to help you.” he states blatantly.

 

“Mm, I am, but that’s only one of the reasons why I’m talking to you.” you hum brightly, “You pretend not to care, but I know you’re a great listener, Kita-kun. You’re always paying attention to the things I say about demons and humans.”

 

“Just because I listen doesn’t mean I’m interested in helping you. At the end of the day, I’m a hunter as well.” he reminds you.

 

“But you trust me.” That gets him to shut up for a second. What can he say to that? “You let me go, and you even saved me. I admire you a lot for that, Kita-kun.”

 

Your voice is getting lower, maybe you’re starting to fall asleep, even though you’re the one who called him. “I’ve been thinking about you a lot. Sometimes I even dream about you.”

 

Okay.

 

This is starting to enter uncharted territory. And your voice is growing lower still, and softer. Kita has to strain to listen to you. “Oh, Kita-kun. You know when I wake up sometimes after dreaming of you, I get a little damp between the legs…”

 

What.

 

“And you know what? I finally started touching myself while I thought of you… And… ah… it makes me so hot.” you sigh, sounding blissful. Kita’s hand is starting to numb a little from clutching his phone so tightly.

 

“It made me curious… So I started imagining you on top of me, touching me. Kita-kun, your hands were so gentle on me, but in my mind, I kept asking you to be rougher. Ah!” you interrupt yourself with a little pleasured yelp, and Kita swallows. “I wanted you to impale me with your strong eyes. They’re so cold, but so receptive to everything… I think they’re so beautiful.”

 

You make a few little gasps, and there’s no doubt as to what you’re doing to yourself right now. “Oh, Kita-kun.” you moan softly, “I’d do anything to just wrap my legs around you right now. I’m so, so curious about how you would feel inside me…”

 

Inside you…

 

“Are you big, Kita-kun? I wouldn’t be surprised,” you chuckle darkly, humming in satisfaction. “You’re young, but you’re such a man. I wish I could press my body all over yours right now. Right now…”

 

Your body, pressed against his…

 

“Oh.” you whine a breathy moan, “Kita-kun, can’t you say my name for me? Oh, I want to hear… your voice…” your breaths are becoming more ragged, and Kita’s fists are becoming tighter, “...call my name. Ah… Ah! Kita-kun, Kita-kun! Agh!” you last shouts are a little more distant, and he can assume you dropped your phone as you…

 

You take your time catching your breath before finally picking up the phone again, “I don’t know why, but whenever I think of Kita-kun, I just get wet so much more quickly…” you say in a whiny, but satiated hum that sends something down to his groin, “Agh, look at me… My thighs are all sticky, and so are my fingers. All because of you, Kita-kun…”

 

Silence for a few breaths, “Are you still listening? Or maybe you’ve fallen asleep? If so, then I hope you have some sweet dreams, Kita-kun. If you want me to visit them, just say the word.” you giggle, “Good night.”

 

Once the line is cut off, Kita lowers the phone to his side and loosens the muscles in his hands. He takes a shaky breath and lowers his head, letting his hands hang between his thighs as he rests his forearms on them. He cannot believe he just sat through that.

 

He cannot believe he let you plant those images of your body and his body in his head and… and made those noises in his ear. You had just talked him through your orgasm, while thinking of him, calling his name. What is wrong with him?? How did he…?

 

With a groan, he just slips into bed and pulls his covers up. He needs to get up tomorrow for morning practice. There isn’t time to be thinking about you. He should focus on nationals. He should focus on school. There are so many things that he should be focusing on instead of the phone call you just made that left him feeling a little uncomfortable in his pants.

 

His phone blinks awake from a notification, and once again, against his better judgement, he opens your message. Kita growls and tosses his phone to the floor in frustration when he sees the photo of your hand in front of your half-naked body, with your fingers slightly held apart to show off the sticky, clear fluid that’s stretched apart between them.

 

That was the third time I did that while thinking of you today, by the way



*



“Good morning, Kita-kun.” He hears your voice approach him at the shoe lockers. Looking to the side, he sees that his friends who he had walked here with have disappeared.

 

Fantastic.

 

You’re smiling innocently at him like you hadn’t just turned over his entire weekend. “How was your evening?”

 

“Irritable, much thanks to you.” he finds himself admitting rather easily. He closes his shoe locker and walks off toward the classroom first.

 

“Eh…?” You’re on his heels and by his side without a hitch, “However could that be? Was it because of the phone call?” you feign innocence, but stretch into a demure smile, “Did I linger on your mind at all last night? Because you sure did on mine.”

 

He knows. He got your messages.

 

“You need to stop.” he stops in his tracks at the corner of the hallway, “You’re harassing me.”

 

“Am I?” you pucker your lips thoughtfully, “Well, you could’ve just hung up.”

 

Kita wants to punch himself for letting you state such an obvious solution.

 

“But you stayed on the line, so I thought you were liking it. And then I kept thinking, ‘Kita-kun is actually quite pervy too, isn’t he? He’s probably enjoying this too, isn’t he?’ It made me want to keep going.” you giggle. “You should say something too next time. It’s rude to keep a lady waiting, you know.”

 

You walk off with an innocent smile on your face, twirling into the next hallway with a mischievous grace that makes him want to cut you down.

 

Say something too next time.

 

Next time. “Like hell.” he mutters to himself before walking to his classroom.





From there, it continues. You leave him messages all the time, about the most irrelevant things. Sometimes about more demon things. Once you even tell him about how you had tried hypnotizing someone into stealing the holy jar from the Ebita Shrine for you, but your spiritual energy was ineffective past the shrine gates and your puppet had forgotten his purpose.

 

Kita has to stop answering your phone calls altogether, but that doesn’t stop you from leaving voice messages. Sometimes you leave a long chain of voice messages, each at different stages of your orgasm. So he has to listen to the beginning of each one before he can press the delete button. The sound of your voice in the throes of pleasure is becoming permanently etched into his memories against his will.

 

So comes the end of the week again, with you pestering him in so many more ways that one. It’s a wonder that he hasn’t just blocked you already. But he cannot deny that he approaches things with a new perspective now.

 

Whenever he makes his rounds in the evening, he wonders how he’ll interact with a demon when he comes across one. He’s only run into one rogue one in the past two weeks, and he put on the act of a helping bystander. It was a young man, maybe a college student, who had been drinking the blood of someone passing by.

 

Kita had called out to him, and the man seemed quite apologetic as he lied about how he found the innocent victim who was another boy about his age. They called and waited for the ambulance together, and gave the medics their contact information before watching them drive off.

 

But then, Kita had asked him afterwards why he victimized an innocent stranger like that, and the boy broke down and explained that he had been starving for blood and couldn’t get access to it for almost two weeks. He apologized profusely and promised never to do it again, begging Kita for mercy.

 

At that point in the night, Kita had called you for the first time to ask for some advice on demon resources, and handed the phone over to the young man. The conversation lasted several minutes, but he took down your number and thanked you and Kita for their time.

 

Kita was wary of just letting him go after he pulled a stunt like that, but you had reassured him that you’d meet this boy and teach him everything he needs to know in order to prevent this from happening again in the future. He was grateful for the help, and bowed to Kita profusely before taking his leave.

 

In normal circumstances, Kita would have just sliced that demon boy up and trapped his soul into the holy jar, but he supposes it’s not impossible to understand a situation before taking action.

 

“That was a kind thing for you to do, Kita-kun.” you had told him the next day. The boy had actually come to your house right afterward and had a talk with you. You had connected him to several resources within the demon community in the city and he seemed incredibly thankful to have had a run-in with you. You had texted him about it the evening before too, of course, but Kita still doesn’t reply.

 

“I’m glad you came to me for help.” you had smiled up at him with your usual dazzling brightness. “Feel free to ask me anytime.”

 

Luckily, he hasn’t had any more incidents since them, so he hasn’t needed to contact you for the rest of the week. It’s Friday again, and he’s at practice, throwing himself into training for nationals when you enter the gymnasium near the first hour.

 

“Captain, you have a guest.” his teammates guide his attention to the door.

 

“Kita-kun, he’s here.” you say in a hushed voice when you drag him outside of the gym to talk.

 

“Who?”

 

“That hunter man from the shrine! The one who captured my parents!” you whisper, “He’s waiting outside of the school gate right now, and I don’t know what he’s going to do. He tried to enter the school earlier to ask for me, but when they called me into the admin office, I told them that I didn’t know him and that I had nothing to do with him. So they eventually sent him off school grounds, but he’s still waiting there.”

 

Kita walks around the gym building towards the front gate of the school, and sure enough, Souichirou is there waiting. So Kita tells you to stay where you are while he approaches the hunter without another word, “Why are you here?” he doesn’t waste a moment asking him.

 

“Oh, you.” Souichirou greets Kita, “I think you know full well why I’m here.”

 

“She hasn’t done a thing wrong, so I would suggest you just leave her be.” his tone sounds uncharacteristically defensive.

 

“Young man, that may be true, but you saw what she was capable of. The only reason I’ve waited until now to show up is because she broke a few of my ribs.” He even lifts his shirt to show Kita the bandages and compression wrap on his stomach. Wow, so your strength really isn’t a joke, as he expected.

 

“If you let power like that run free, you’ll only regret it once it’s too late. She needs to be detained.”

 

“Forget it.” Kita retorts immediately, surprising himself even. “You can make her my responsibility, but you’re not detaining her. She’s a teenage girl who wants her parents back. She hasn’t done a thing wrong. So I’m asking you to leave.”

 

Souichirou looks at him with what seems to be pitying eyes, and sighs, “I understand you want to protect your girlfriend, sonny, but this is about the safety of everyone. If she loses control like that and there’s no one around to stop her, then people are going to get hurt.”

 

“The only reason she lost control was because you hurt her first, both physically and psychologically. And the only reason you’re hurt now is because she was trying to save me when you attacked me too.” Kita quips, not even bothering to correct him about you being his girlfriend. “I’m a demon hunter too, but there are situations that don’t have to be handled with brute force.”

 

He thinks back to the encounter with the young man he connected you to. And how he had spared a life for once instead of mindlessly hurting it and leaving it to die. It really doesn’t have to be so black and white, Kita is starting to realize. If he starts to see demons as people rather than just demonic monsters, then he understands all of the accusations you made towards Souichirou that day at the shrine.

 

“And what are you going to do if she runs wild one day and destroys the world?” Souichirou incriminates, “If she obtains a point of power that you can’t possibly control, how do you plan to address that?”

 

“First of all, she’s a person. People aren’t meant to be controlled.” Kita finds himself defending you again, out of spite. He didn’t think he could be this annoyed by someone other than Shiozaki. “And if that day does come, then I’ll be sure to let you know, since you’re so reliable with your hunting skill set. But until that day, there’s no point in taking an innocent life just to prevent a hypothetical apocalypse. Because then you wouldn’t be a demon hunter; you’d just be a murderer.”

 

Kita walks off when he finishes what he has to say, and returns to where you are by the school building. “What happened?” you ask, eyes wide.

 

“If he’s still there later, just wait for our practice to finish. You can walk home with us.” he says simply before heading back to the gym, like he hadn’t just defended your honor and gone against someone on his own side.

 

“Thank you… Kita-kun.” you call after him, although you sound confused as you do so.

 

When he finishes practice and leaves the clubroom, he sees that the front of the school is empty. But the classroom light that the art club uses is still on, so Kita decides to check up on you and let you know the coast is clear.

 

However, when he knocks and enters the classroom, it’s empty. He sees that there’s still a backpack open by a chair with an easel stand placed in front of it. Kita closes the door and sits down on the chair, staring at the sketched image on the large paper pad. It looks uncannily like him.

 

Taking the sketchpad off of the easel stand, he stares analytically down at the picture of him. It’s a full body sketch of him on the phone, standing beside a figure that looks like the demon boy he had let go the other day. The details are incredible. It looks very much like the street in his neighborhood he was standing at during the incident.

 

Kita flips through the other pages, seeing new images. He recalls that your old sketchpad got stabbed by Souichirou, which sends a small rush of anger through Kita, because you had worked hard on those drawings. It was such a shame that they had to be destroyed like that.

 

But these new drawings… They’re all miscellaneous like your previous sketchbook, with still life items and fashion and architecture. But… there are also portraits... of him. Several of them.

 

There’s one of him walking in the hallway back to his classroom, likely from your point of view where you usually stand talking to your friends. Another one where he’s playing volleyball in the gymnasium, diving to catch a receive. He has to admit, you made him look pretty cool in it.

 

One of them is of him at the shrine with a knife in his hand, fighting against Souichirou. It must be drawn in your perspective, because it’s a depicted from a lower angle, likely from when you had fallen down. He can see a side profile of his own face, and the details are drawn to make him look concentrated, valiant even.

 

Another picture is of him looking down at the viewer, reaching his hand out as if to help them up. He supposes this is another memory from that scuffle at the shrine. The look you drew on his face is determined, urging. Kita can see the trepidation in his features, but also the gentleness in them. Is that really how he looked to you that day?

 

There’s another picture that’s more of a painting rather than a portrait, although you did it in pastel. It’s a scene of him and you sitting beside each other against the tree by the soccer field. The two of you are placed on the side and you have your chin resting peacefully on his shoulder, while he’s just staring calmly out into the field. Kita can’t help but want to chortle a little, you even drew the incoming jogging figures of his teammates in the background.

 

He’s about to flip through another page when the sketchpad is violently snatched out of his hands, “What are you doing?!” you shriek, hurriedly flipping the book closed.

 

Your face is tinged with red and you look genuinely nervous and flustered. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen such an expression on you before. It’s kind of cute.

 

“You can make sexual phone calls to me every night, but you won’t let me see your artwork?” he muses.

 

“That’s different! That’s— That’s voluntary! I didn’t say you could look through my personal stuff.”

 

“Personal, huh?” he ponders the thought. This is quite different than your sexual advances. If you’re spending your personal time recreating images of him from your mind — non sexual ones, at that — then you must be thinking of him a lot. Fantasizing about him, even. Maybe you’re not just doing all this to convince him to help you.

 

And judging by your strong reaction, you don’t want him to know. The thought that he has more of an effect on you than you can control or manipulate makes him feel kind of smug. You must like him for real.

 

“Well, sorry then.” He plays it off, standing from the chair and pulling his bag onto his shoulder, “Souichirou seems to be gone, so I thought I’d let you know. I can still walk you back if you want, though.”

 

You’re still a bit flustered from catching him peeping at your little art diary, so you just make a noise of confirmation and put your stuff away. After turning off the lights and leaving the school building, you seem to have calmed down a bit, “How was volleyball practice?” You bring up a random topic, although your voice still sounds a little indignant.

 

“Fine. Training becomes more intense as nationals approach.” He replies rather easily to you now. As unresponsive as he is on text, he still converses with you easily enough in person.

 

“So I’ve noticed. Ojiro-kun seems to doze off in class more these days. Whi—“

 

On instinct, Kita yanks you over to the side of the street when he sees a rustle of movement in the darkness, and you yelp when you narrowly miss the brunt of a knife swing. Souichirou’s knife swing. He was still here after all.

 

You’re hissing and grunting in pain from the slash he got on your upper arm. The sleeve of your school uniform blouse has been torn and soaked with blood. “You!” you shout when you identify your attacker.

 

Souichirou only twirls the knife in his fingers as an answer before striking again. You swing out of the way just as Kita comes in to block him with his own knife. “I thought I told you to leave.” he scowls behind the trembling knives.

 

“And I thought I told you that this girl needs to be taken care of before she causes chaos.” he replies calmly before they jump apart. “It’s nothing personal, kids. But you haven’t seen the destruction that I have that’s been caused by demons before. White-eyed ones are volatile, and ten times more likely to lose control of the power that they have. And when they do, we see more loss than we ever should. I won’t let anyone go through something like that ever again.”

 

The stance he takes and the resolve in his eyes tells Kita that he must have been through some turmoil before to be this adamant about nipping you in the bud. But no matter what he’s been through, you have nothing to do with it, and he has no right to take your life away from you so baselessly.

 

He darts his eyes in one direction in a feint before jumping the other way to attack from around Kita. But combat training as well as volleyball practice have all already been built into his body to allow him to react to these things. Souichirou is knocked aside without a moment’s notice, and you’re holding onto the hem of Kita’s shirt in order to stay close to him.

 

Souichirou keeps coming in from all sides and angles, and it’s challenging for Kita to keep up in the darkness of the evening. You’re lending a hand by guiding him with the smallest of pulls in a certain direction that allow Kita to anticipate which direction Souichirou is moving in from. Since your senses are heightened in the shadows, he supposes he has to depend on you to help him protect you.

 

To think the day would come in which he needs to fight off a human in order to protect a demon. He isn’t used to this work scope, since he was trained to fight with force. But now he has to be careful not to fatally injure Souichirou since he’s a fellow hunter.

 

It’s not working too well for him though, because protecting you at the same time leaves him vulnerable at moments. Kita’s gotten a few cuts on his arms and legs already from Souichirou’s knife work, and he’s only barely avoiding injury because of your help.

 

“Kita-kun…” you whimper by his neck. You sound scared, like you’re crying. And Kita doesn’t like the sound of that at all. “Please, I don’t want you getting hurt anymore because of me.”

 

“Stop worrying about me and just stay back. We’ll be fine.” he states more confidently than he feels, because Souichirou has decades more of experience than he does and it’s hard to keep up.

 

Goes to show since Kita only just manages to identify which side Souichirou’s attacking you from at the last second before throwing his body in front of yours to have his stomach slashed open.

 

He cries out in pain and lands on his knees, gasping. “No!” you shout, kneeling beside him immediately, but he’s gasping and telling you to stay back, to hide. “Run.” he struggles to stagger back into a standing position.

 

Right as he says that, you shout his name in a panic and shove him aside. Your latent strength is enough to send him flying to the ground several feet away to watch as your back gets sliced through. Your cry of pain is probably the most excruciating sound he’s ever had to hear, and it doesn’t stop.

 

It doesn’t stop because you’re moaning from the pain of the ancient, high-end purified knife that’s cut a slash across your back and shoulder. Kita is horrified at the sight of you crippled and rolling on the floor, screaming in pain. Your eyes are turning completely white as the purification spell on the knife sends your body into defense mode, activating your latent demon powers.

 

The chill that he usually feels settle into the air pierces it. The change in the atmosphere is so dramatic that all the street lights on this block and inside the surrounding houses black out. The only source of visible light comes from the glow of the moon overhead and your white eyes.

 

Kita hasn’t felt panic like this in a long, long time. And he feels his vision bleed red when Souichirou places an ofuda on the blade of his knife and raises it to strike down at you.

 

“NO.” he shouts, throwing his entire body at the hunter to knock him down. He wrestles violently with the hunter, unable to stop his own limbs from straight up punching the guy in the face, chest, arms, anything he can reach.

 

“Kita-kun, stop!” he faintly hears you shout in the background, but it’s not enough to drown out your cries of pain. The cold isn’t enough to numb him from the fiery anger he wants to drive into Souichirou’s face. How could he do that to you without a hint of remorse? How can he be so heartless?! How can he—

 

His thoughts are interrupted when the wind is knocked out of him, and he’s kind of flying through a blur of darklit streets like he had that one time when he was carried by you out of the shrine. And once his surroundings still again, he’s at the doorstep of a house. Your house, he supposes, judging by how frantically you’re trying to look for a key to open the door.

 

Once it’s opened though, Kita doesn’t have time to even look inside because he’s yanked into the house and sat in a chair at a kitchen table before he realizes it. He only has a moment to look over and find you locking the front door before you’re right in front of him again, dropping to your knees between his legs and ripping his shirt open. “Kita-kun, are you alright?” you heave.

 

How can you ask that when you’re not even in very good shape yourself? Your breathing is heavy and panicked as you assess his stomach gash. Just having your fingers near the injury makes him twitch in pain. You sigh shakily before grabbing hold of his forearms to hold him still, “This is going to hurt, Kita-kun.” you warn before you dive down to run your tongue along the length of his cut.

 

And you’re right. It hurts .

 

It fucking hurts.

 

It hurts like you’re smearing him with acid and burning his molecules alive.

 

It hurts like you’ve poured gasoline into his injury and set it on fire.

 

It hurts like you’re branding him with poison.

 

It. Hurts .

 

He’s yelling and screaming at the pain, clutching at the seat of the chair and digging his nails into the underside of the wood because your hands are holding him down. His torn shirt has fallen completely off and only hangs from his wrists now. His hips are a little harder to control, but you push him as far as you can into the chair with your own chest to keep him where he is.

 

When the pain ceases to more of a dull sting, Kita finally finds the strength to lift his head and look down. You’ve slowed with your tongue on his abdomen now, and you’re sucking along the length of his injury with your lips too. Or, what was his injury.

 

His eyes are wide with shock. What was literally just an open and gushing wound is now sealed behind pinker, swollen skin. Even though the lights aren’t on in the kitchen, he can still see through the moonlight coming in through the windows that his injury has been speed-healed into a scar that should have taken weeks to form.

 

Your lips are cold on his skin, so much so that they give off the illusion of being hot. And your tongue is like a direct contrast to your lips in temperature. It’s hot enough to be searing on his skin, dangerous enough. But the longer you keep licking and sucking at his stomach, the more the scar fades away.

 

Once you’ve finally deemed his treatment complete, you pull away from his stomach and loosen your grip on his forearms to look up into his face. His blood stains the lower half of your face and your eyes are still glowing a bright white. The contrast is staggering and almost creepy, but Kita is in awe. In awe of you, and how quickly you prioritized tending to his wound.

 

But you don’t stop there, because now you’re bringing your hands up to his shoulders to run them slowly, tantalizingly slowly, down the length of his arms.

 

It’s cold and hot at the same time. Similar to the sensation of when you had healed his injury at school after fighting Souichirou at the shrine. And when he looks between both arms, he sees that the cuts that had just appeared minutes ago are disappearing into faint scars on his skin, like they’re weeks old.

 

“There.” you say in a whisper once you’ve reached his hands, resting yours on top of his. “I can take care of your legs too, if you want to take off—”

 

Kita interrupts you by pulling you into a hug, making you yelp. He knows it’s spontaneous, he knows it’s probably not appropriate, he knows that he’ll likely get into trouble for all of this later, but all he feels is relief.

 

Relief that you’re alive and safe. Relief that he had waited to walk home with you after all. Relief that you’re still here, and in his arms. He’s so overwhelmingly, heart-achingly relieved. And he takes his time holding you in his arms, breathing you in. Everything is washing over him so strongly right now, and his pulse is thrumming, his endorphins are running, his heart is pounding.

 

Kita takes his time to savor this. To relish in the feeling of you in his arms, the scent of your hair climbing into his nose, the warmth he feels even when pressed against your relatively cool body. And he savors the feeling of you melting into his embrace, resting your head into the crook of his neck and sighing.

 

“Thank goodness…” he breathes at one point. “Thank goodness that you’re okay.”

 

Your hands are fisted into the remains of his shirt that hangs off of the chair he’s still sitting on, and you seem to be suppressing your voice, but Kita can feel something wet trailing down his collarbone and shoulder as you hum a choked, “Mhm.”

 

Kita pulls you closer, wanting to hush you and tell you it’s alright, but he lets you sob it out. It’s cruel, what you just had to go through. It’s clear as day that even if you may be one of the most powerful demons to walk this earth, you’re still just a young girl. You’re scared and vulnerable and without your family, like any young girl would be. And you don’t deserve something like this.

 

He runs a gentle hand down your back, but stops in his tracks when you gasp and freeze up in pain. Looking down and moving his hand, he sees that it’s covered in blood, and when he rips open the back of your shirt (it can’t be salvaged anyway), he sees that the cut Souichirou left on your back is deep and gruesome. And suddenly, he’s shaking with anger again.

 

“It can’t be healed.” you tell him, pulling away from his embrace, “It was a purified knife. A strong one.”

 

When he grits his teeth in anger, you smile gently and place a hand on top of his that’s resting on your elbow. “I’ll be okay. It’s just going to have to heal at a regular human’s pace.” you chuckle, although there’s no humor in the sound.

 

“I’m sorry.” he confesses.

 

“Huh?” you look up, genuinely.

 

“I’m sorry you had to go through all of that. I’m sorry I didn’t understand your pain up until now. And… I’m sorry that I couldn’t protect you. You never deserved any of this.” he means all of it. There’s no doubt in his mind that this might be wrong in the eyes of other demon hunters, but he means it.

 

“Kita-kun, it’s not like it’s your fault. Or your responsibility.”

 

“I’m going to get you your parents back.” he announces.

 

Your expression freezes, although it doesn’t look any less confused than it did before, “What?”

 

“I’m going to get them back for you.” he repeats, just as firm as the first time he said it.

 

“But, Kita-kun… You’ll get in so much trouble,” You seem torn. Just last week, you were begging him to go into the shrine and sneak the jar out for you, but now you don’t look so sure about it.

 

“I know. But you’re right. About demons and how humans treat them. I realize that now.” Kita admits, staring into your eyes that have faded back into their usual colors, “So I’m going to get them back for you.” No matter the consequences, he adds mentally.

 

You stare at him for a long time, probably thinking about a lot of things. But eventually, what you end up saying is, “I’m going to have to leave town.”

 

That figures. You can’t very well go to school with a demon hunter on your tail every day. And he’s likely spread the word through the association that you’re on the loose, and could possibly grow into the threat he is so adamant into believing you will be. It sucks that this is probably just a repeat of what you’ve had to do several times before. You mentioned that this is how you had to leave your last home too.

 

Kita… doesn’t want to see you go. Truly, he doesn’t. And he knows this. His heart wouldn’t be aching so painfully in his chest at your announcement otherwise. But this is what has to be done, and he’s always taken care of what needs to be done. “I know.” he says in a solemn whisper, letting his hands slide down your arms just slightly, smearing some of the blood from the cut on your left upper tricep. “I’ll miss you.”

 

The air grows stagnant and intense between the two of you, like time has frozen. Suddenly, the faint moonlight trickling into your kitchen window seems insignificant. Like it only shines to let you bathe in the shadows it creates. Because even in the darkness, you glow brighter than anything.

 

Kita realizes that you’re really quite beautiful. You’re so beautiful that he can’t bring himself to look away. He just wants to soak in this dense atmosphere, feel your presence weigh in on the room. Even with blood and streaks of tears on your face, he thinks you’re beautiful. Does that mean there’s something wrong with him?

 

Can you tell that he thinks that way about you? Have you always suspected that he’s been drawn to you even when he’s rejected your advances? Your eyes tell him that you’re waiting for something. Maybe for him to do something? What should he do? All he wants to do is keep staring at you, drinking you in and savoring this fragile moment between you.

 

But you’re waiting for him. You’re waiting and waiting, but you seem to break through a threshold at some point. So when you finally lift up to your full height on your knees, you press your lips softly against his. He’s still for a moment, in slight shock, but he eventually brings himself to close his eyes and press back.

 

You taste like blood. Drying blood. His drying blood. It should be gross and it honestly kind of is, but Kita focuses on the pressure of your mouth moving against his, the texture of it. It’s soft, but it has some force behind it. As expected, your body temperature is a few degrees cooler than his, but it’s not like he dislikes it. If anything, your fingers running down his chest kind of cool his heating body.

 

You’re surprisingly submissive to him, after all that dirty talk you blew into his phone. Once his hands are on your shoulders, your knees falter a bit and you’re sitting on your calves on the floor. So Kita has to lean his head down to keep hold of your lips so he can slip his tongue in between yours. The action is a lot more domineering than he had intended it to be.

 

But you’re shivering in delight. Your hands rest on his thighs and allow him to probe your mouth shallowly, revelling in his assertive movements. You even let out an excited whimper when you open your mouth wider to let him push just a little deeper against your tongue. Wow, you are getting really enthusiastic about this, because your hands are traveling further up his thighs in delighted reaction to his kiss.

 

But.

 

“Kita-kun.” you heave a heady gasp when he pulls away.

 

He’s getting kind of excited too.

 

He muffles your small yelp when he goes right back in to kiss you again. Your fingers cling to the fabric of his torn sweatpants, and you moan eagerly at the now familiar sensation of his tongue in your mouth.

 

Yes, he likes this. Probably more than he should. Maybe the fact that he likes it at all is wrong, but he’s done with making judgements of what’s right and wrong based on the fact that you have demon blood in your veins.

 

That demon tongue of yours is what saved him from a possibly fatal injury if he lost too much blood. Those demon hands of yours have healed all his other injuries not just once before as well. Those beautiful demon eyes and that incessant demon mouth capture him without you even having to cast a spell on him. And that demon heart that pulses in your chest and sends blood to your cheeks when you think of him and draw him and coddle him…

 

It’s his now.

 

Maybe it was his for a while, but he’s taking ownership of it with both hands now. And he’s not relinquishing it to anyone. Much less a moraless demon hunter who’s willing to take innocent lives based on fear alone.

 

The thought of that ruthless man who just tried to kill you twice over sets Kita’s nerves on fire, and he unconsciously moves an arm around your waist to pull you tighter against him, which ignites a thrilled moan in your throat. You’re pushing desperately up against him, clearly wanting more. Your fingers are trickling farther up his thighs to hook onto the waistband of his pants.

 

What’s scary is that Kita wants to give you more. He wants to give you everything without thinking of the repercussions. He wants to fill your heart to the brim and let it overflow so that you’re never unhappy again. He never, ever wants to see you in despair again.

 

“Mmph!” you yelp when he places his hand that’s not on your waist on the back of your head, pushing you closer still.

 

He wants you. You’re so much, but he wants it all.

 

He knows you have to leave, but he doesn’t want to let you go at all. For the first time, he wants to be stronger. Rather than being content with his own skillset and reliability, he wants to be stronger. For you. To protect you, so that he can keep you by his side. It’s never been so frustrating to be weak.

 

“Ah!” you pull away suddenly. In the ferocious whirlpool of his emotions, Kita had irritated the large wound on your back. But the breakaway gives you both a chance to catch your breath.

 

Even though Kita could probably spend the rest of the evening here kissing you in these bloodstained clothes and scraped skin, he should probably stop himself before he hurts you unintentionally. So pulling his hands away from your body, he stands, “We should go get you cleaned up.”

 

Your pout is small, but Kita sees it nonetheless. But you bounce back rather easily as you rise to your feet — shakily because you had been on your knees for a while. Then you take his hand and lead him upstairs to the bathroom. Kita just follows you without a word, right into the small tiled hallway just outside the door to the bathing room, where you grab your shirt collar with both hands and tear the already ruined blouse apart and let it drop to the floor.

 

Kita has to look away for a moment, a small flush warming his cheeks, because that was actually kind of hot. Also, your bra was already cut through when Souichirou slashed your back, so the straps just fall to the ground as well when you reach down to unzip your skirt. As you’re pulling your underwear and socks off, Kita can’t ignore the hideous gash that stretches diagonally across the majority of your back.

 

Stepping forward on instinct, he places a gentle hand underneath the deep fissure that damn hunter cut into your skin. He can’t quell the anger that bubbles up in his chest, it’s just so strong. You feel his shaky, angry breath fan your skin and you turn around to look up at him with a smile. Only you would be able to smile in a situation like this.

 

“Hey, it’s okay. I’ll be fine.” you say soothingly, caressing his face. How is it that you’re the one who’s comforting him in this situation?

 

“You need stitches.” his voice is strained, still holding in his rage.

 

“I’ll call a friend.” you fish your phone out of your skirt pocket and message someone.

 

“You should go to a doctor.”

 

“And have them ask questions about how I got this? No thanks.” you type away. The person responds right away. That’s a good sign. “Besides, this is a friend from my community. I can trust him.” you smile up at Kita with a wink before placing your phone down on the sink counter.

 

Kita tries not to be bothered by the word ‘him’ as you tug on his sweatpants, “Now, let’s get these off. You have to help me clean the wound.” you lift your face up to touch the tip of his nose with your, chuckling giddily as you pull both the pants and boxers down together.

 

He’s already shirtless since you had torn it apart to clean his wound downstairs earlier, so now he’s just as naked as you are. And you are so very openly ogling him. “Hmm… As expected, you don’t disappoint, Kita-kun.” you run your hands down his bare hips briefly and leave a peck on his lips before disappearing into the bath area.

 

Kita wants to say that he was unaffected by that, but he is clenching his eyes shut and trying to calm the blood rushing to his ears right now. So he takes a deep breath and steps in after you, closing the door behind him.

 

You’ve got the water running in the bathtub already, so you’re plopped on the plastic stool and filling the plastic bucket on the tile counter with hot water from the faucet. “Kita-kun, can you use this to rinse my back?”

 

Without a word, Kita walks over to sit on the edge of the bathtub since you’re sitting on the only stool. Taking the filled bucket, he dips his cupped hand into the water to carry a small amount to spill onto your back. You shiver just a little, but you don’t seem to be in too much pain, so Kita continues pouring water onto your back, little by little, while you use the spray wand to wash the blood off of your face.

 

Some of the water you use to rinse your hair trickles down your back, making you hiss a little. So it does hurt. But Kita just continues to drizzle water along your back until the reddish water becomes a lighter pink. Your body has stopped most of the heavy bleeding already, which is incredibly impressive. So Kita begins pouring the water onto your back directly from the bucket as you rinse shampoo out of your hair from the other side.

 

Luckily, there isn’t too much dirt to clean off from your wound, despite the fact that you were rolling on the floor in pain earlier. God, Kita cannot get the horrendous images and sounds of your pain and suffering from Souichirou’s savage hands out of his mind. Which makes sense, since he’s staring at the after-effects of it right in the face.

 

On whim, Kita leans down to gently press his lips on your back, a spot above the middle of your wound. You’re in the middle of rinsing shampoo out of your hair, so you look at him from your head’s hanging position curiously. Then you smile and spray him with the wand, shooting water into his face.

 

To his credit, Kita doesn’t even flinch, only closes his eyes in reflex. But he isn’t above pouring the remaining water in the bucket over your head for revenge. Your cough and splutter and splash back at him, laughing brightly, and Kita finally brings himself to smile at the sound.

 

It takes a good fifteen minutes for Kita to deem your wound clean enough for you to transfer to the bath, ever the perfectionist he is. But while you’re soaking, he takes his turn to wash the blood and grime off his body on the stool. It’s incredible, your healing powers. He doesn’t feel a bit of pain on the wounds you healed on his stomach and arms. The cuts and scratches on his legs sting just a little from the heat, but he can live with that.

 

When he finishes rinsing shampoo out of his hair and uses his hand to push it back, he turns to find you staring at him, your chin resting easily on your arms that are crossed on the edge of the tub. “What?” he asks for no reason.

 

“Nothing.” you answer.

 

So he goes back to his task of rubbing soap over his body, allowing bubbles to lather all over his skin. He can still feel your curious gaze on him, but he tries not to think too much of it. It’s just another daily task you’re watching. Kind of like when he plays volleyball in front of a crowd. He’s still doing the same thing, just in front of an audience.

 

“Can I suck your cock, Kita-kun?”

 

Okay, that is not something that the audience in the volleyball gymnasium would say, though. The shock factor catches him off balance enough for him to raise his voice just a little in outrage, “Hah?”

 

You break into a fit of giggles, and Kita is suddenly embarrassed. Kita doesn’t get embarrassed. But there you are, completely amused by his candid reaction. He can’t even bring himself to be upset because you just look so happy. “I just wanted to see how you’d react. But this is more than I could have ever expected.” you laugh giddily, hiding your mouth behind your hands.

 

“Is this how you react when I call you at night, Kita-kun?” you melt into a demure smile, “Would you like to see up close what I’m doing when I’m calling you?”

 

He would, to be brutally honest. But he’d rather get slashed up again by Souichirou than admit that to you, so he just splashes the bucket of water at you, “Idiot. You need to get stitched up before you’re doing anything.”

 

“Ehhh…” you pout as he goes back to rinsing the soap off of his body.

 

The rest of the bath is kind of humorous like that. You just banter back and forth until you decide you’re done soaking. Kita omits the bath in favor of helping you dry off your wound. He’s careful not to make any harsh contact with the cleaned gash, and you grab his face to give him a kiss of appreciation.

 

After wrapping your wet hair up in a towel, you lead him to your bedroom so you can slip on a pair of underwear and athletic shorts, as well as lend Kita some clean clothes from your dad’s room. To keep anything else from coming in contact with your back wound, you slip an apron on around your neck, while Kita ties the waist strings low. He also sealed and lined your wound with butterfly bandages for the time being while you waited for your friend to show up.  

 

Kita tries not to let his imagination run too wild, but you’re making it awfully hard for him when you start cooking for him in that getup. He had just gotten off the phone with his grandmother, detailing the day’s events and notifying her that he wouldn’t be home for a while today so he can make sure your wounds are tended to.

 

“Oh, just stay the night over there, Shin-chan. I’m sure she’ll appreciate your company. We can make do without you for a day.” she had a giddiness about her voice when she had said that.

 

Then he walks into the scene of you cooking almost naked in that pink apron of yours, your wet hair pinned up with a clip, stir-frying something that smells amazing. And then you turn your head over to call over to him, “Kita-kun, would you do me a favor and throw away the bloody clothes in the bathroom? Just toss them with the other ones in that garbage bag over there.” you nod towards the black trash bag by the table that holds his bloody shirt.

 

You’re asking him to tidy up around the house. How fucking domestic is that? “You can use the glove over by the sink.” you point your chin to said gloves.

 

Well, it’s not like he’s got anything else to do, and he’s pretty good with cleaning. So he slaps on the gloves and gets to it. He even takes some paper towels and wipes down the blood stains on the bathroom and kitchen floors with disinfectant until there isn’t a trace of it anymore.

 

Once he stands and disposes of the paper towels and gloves, you slide the plate of that scrumptious smelling dish Kita smelled earlier onto the table and glide over to him. “Aw, Kita-kun, you didn’t have to do all of that. You’re so very sweet.” you drape your arms around his neck and bring him in to kiss you.

 

Honestly, he could get used to this, which makes it scary. Because once he gets used to it, then he’s going to miss you that much more. Kita rests his hands as low as he can to avoid touching your wound, but also not make it seem like he’s trying to cop a feel. You, however, don’t seem to mind at all, and arch your butt out to move the curve of his hands.

 

Pulling away from his mouth with a little smooching sound, you smile against his lips, “You can give it a little squeeze if you want.”

 

He’s very tempted. And when you pull him in to sensually move your lips against his, his fingers twitch and ache to press against something softer. Something that he knows is literally at his fingertips. So when you move to arch yourself closer to him, he slowly starts sliding his hands down to cup the curve of your butt.

 

And, oh, it is so very soft. Yes. He wants to say that just resting them there is enough, but once you arch your hips back, he can’t help but squeeze at the voluptuous flesh beneath your shorts. The softness of your lips against his mouth and the softness of your ass in his hands, it’s such a perfect combination. He could very well spend a few hours of his day doing this.

 

Alas, it’s short-lived, because the doorbell rings and you pull away from him. “That’s Hana-san. I’ll go let him in. You can start eating first, Kita-kun. I’ve already set it up.” you very intentionally take your time to slide your arms down his neck and chest before twirling away to answer the door.

 

Kita drags a hand down his face and sighs. He got caught up in your pace. Again.

 

Sitting his ass down on one of the chairs at the table, he’s overcome by the scent of the beef stir-fry you made and set in front of him. The dish is also filled with colorful vegetables and covered in a shiny glaze of something he knows will taste amazing. You’ve set up a bowl of rice and utensils for him, as well as a cup of tea.

 

But on the other side of the table sits a single rice bowl, filled only halfway with the staple carb and topped with a generous heap of raw beef and a raw egg. It doesn’t look like it’s marinated or seasoned or anything. In fact, the blood is plentiful from the raw meat, and it soaks into the white rice, painting it red.

 

Kita knows that demons’ main source of sustenance is blood, but he didn’t know that you could get so fancy with it. Or maybe you’re just dressing it up on purpose as not to upset his appetite. He wouldn’t doubt it, considering you’ve been raised to consider endless ways to curry humans’ favor.

 

You’re chatting casually with an older man when you reenter the kitchen. Kita stands to greet him when you introduce the man as Hanazawa-san, a doctor at a small clinic in the city that has a large demon clientele. “But he used to work as a surgeon in a regular human hospital, so he’s mainly doing charity work now.” you say playfully.

 

“Well, when you’ve been through life as much as I have, you do what you can to give back.” Hanazawa replies, “Now let’s take a look at that wound, [Name]-chan.”

 

“Okay~” you sing as you pull two silver bags out of a small refrigerator on kitchen counter. “A drink for you, sensei?” you offer him one of the bags like it’s a beer.

 

“Oh, thank you.” he says, taking the children’s juice bag looking beverage, but putting it aside for the time being. He has you straddle the back of the chair in front of your meal while he pulls up another one to start assessing and dressing your wound.

 

“Thanks for the meal.” You hum as you break the seal on your silver packet and suck on the opening to take a few gulps of what Kita suspects is blood. “Go ahead and eat, Kita-kun. That’s all for you.” you wink.

 

“Thank you for the meal.” he puts his hands together in gratitude before digging in. It tastes as delicious as it smelled and looked. Every bit of it. He’s surprised you know how to cook this well when you don’t even eat human food.

 

As you start taking small casual bites of your raw beef dish, Hanazawa starts peeling away the butterfly bandages, “So how’d you get such a nasty gash like this anyway?”

 

“You know that hunter man from the Ebita Shrine over by the edge of the city?”

 

“Do I.” Hanazawa chortles, “A very unpleasant man, that one is. Probably the most ruthless of them all in this area because he was hired by the imperial shrines.”

 

“Well yeah, he captured my parents.” you say it like you got a bad grade on your test.

 

“Oh no, I’m so sorry to hear that, [Name]-chan.” Hanazawa’s voice becomes softer, more sympathetic.

 

“So am I.” you sigh, taking another slow bite of your beef and rice. “Anyway, I tried approaching him and asked for them back, but he found out that we’re a family of white eyes and just attacked me.”

 

Hanazawa snorts, which surprises both you and Kita. “Sometimes it amazes me how naive you are, [Name]-chan. Who walks up to a hunter and simply asks for their demon parents back?”

 

Kita just continues to eat and listen to this conversation that’s happening as casually as any other dinner chat. The topics are rather serious, but you’re speaking about them so easily. And Hanazawa seems rather used to it as well. It’s kind of upsetting, in a way.

 

“Well, I brought Kita-kun there with me as a sponsor, so to speak.” you gesture to Kita as if that should justify your reasoning, “He’s actually a hunter too, but he saved me. Twice.” you look up and smile at him secretly.

 

“How admirable. A hunter joining the movement, eh?” Hanazawa spares a smile and glance over at Kita before returning to stitching you up. You haven’t made a sound up until this point, which impresses Kita immensely.

 

“Movement?” Kita pipes up.

 

“Oh yeah,” Hanazawa tone rises like he’s sharing a story from the news, “There’s like whole underground civil rights movement for demons going on right now. It hasn’t been advancing too far in the past decades, but it’s the understanding of newer generations like yours that aid us in our long battle, young man.”

 

“Ah,” Kita says politely, albeit awkwardly, “Yes, [Surname] has been telling me about it. In tidbits.”

 

“A fine way to start learning.” Hanazawa nods, “It’s a blessing to see more people are willing to listen.”

 

“Ow!” you finally yelp in pain at one of the stitches.

 

“Oops, sorry. This part’s a bit tender because this is where the wound cut deepest. Bear with me.” he warns you as he continues stitching your back.

 

As Kita and you continue eating, Hanazawa eventually pops the cap on his own blood bag to take a gulp before getting back to work on dressing your wound. You both talk casually about what’s going on in the demon community, and even that boy Kita ran into the other night is brought up. The light atmosphere and casual lifestyle of most demons you converse about really makes it clear to Kita that it is possible to coexist. Demons and humans are people alike and it is very possible to live among each other.

 

When Hanazawa finishes stitching you up, he has you take off the apron so he can wrap you up in some protective gauze. Kita tries not to antagonize Hanazawa with his glare as he winds his hand around your naked torso many times. It doesn’t seem to work however, since the doctor catches Kita’s gaze and gives him an amused smile and wink that reminds him uncannily of you. Are all demons this playful?

 

Once you’re wrapped up like a mummy up to your chest and over one shoulder, Hanazawa tells you to keep the bandages on for a good 24 hours. “I know you’re a fast healer, [Name]-chan, but you have to be careful with purified knife wounds. So try not to engage in any… rigorous activity while you’re healing.” The doctor’s gaze flits playfully between you and Kita. “You can bathe and redress the bandages after that 24 hours, alright?”

 

“Yes, sensei~” you sing, thanking him once again before he leaves with another blood bag you offer him.

 

Once he’s out the door, you hop back into the kitchen in your new mummified torso. Kita had been washing the dishes while you were being bandaged, so the kitchen is clean now and he supposes he has nothing left to do here. When you approach him, he turns to face you, “I’ll retrieve your parents tomorrow, when there are more people in the shrine and while Souichirou is likely still incapacitated. You can probably go as soon as I get them to you. I think it’d be best if you wait until you’re settled in a safe area before releasing your family. But do you think you can find someone to open it for you?”

 

Your face drops as Kita talks, clearly upset about the reminder that you have to leave. You frown but answer anyway, “I’ll find someone, I guess…”

 

“Alright. Then I should probably… go. Will you be alright for the rest of the evening?” Kita finds himself asking, even though leaving is the last thing he wants to do. He wants to savor every last moment he can with you.

 

“Kita-kun, stay here. With me.” You say gently, but with a tone of finality. And the look in your eyes is enough to pierce his heart. It’s clear that you’ve taken slight offense to his intention to go, almost like you’re hurt by it. He’s sorry he ever even thought about leaving you on your own tonight.

 

When he doesn’t say anything, you walk up to him and put your hands on his waist, “If you’re sending me off tomorrow, then I want you here with me tonight. All of you. For the whole night.” You adamantly hook your fingers into the waistband of his pants, determination flashing all too familiarly in your eyes.

 

Kita grabs your wrist, “The doctor told you not to put any strain on your body while you’re healing.” He reminds you, but he’s losing the fight in his voice. The more he thinks about it, the more he wants to give you everything you want before he loses you.

 

Your lips spread into a lazy, Cheshire smile, “Then be gentle with me.”

 

So without much more struggle, you have Kita sitting on a kitchen chair he pulled out minutes later, while you’re between his legs and sucking him off. God knows that this is probably going to be the best head he’s ever going to receive in his life. Anything you do to him is probably going to be the greatest thing that’s ever happened to him.

 

His hands have found purchase in your still slightly damp hair, your clip sitting somewhere on the table. He’s groaning your name softly as your mouth slowly bobs up and down on his length. You hum occasionally when his head hits the back of your throat, and the vibrations send his hips into a frenzy. It’s amazing, what you’re doing to him with your mouth.

 

It’s kind of torturous losing the warmth of it when you pop off to fan your breath on his hard length. But you’re quick to replace it with your hand, warming him back up with quick pumps and an eager smile. “I’ve been dreaming about this, Kita-kun. To think the day would finally come where I can feel you with my own hands. Taste you with my own lips.” you make a point of of wrapping said lips around his swollen head, sucking at it while digging your tongue into the slit.

 

“Ugh.” Kita involuntarily throws his head back, clutching at your head tighter. Clearly, you know how to put your thoughts into practice. There are so many things happening at once; your mouth sucking and licking around his tip, one hand pumping and rolling the length of his shaft with your twitching wrist, another hand fondling his balls. And then he brings his gaze back down to look at you.

 

Maybe it was a mistake, because you just look so content and pleased to have your hands and mouth on him, to give him pleasure. Kita sighs as he absentmindedly runs one hand affectionately down the back of your head, and you meet his eyes with a mouthful of him.

 

That’s when you really drive down on him. Your hand on his length lowers down to the base so you can start bobbing your head unabashedly down the entire thing with a speed that he wasn’t ready for. Kita spits out curses that he didn’t even know he knew until they’re already out of his mouth, and you’re still pumping at him with your warm mouth, relentless.

 

“I’m… going to…” It’s weird. Despite the fact that he’s engaging in such a sexual activity, he can’t bring himself to say it with his own mouth.

 

It doesn’t seem to matter to you either way, because when he does come, you let him do so in your mouth, without letting a drop escape. The feeling of you swallowing around him, it’s so warm and tight and… incredibly hot. He can feel the heat spreading up his neck and across his face as he watches you pull your lips away from him only to lap up an extra drop that forms and falls over the side.

 

He wants to groan and bury his own face in between your legs, and find out just how enjoyable it is to pleasure someone he lo—

 

Whoa there.

 

That word just slipped out almost too easily. Does he… really feel that strongly about you? It’s been but a few weeks since he first officially talked to you, caught you stealing, allowed you to badger him, took you to shrine, and watched you almost get killed. Twice. Do things like that transpire into something as strong as… that word? Even in as short of an amount of time as that?

 

Kita is usually sure of everything. Sure of his duties, his skills, his logic, his emotions… But you suddenly created such a whirlwind in his diligent routines, and made such a mess of him. He can’t be so sure of anything anymore. From his perspective on demons to his sense of integrity, you’ve prodded and clung to him until he was wrapped around your finger.

 

It’s not like you did it intentionally either. You’re still an inexperienced, occasionally ditzy, school girl who bluffs her way into getting Kita to do your demon bidding. But you think of him for hours of the day, calling him, texting him, drawing him, and you blush when he finds out you might have fallen deeper into him than you want to admit. Maybe it wasn’t your intention to like him so much either.

 

But you’re not really giving Kita much more time to think about it, because you’re pulling down your shorts and panties to throw aside so you can spread your legs and straddle him on the chair. He can taste lingering essences of his scent when you mold your lips onto his, not wasting a moment to lick across the seam of his lips.

 

He’s concerned about the direct contact of your cunt against the underside of his cock, but his hands fall prey to the supple flesh of your ass and squeezes it, pushing your slit ever closer against him. You moan helplessly at the friction, grabbing onto the stile ears on the back of the chair to help you rub and grind yourself against his length that is hardening again at an unreasonable speed.

 

“Kita-kun,” you whine as you pull away from his mouth, leaning down to bite and pull at the collar of the t-shirt he borrowed. Off , you emanate.

 

He’s fallen into your pace, because he brings his hands away from your soft ass to pull the shirt that offends you so over his head to drop on the floor. Once it’s out of the way, you latch your lips onto the skin above his chest, sucking at it while still desperately rocking your hips against his.

 

Kita is panting. Panting from so many things. Your mouth on his chest, your legs on his thighs, your ass in his hands, and most of all, the heat of your pussy. Shit, it’s all so good. He has to bite down on your good shoulder to hold himself back, because his hips are itching to buck right up into yours. He wants to be rough — and he has a feeling that you’d like it — but the light scratch of the gauze tape that creates a barrier on your soft skin reminds him to be careful.

 

“Ah, ah!” you pant against his neck as you rub harder against him. Kita can feel you bringing one of your hands that was clutching the back of the chair down to rub between your legs. “Kita-kun,” you breathe as you pull back a few inches to settle more towards the middle of his thighs rather than right up against his crotch, “Watch me.”

 

He tries not to make his gulp obvious as Kita’s eyes trail down to follow your hand, until they reach your fingers that are gently sliding along the line of your slit. But once his eyes land on your swollen pussy, he can’t tear them away. The tip of your middle finger makes languid circles at the top of your slit where your clit is. You rub at the small bundle of nerves until you’re panting helplessly, and then once you’re moaning louder to signal your approaching peak, you slide your fingers right into your entrance.

 

It’s incredible how your two middle digits just disappear inside your slit, and Kita watches attentively at your moving knuckles, which give him an idea of how you’re pumping and hooking and bending your fingers inside your wet heat. “Damn…” he breathes without a thought.

 

“Oh!” your moan spikes up an octave, which makes Kita think that you’ve hit a good spot inside your walls. But when you takes a moment to glance up, he sees that you’re staring at him with the most heady, hooded gaze he could ever imagine on you. Your other hand pulls away from the chair ear to slide slowly down his shoulder and chest, just feeling his skin. But you’re looking at him. Getting off to him.

 

The face you make when you yelp as you slide a third finger inside your cunt has Kita feeling a little delirious. Suddenly, he wants to be the one making you make that face. He wants to be the one pulling noises out of your mouth. He’s tired of listening, imagining what you look like when you’re coming apart to your own touch.

 

You’ve always gone on and on about how you’ve imagined him on top of you, inside of you, taking you from behind, even coming inside you. And Kita is loathe to admit that he fell victim to the images you planted in his mind of his body writhing against yours, but he wants them now. He wants to make you come, over and over if he can.

 

It’s animalistic how aggressively he slaps your hand away from your dripping pussy to replace it with his own. He didn’t use much force, but the action was so sudden that it was almost uncalled for. But just like you showed him earlier, he slides his middle finger right into your slick heat.

 

Your walls swallow him. It’s incredible. Your heat, your wetness, your expression. It’s all so good. When he puts in a second finger, you grasp at his shoulders and bite your lip, begging him to do more. More .

 

To appease your desires and give you just a little more at the same time, he curls his fingers forward, making your breath hitch. And while you’re off guard, he presses his thumb on your clit as well, rubbing tender but quick circles into it. You moan loud , squeezing around him to the point that it makes it challenging to continue moving his fingers around inside you.

 

“Yes, Kita-kun! Just like that.” you tremble, coming in for another kiss.

 

Kita barely lets you have a breath now that he’s getting a hang of how to work with your body. He pushes forward with his mouth and just takes over. Your fingernails are digging into his shoulders at the dominating swipes of his tongue in your mouth and the relentless fingers on your cunt. He won’t let you a centimeter into his own mouth, but just rampages in on yours, pushing your tongue back, sucking your lip, pressing mercilessly into you.

 

When you finally manage to pull away for breath, it’s to scream. You roll your head back and scream as you come apart from Kita’s fingers. Your pussy clenches and pulses helplessly against his digits and the secretion comes out to leak all over your and Kita’s thighs. It takes you a good minute to stop trembling on top of him, but when you do, he finally pulls his fingers out.

 

Curious, he swipes his tongue at one of his wet digits, tasting you. It’s a little salty, a little sweet, and definitely tastes like you. He can’t say he doesn’t like it, but he wonders if he tasted similar, and how you managed to swallow the entire thing.

 

However, he’s broken out of his contemplation when you grab and throw his wrist aside so you can grip at the stiles of the chair again as you mount him. “Oh, Kita-kun, I need you so bad. I need you inside of me. Please come inside of me.” you pant, not even waiting for his answer as you just aim yourself at his tip and sheathe the entire thing within seconds.

 

It’s tight.

 

You’re tight.

 

You’re so fucking tight.

 

And it feels amazing, goddamnit.

 

You’re moaning into his ear like you’re already in ecstasy, and wrapping your arms around his neck to feel more of his skin under your touch. Kita wants to moan too, it just feels so incredible. Your pussy grips him like a vice and he’s in so much heated pleasure that he doesn’t even know what to do next.

 

But you sure do. Holding tightly to his neck, you start pressing down into the balls of your feet on the floor to lift yourself up before lowering again to coat him in your wet heat. Shit. That friction is astounding. Before he knows it, Kita’s hands are back on your ass and helping you lift your weight onto and off of his shaft, trying not to strain your back.

 

“Fuck.” he hisses, eyebrows furrowing as his muscles strain to control the pace at which your body falls onto him. But the pleasure is marvelous enough to keep him going.

 

And eventually, you speed up your pace into a bounce, which Kita has no small part in increasing. His hands on your ass work tirelessly to slam you back down onto his hard cock in tune to your cries of pleasure. You won’t shut up, which is somewhat expected, considering how you never run out of things to say when talking to Kita through text or phone call or in person. But he has never appreciated your voice as much as he does right now.

 

“Ah fuck!! Kita-kun, it’s so good! Harder, Kita-kun, harder, harder. Oh my god… Your cock is so big, I feel so amazing right now. More Kita-kun, ugh. Just fuck me open.” you sob and howl and whimper at every bounce that lands his cock harder into you.

 

He finds it hard to focus on protecting the wound on your back when you have such a dirty mouth. It just presses him harder to fuck your orgasm right out of you. Kita wants you to come apart twice as hard as you did when you came around his fingers. He wants to feel that pussy pulsing just as violently on his cock.

 

And he knows he’ll get just that if he keeps going at this pace, because you’re struggling to find the best way to hold onto him. You hug his shoulders, his head, his chest, and combinations of them, but you can’t seem to stay fixed in one position when your hips are being pummeled onto Kita’s hot cock. Until finally, you announce your incoming peak, “I’m almost…” You don’t even finish because you end up crying out in pleasure again.

 

“Me too.” Kita grunts, still aggressively bringing your hips down to crash into his.

 

“Oh, Kita-kun. Come deep inside me.” You beg, and that does it for him. Kita holds your hips down tight in his hands as he pushes his hips again, as if going deeper as he comes inside you will better alleviate him.

 

As he slowly descends from his high, you hit yours. And your pussy grips around the entire surface area of Kita’s dick just like he hoped it would. You lock on him without mercy and roll your hips while you’re at it, extending the fluttery after effects of his orgasm. And with a last desperate moan of his name, you come too, hard and full of movement.

 

You roll your hips against his until your body completely loses gas, and then you collapse on his chest, fitting your head into the crook of his neck to pant heavily. Kita wants to hug you closer to him, but to keep his arms away from your back injury, he wraps them low around your waist and pulls you close. You press closer with him still inside you, and the small bit of friction is enough to make him sigh in content.

 

Once you’re breathing at a normal pace again, you lift your head to kiss him deeply. And Kita lets you push against him this time, but not without pushing right back. Your lips move against each other’s in lazy tandem, bodies feeling ephemeral in the aftermath of your highs.

 

You want to stay like this, Kita can tell. But by the way you’re stiffening your back, he can tell all the movement is starting to aggravate your wound. In fact, he can see a bit of blood dotting the bandages along the diagonal line and he realizes he must have been too rough after all, despite trying hard to hold back.

 

Son a bitch, you don’t even seem to care. You’re already rolling your hips side to side on top of his shaft again, moaning softly against him as you body builds up more pleasure. So Kita takes hold of your arms and pulls you away from his torso, “You need to settle down. Your wound is going to reopen.”

 

“But Kita-kun,” you pout, wiggling your hips just a little more, “You’re already getting hard again.”

 

Damn it all, he is. But how can he not when you’re so purposely clenching hard around him? “No, we have to stop.” he keeps his voice firm. “You’re going to make all of Hanazawa sensei’s work pointless.” he uses his remaining strength to grip your upper thighs and lift you off of him.

 

You bawl over the loss of heat and fullness, but your voice falters when your legs tremble underneath your weight. Kita stands smoothly to catch you by the ass and pivot your weight onto the chair he had just vacated. The look on your face is of humorous outrage, “Excuse me? I don’t recall being the only one enjoying myself. You looked pretty damn guilty manually driving me onto your cock, Kita-kun.”

 

Despite your playful joke and even though Kita’s and your bodies have been pulled apart, the emotional tension is still stagnant in the room. So Kita leans in gently to press his lips into yours briefly before pulling back to whisper in his deepest voice, “I am. Sorry about that.”

 

Maybe the deep, post-sex voice thing worked. Maybe he embarrassed you. Or maybe you still have some sense of self preservation even after begging for him so desperately. But somehow, you end up blushing and becoming a modest shell again. He finds your flustered reaction so cute.

 

Taking mercy on you, he relinquishes you from the intimate stare and pulls back to say “I’ll be right back.” Kita returns upstairs to the bathroom to retrieve a towel from the cabinet of them he got one from earlier and brings it back down to you, who he sees is absentmindedly rubbing your hands up and down along the lengths of your thighs.

 

Tempting, but no. He has you stand up on your shaky legs and hold his shoulders for support while he cleans you up with the towel. And just like cleaning anything else, he’s thorough and detailed, albeit extra gentle since it’s your body.

 

Once you’re good, he takes a clean spot on the towel to wipe down the chair too. Miraculously, nothing got on the floor, so he just pushes it back under the table before picking up the clothes you both had stripped off. When he hands you your bottoms and apron, he catches sight of your expression, which can be described as nothing but pure awe. Awe and gratefulness.

 

Reactively, he looks away to slip his own clothes back on. After pulling up your underwear and shorts as well, you sidle up to tuck yourself underneath his arm to press against his side. Wrapping your arms around his waist, you bring your lips to his neck in a tender kiss, “You’re so sweet, Kita-kun.”

 

Kita doesn’t know what to say, but when he opens his mouth in attempt to come up with something, you pull away and lead him back up by the hand to your bedroom. Once you’re on the second floor, you bounce on your feet giddily, “Come sleep by me tonight.”

 

“Shouldn’t you brush your teeth first.” he deadpans thoughtlessly, still following routine even in this situation.

 

“Ehhh…” you whine, turning back to him with an unbelievable expression.

 

“Let’s go.” he pulls your hand back in the direction of the bathroom to fulfill the basic needs of hygiene and social expectation. You follow begrudgingly and provide Kita with a spare toothbrush so you can brush side by side at the sink. Against his will, Kita finds himself glancing over to you or your reflection quite often, and you just smile around your foamy toothbrush back at his reflection.

 

It’s kind of an intimate situation, not to mention super fucking domestic again, but Kita doesn’t feel a hint of awkwardness in the air. In fact, if he wasn’t worried about smacking you in the face with his elbow from brushing his teeth, he would step closer to you just because.

 

You don’t let him escape your side when you’re both finished and back in your bedroom though. Turning the lights out, you don’t allow Kita to adjust to the darkness and just attack him with a giggle, crashing into him on top of the bed. “Hey!” he warns, catching and breaking your fall as best he can to avoid more damage to your injury, but you squirm on and around him until you’re both snuggled up underneath your blanket together.

 

“That was unnecessary.” he scolds, but allows you to tuck your head underneath his chin.

 

“I can’t help it, I just don’t want to be away from Kita-kun for even a second.” your muffled reply comes from against his neck.

 

Kita bites the inner part of his lip and ignores the heat he feels crawling up his cheeks, but he unconsciously pulls you closer, “Fine.” he whispers.

 

He spends the rest of the evening talking softly with you until you fall into a light slumber in his arms. And Kita starts thinking about how much he’s enjoying this. A huge breakaway from his routines, and he feels this amazing. It came with so much risk, but he can’t find it in himself to regret a single thing. There’s so much to learn, and he has a feeling that everything isn’t going to be as straightforward as it used to be.

 

There is so much for him to think about, and he knows that he’ll be far deeper into this than he ever was before, but he’ll do it. He’ll do it for you, and for the people you love. Because he…

 

Sighing into sleep, he presses his nose into your hair to fall into sleep before he can utter another thought to himself.

 

*

 

It wasn’t easy to get your parents back from the Ebita Shrine, but it was particularly difficult either. Kita had blended in with a large group of tourists before slipping away into the back temple where he had simply jumped across the barrier, took a minute to find the jar that he saw in your sketch before, and slipped it into an inconspicuous bag before quietly joining another large group around the shrine.

 

Since their main demon hunter is likely out of commission at the moment, there weren’t too many people to worry about. Of course, Kita saw a shrine worker here and there, and he was extra careful anyway, because demon hunters are nothing if not deceivingly casual before springing on their prey. But since the shrine is so busy, he didn’t run into many problems with getting caught.

 

Admittedly, the jar was well hidden, but it was practically the same storage system as the one at the shrine Kita visits every morning. Just in a much larger scale. There were truly far more jars in that one temple than Kita could even count; much more than the shelf full that Kita stocks for his own neighborhood.

 

On his way back to your home, he wonders how many of those demons captured were actually deserving of death. How many of them could have been helped, or saved. How you would feel if you saw such a thing.

 

When he knocks on your door, he has the jar in a protective bag in his hands. You open the door and he sees that there are cardboard boxes stacked up in the hallway. Not many, just about five or six, but Kita knows your departure is near. “Kita-kun! You got them!” you gasp.

 

“Of course I did.” he steps inside and closes the door behind him. “I promised, didn’t I?”

 

Reaching up on the balls of your feet, you plant a kiss on his lips, “You sure did. Thank you.”

 

He hums in reply and allows for a pause to linger before asking, “Are you… going now?” he doesn’t know if you can hear the sadness in his voice, but he had tried his best not to let it show through.

 

“I think I probably should.” you nod solemnly, “I already called the landlord about having our stuff moved separately. He understands the situation, thankfully.”

 

“Is he a demon too?” Kita asks.

 

“Yes. He’s allowed other demon families to live here before, since he knows how we can be on the run every few years or so. It’s yet another great connection in our big community.” You say it with gratefulness, but you still sigh, probably wondering why the situation still has to be this way anyway.

 

“He also contacted the school for me, telling them that my parents and I got into a car accident while out of town and that I wouldn’t be showing up for a while. I’d appreciate it if you acted clueless and tell that hunter that I disappeared if he shows up again.”

 

“Of course.” Kita answers immediately. Although he feels a tragic sense of pity that you have to get someone to lie about your whole family getting injured for something like this.

 

“Thank you.” you smile, “But anyway, I’m going to take the train up to Osaka for now, and we’ll see where I go from there once my parents are recovered. It might take a while, since they’ve been trapped in that thing for over two weeks now.”

 

“Yeah.” Kita doesn’t know if he should apologize for not understanding you and retrieving them sooner, but you just smile up at him with appreciation in your own.

 

“Thanks to you though, they at least have a chance to live now. You don’t know how grateful I am for what you’re doing for me, Kita-kun.” you slide your hands down his arms and gently curl your fingers around his, “Thank you.” the look in your eyes is going to make Kita combust, it’s filled with so much appreciation and affection and… and… love, that makes his heart beat fast and pulse pound in his ears and throat constrict from forgetting to breathe.

 

“Yeah.” is all he manages before you take his hand and your duffel in the other to lead him out of the house.

 

The trip to the subway station is far too short, and quite honestly, Kita doesn’t want to let go. He hasn’t been vocal about his feelings to you, but he wants to tell you right now not to go. Just to stay here and stand by that window where you always do and smile at him and draw in your sketchbook in the art clubroom and bother him during all his breaks and talk to him about all sorts of new things. He doesn’t want you to go.

 

But he needs to. No matter how he feels, you’re not safe here. And at Kita’s level, he can’t protect you. And now that you’ve beat down Souichirou twice, he’s definitely spread word about you to other hunters in the area. Even now, Kita feels anxious about you being out in broad daylight where any possible hunter can see you. He needs for you to be safe, so he has to let you go.

 

He has to, but once you make a move to walk into the station, his grip strengthens and you stumble back a little when he stops so abruptly. “Kita-kun.” you say curiously.

 

He’s looking down, unable to find the right words to say, only clenching his fist around the handles of the bag he’s holding. The bag that holds the weakened spirits of your parents that he can only hope are at least alive. He doesn’t know what he’d do if they ended up not making it and you were left alone.

 

“Kita-kun, stop thinking about unnecessary things. Everything is going to be alright.” you put your duffel down to face him and lift his chin. “I’ll be sure to contact you on the hour to update you, okay?”

 

He hesitates, and wants to shout at you to just wait another day, to have a chaperone who’s powerful enough to fend off a hunter to escort you there, to stay hidden somewhere else, to do… anything that would prevent you from leaving him today. But he can’t, so all he says is, “Okay.”

 

“Don’t think you’re going to get rid of me that easily, got it? I’ll see you again someday. So until then… thank you.” you lean up to kiss him tenderly, and he reflexively hugs you closer — gently as not to aggravate your injury. The kiss lasts for a good while, until Kita starts getting a little dizzy, actually.

 

When you pull away, you’re smiling, and taking what he thinks is a deep breath to recover from the kiss, before, “And… I love you.”

 

His eyes widen. He can’t stop them. Nor can he stop his skyrocketing heartbeat and thrumming pulse and reddening ears. You look like you really want to stop and make fun of him, but you just lift a white surgical mask up to cover your teasing smile. After hooking it onto your ears, you take the bag with the jar from Kita’s hands and pick up your duffel with a swift, “Goodbye, Kita-kun.”

 

And you take off. Like a whirlwind. You’ve disappeared into the subway station in a flash and Kita can only stand there, dumbfounded, staring after you.

 

You love him.

 

You love him.

 

There were so many moments in which Kita was hesitating in addressing his feelings for you, or putting a label to them. From when he first interacted with you up until you wrapped his body up in yours in the most intimate of settings. And he’s avoided it like he’s never avoided anything before.

 

And all you did was say it.

 

As easily as that. You confessed with a moment’s hesitation that you loved him and took off without needing an answer. Did you have a hunch that he felt the same? Or are you so confident that you’ll win him over that you didn’t need reassurance?

 

Regardless of either, Kita has to address it now. You love him. You said you love him. And he…

 

He loves you back.



***



“So~ I saw you on the news today.” your voice drawls to him over the phone, mischievously playful, which makes Kita suspect something.

 

“Were you watching the live play of nationals?” Kita simply asks in return.

 

“Mhmm~ And the personal interview. You looked like such a stud.” you praise so sweetly he swears it’s got an underlying message. But you’re probably being sincere. “So how was it? Being interviewed by the gorgeous Machino Ana?”

 

Ah, there it is.

 

A smirk pulls itself across Kita’s lips before he can stop it, “It was great, actually. I gave an honest answer about our team’s expectations, and she’s an attractive woman.”

 

You make something of an incredulous scoffing sound, “Did you really just say that to me, Kita-kun?”

 

“You asked.” he asks calmly, but there’s still a smirk on his face, “Are you jealous?”

 

“Me? Jealous? Of a successful and beautiful reporter that all bonehead jock boys drool over when they watch sports TV? Who even my own boyfriend openly admits to me is attractive?” your voice gets shriller as you continue, and Kita has to suppress his laughter behind him hand now, “How could I possibly be jealous ??”

 

“I might see her again. She’s interested in doing coverage for our school’s team. Perhaps I’ll ask for her contact information?” he pushes the joke a little, just to see how you’ll react.

 

“Kita Shinsuke-kun, you’re looking to get your head ripped off and your body sucked dry of blood by a jealous demon, aren’t you?” your voice is menacing, but he can still hear the humor hiding in it.

 

“You do know that demon women are two or three times as volatile as human women right? Because of the blood we take in, the chemical and hormonal balance in our bodies are different, so we’re more sensitive to our emotions and we react strongly to them. Why do you think you find so many crazy demon women rampaging through the streets? It’s highly possible that they just had their hearts broken. After they’ve been toyed with, they like to toy with men right back. It’s a curse of life; to be born both a demon and a woman, and still have periods .”

 

You’ve gone completely off tangent and forgotten about the pretty reporter you were using to bait him. He loves it when this happens. When you just get so caught up in demon and human dynamics that you just go on and on, and Kita gets to both hear your voice and learn more about what you’re passionate about.

 

As you go on about the estrogen ratios in human and demon women, he recalls that fox demon woman he had captured a few weeks ago. The one who had been taking over men’s bodies and causing a fuss. Had that been an act of revenge for a broken heart? Kita never would have bothered guessing.

 

“Is that so?” he replies when you finally finish. “So should I ask if they need a rebound or refer them to healthier alternatives to coping with heartbreak?”

 

“Oh hell no, those sly hussies will be all over you. What you do is you fucking tell those floozies to stay the fuck away from you, Kita-kun. And if they so much as move an eye to your crotch, just slash and bottle them up in your holy jar.”

 

Kita can’t hold it in anymore. He bursts out in laughter, putting a hand to his stomach to cope with the excessive use of his abdomen. You’re jealous one minute, then philosophical the next, only to turn downright malicious in another minute. It’s hilarious.

 

And maybe he’s kind of buzzed from the idea that you like him so much that you’d have him cut down any demon woman who eyed him the wrong way, even jokingly.

 

You talk and banter with him for several more minutes, about all sorts of things, and end the call on a positive note about your inevitable visit back home to take your college entrance exams and whatnot. And he shyly tells you he’s looking forward to seeing you in a hushed voice before you giggle back a giddy reply and hang up.

 

Taking a deep breath to calm his heart rate, Kita leans against the balcony railing of the hotel the Inarizaki boys’ volleyball club is staying at. It was only a phone call, but just talking to you still makes his body go a bit aflutter during parts of the conversation. He can only hope that his teammates didn’t hear too much through the glass door he slid closed before taking your call.

 

He lets the cool air blow against his warm face for a few minutes before steeling his  expression and returning to the room. Alas, it seems he won’t be able to get away from his teammates’ suspicions and mischievously teasing faces, “So… who was that, Shinsuke?” Ojiro waggles his eyebrows. “You were laughing it up out there.”

 

“Hm? No one you need to worry about.” he says calmly, going to dig through his bag for his pajamas to take a shower.

 

“You know, you’ve been on your phone quite often these days, Kita-san.” Atsumu looks perfectly natural lying down on his side like that, with his head resting in his palm and his elbow planted on his futon. But that smug look on his face is slyer than usual, “Is there someone you’re talking to? A lady friend, perhaps? One who left school a few weeks ago and likes feeding you oranges?”

 

“Atsumu, worry about yourself.” Kita replies coldly, reorganizing his bag so that it’ll be convenient to sift through his things later.

 

Atsumu sighs, sitting up, “Well, then I guess you leave us no choice, captain. Let’s hold him down!” he shouts like a battle cry before he and several other members of the volleyball club gang up on Kita and knock him to the floor, laughing and apologizing.

 

Kita is struggling to kick everyone off of this dog pile, but Osamu has already gotten ahold of his phone, and has flipped it open, “Osamu, stop!” he shouts.

 

“Eh… The last person on your call log is named ‘Thief.’ Why’s that? Did they steal something?” he asks in his usual unmoved expression, but he’s clicking around like he’s on a mission.

 

“Probably Kita-san’s heart~” Atsumu cackles before he’s thrown off into the line of futons. Several of his teammates fly off in different directions one by one just like Atsumu. Kita has started using his demon hunter combat skills. He cannot have Osamu digging any farther into his phone.

 

After coming to a standing position, he’s in front of last twin standing in seconds and has his hand out for his phone. Osamu wordlessly hands it back without a fuss, and bows in apology before walking off.

 

Kita takes the phone with him into the bathroom and keeps it in the pocket of his shorts as he prepares to wash up.

 

Those little brats. He cannot believe they ganged up on their captain like that. Kita thought he had developed more respect than that. To think they’re still pestering him about you even after all this time you’ve been gone. Maybe he hasn’t been discreet enough with his contacting you.

 

He tried to keep it on the down-low by only checking it briefly during school breaks, and before and after practice when he was back in the clubroom. There were times when he would message or talk to you all night, but he would try to keep them to a minimum. Even the faintest detail like exhaustion from sleep deprivation wouldn’t slide by his teammates. They were of that high of a caliber.

 

But as he begins washing up, his hand brushes against the faint line on his stomach. The only hint of a scar from that fateful night that Souichirou did a number on both him and you. He’s seen your scar; you’ve sent pictures. The stitches are out and you’ve healed up immensely, but the scar will probably be there permanently, leaving the trauma of that evening imprinted on your skin.

 

It still makes Kita’s teeth and fists clench when he thinks about it, and pushes him further into the world of demons and learning about them to help them. He’s starting to develop a reputation on demon advocacy, which is hopeful for the demons and inappropriate for the demon hunter association. But Kita knows there’ll be plenty more battles to come. And as long as he has you, he has something to fight for.

 

He chuckles as he remembers Osamu revealing your name on his phone as ‘Thief.’ And Atsumu, as cheeky as he is, was correct in that sense. He originally saved your contact information as ‘Thief’ because of that incident at the museum, but it’s amusingly appropriate in the metaphorical sense too.

 

Like you stole the necklace, you stole his heart. Slyly and right under his nose. You may have unintentionally left your own heart behind in his hands in the process, but you stole his and you got away with it.

 

And Kita doesn’t really want it back.

Notes:

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Chapter 15: Tanaka Ryunosuke - Led Me to You

Summary:

Body switching au, need I say more?

Notes:

hello, for those of you who used to know me as someone other than a kirishima natsuya whore, welcome back and thank you for being here again. you've all shown me consistent support by re-reading and leaving comments on this thread all this time, and now i've finally come back for you.

i have been writing this story on and off for the past year and a half, and despite all the time and effort put into it, it hasn't turned out to be my favorite. but you know i had to get this out in time for season 4. obviously i've been in so many different head spaces when putting this story together over this long period of time, so i apologize if it's not super cohesive as a whole. i hope it's still at least entertaining.

you know, if i didn't feel such a need to tell this story from beginning to end (and add smut) then maybe it wouldn't have ended up at 50k. could this be overcompensation? self-sabotage? idk you tell me. if you make it through, that is. please be forgiving with any mistakes i may have missed, and as a forewarning, the smut probably makes up about 1/50th of this entire story lol.

but here we are, and now you know why i haven't updated in almost two years. let's hope the next update doesn't take as long hahaha... *finger guns*

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

“Oi, ya got an extra pencil I can borrow?” 

 

“Ah—! I— Ep— Uh!!” 

 

With a sigh, you pop in to rescue your friend who’s about to have a nervous breakdown by sliding a spare pencil over to the boy at the desk behind her without a word. Your friend ceases stuttering and you hear a ‘thanks’ from both the guy and your friend. 

 

Once morning classes are over and the bell signals lunch, you turn around expectantly to your friend, who sighs in tiredness from taking notes before digging around for her lunch, “Fuka-chan, you work too hard during lecture.” You comment. 

 

“Ah, I can’t help it. I feel like the teachers talk a lot about stuff that’s not in the textbooks, so we might be tested on it later or something.” She reasons, organizing her books and pencils in her desk and bag before pulling out her lunch. “Okay, let’s go!” 

 

“Okay!”

 

“Hey,” you’re interrupted by a gruff voice that sends Fuka jumping with a small shriek. 

 

It’s the guy who needed a pencil, “Can I return this to you at the end of the day? I forgot my pencil bag today…” he rubs the back of his head sheepishly, although there’s a strange softness to his face as he says it. He’s got some naturally sharp and intimidating features though, so it’s a strange combination. 

 

“Huh? Ah, it’s fine.” 

 

“Really?!” His voice grows in volume, surprising you a bit at his enthusiasm. But he eventually clears his throat and thanks you again before stuffing his hands in his pockets and heading out for his own lunch break. 

 

Honestly, you can see why Fuka was intimidated. Even the dude’s face when he smiles looks kind of mischievous and like he’s about to cause a mess of trouble. Which is why his politeness kind of threw you off. 

 

“That was… Tanaka-kun?” You search for the right name. He’s been sitting diagonally behind you for a couple months now, but you’ve never spoken much to him. 

 

“R-Right… Thanks for saving me earlier again, [Name]-chan. He… kinda scares me.” 

 

“I can tell.” You comment as you both make your way out to the yard to your usual spot to eat lunch. “You were shaking so much I swear I could hear your bones rattling!” You laugh, earning a puffy-cheeked pout from your friend. 

 

You only tease her for a little while longer before you’re both digging into your lunches and talking about school, homework, and the upcoming field trip to the temple. It’ll be a nice break to hang out with friends and be out of school for a little while. It’ll only be a day trip to one just outside of the city, but it’s still better than being cooped up inside all day, you both agree. 



*



“Let’s go buy some charms!” Fuka suggests once you’re done taking photos of the shrines and doing other on-site assignments.

 

“Yeah, let’s!” you and the other girls agree and head there together in a bundle. Another great thing about school field trips is inter-class mingling. You get to hang out with your friends from other classes that you otherwise don’t usually see during the day. 

 

Everyone is looking through the extensive omamori booth, some debating between two, some picking out one immediately, and some just wandering about without anything in mind, like you. Nothing is catching your eye, and everyone else is almost done picking and purchasing their omamori charms already. 

 

None of them particularly interest you, but you also don’t want to be the only one to leave without a souvenir. “[Name]-chan, did you pick one?” 

 

“Uh, give me another minute?” you ask sheepishly, feeling kind of pressured now. Maybe you’ll just cop out with a general ‘good luck’ charm. Can’t go wrong with that. 

 

Just then though, near the very tail end of the booth, there’s a splash of black that peeks out from the other dark blue and deep purple omamori charms surrounding it. You read the kanji intricately sewn into the fabric, but you don’t really recognize the phrase. Through loose guessing, you get the idea of ‘connection’ from it. 

 

Well, you don’t have anyone or anything you particularly want to connect with, but the design of the charm is one of a kind. The black is not at all foreboding with the intricate gold and white seamlessly sewn into it. It’s actually a bit more complex and decorative than the ones you’ve seen, and likely a bit more expensive. But still, it’s the only one that’s caught your attention so far, so why not?

 

Funny how another hand just happens to appear beside yours as you’re reaching for that charm, and stops at the exact same time as yours does when you realize you’re about to collide. You and the owner of the other hand meet eyes at the same time, spewing out apologies and insisting the other go ahead first. 

 

Oh, it’s Tanaka, actually. From your class. The guy you had lent a pencil to and scares the lights out of Fuka. “Were you uh… going for this one?” Tanaka picks up the black charm. 

 

“Well… I was looking at it, but…”

 

“Here then, take it.” he offers it to you.

 

“What? No, it’s okay. You can have it.” you insist immediately, “You want it, right? I just thought it looked interesting. I’m not particularly attached to it.” 

 

“Neither am I. I just thought it looked cool. But if you want it, then it’s yours. Here.” he counters, still holding it out to you. 

 

You hesitate, studying his face that’s void of any intimidation today. In fact, he looks like he’s a bit nervous. He’s not meeting your eye, and you would almost guess he was getting a bit shy with his pulled-in shoulders. “Are you sure?” 

 

“Yeah.” he thrusts the charm at you once more, willing you to take it. 

 

“Then…” you reach forward slowly and accept the charm, accidentally brushing his fingers with your own. You notice how he stiffens and ticks his face away from yours just slightly. Ah, he must be the type that’s soft to girls, despite his rough appearance. “Thanks.” 

 

“Sure…” 

 

“Ah!” A voice scares you both a step back. After turning your heads, you notice it’s a maiden from the booth, “It’s uncommon to see two people go for that same charm at once. Not many even notice it!” 

 

“Is that so…?” you respond, wondering what else you can say. 

 

“You know all the omamori here are handmade by our shrine maidens. I just so happened to be finishing a second one of those. If you’d like to wait another few minutes, I’ll have it ready to be sold.” she holds up another black charm with very similar-looking gold and white patterns sewn into it. She seems to be finishing attaching the thread. 

 

“Really? Then can I have that one when you’re done with it?” 

 

“Why, of course. Just give me a moment, and I’ll be right with you.” she goes on to finish attaching the string and adding the shrine stamp. 

 

“Lucky!” Tanaka turns to smile at you rather brightly. It totally melts away that scary look he usually dons in school. He also seems to have lost his earlier stiffness. Maybe he really actually wanted that charm after all.

 

“Yeah! What a coincidence.” you agree, matching his smile. 

 

Maybe you spoke too soon when you thought he lost his initial nervousness. He stiffens once again once he you give him the smile. Fortunately, the shrine maiden hands him the charm before it can get awkward, so you both pay for your individual charms and part ways back to your own friends. “Which one did you finally decide on?” they ask you.

 

You show off your new purchase, which definitely sticks out among their knowledge and love and success charms in both color and message, but you find yourself actually really liking it. You and your friends all take photos of all the charms you picked and tuck them away into your bags before exploring the rest of the temple for the remainder of the field trip. There’s no time to lose on this break from the regular school day. 




*



About a week after the field trip, it’s back to the grind of the regular school day and more upcoming exams. The only things keeping you from going crazy under the pressure of all the school work are your after school outings with Fuka. You two often frequent a cafe or burger place together, or even go window-shopping for a little while before heading home. 

 

Stress and exhaustion are accumulating on your body, and you can see its effect on Fuka too. Which is why you’re glad she’s your best friend. She’s always down for a pick-me-up. These days, she’s been especially eager to try new cafes and test everything on their menu over a span of visits that eventually lead to your regular patronage and employee recognition. 

 

It’s another Sunday night when you’re struggling through your math equations that you think back to the shrine visit and wonder if maybe you should’ve gotten a knowledge charm after all. Because it might honestly take some divine intervention for you to rank well in these exams. They’re only midterms, but these are a benchmark for how well you’ll be able to do at the end of the year too, right? 

 

Stretching your arms above you as you yawn, you lay your head down on your desk for a quick break. Your eyes need a break from square roots and other fractions for a minute, so you’ll close your eyes for a bit and get back to it in another few minutes. There’s school again tomorrow, and the weekends feel shorter and shorter these days now that your time’s taken up by studying, so you need to savor any rest time you can get. 

 

Sitting beside your pencil on your desk is the black ‘Connection’ charm — as you have dubbed it to be. You’ve been using it as a bookmark for your homework to bring it around with you. Absentmindedly, you pick it up and just trace your fingers over the lines of the golden and white patterns and kanji. Each time you look at it, you find yourself liking it more. So no, you can’t say you regret getting this one instead of some successful studies charm.

 

It’s funny though, because a couple of your classmates asked you if you were dating Tanaka once after noticing you had the same charm. Is that a thing now? Getting matching omamori charms as if they’re couple keychains or something? You were quick to correct them, but reflecting on it, you were glad that Tanaka was able to get the same charm that you did if he liked it as much as you like it now. 

 

Your thoughts veer off like that for another minute or so until your eyelids fall closed with the charm still tucked in your hand on the desk. Okay, maybe just a short nap. You can finish your practice problems refreshed after ten minutes. 



*



Daylight has broken through the windows. So much for a short nap. Your alarm is ringing irritably to signal the start of your Monday. Groaning, you slap your hand around for the snooze button, but you don’t feel it in its usual spot on your bedside dresser. In fact… you don’t feel the hardwood of your dresser at all. 

 

Come to think of it, that’s not even your usual alarm. You have a pop song set to ring on your phone to wake you up so that you’re not as irritable as you could be when woken up by the blaring siren beeping like this one. Tearing your eyes open, you sit up in your futon and search around for the clock, successfully finding it sitting on the desk by your head. 

 

Your body freezes, alarms going off in your brain to back the blaring of the clock on the desk as you take in your surroundings and find yourself not recognizing a thing. Each new detail you notice further spikes the panic of the previous one. 

 

First of all, there’s the detail with the alarms and how this is actually an alarm clock rather than your phone. Second of all, you sleep in a bed, not a futon on the floor. Not to mention you don’t even recall making it to your own bed last night. Your last memory was falling asleep at your desk. The architecture of the room is all wrong, with shelves and desks placed in unfamiliar corners and filled with manga that you don’t ever remember reading. And it’s kind of a mess. 

 

And if you had to make a guess, this is likely a boy’s room, what with posters of idols and medals hanging off the walls. The smell too, it reeks of… well it’s not unpleasant, but it’s definitely testosterone. 

 

You can hear your pulse thundering in your ears and it’s far surpassed the sound of the alarm clock by now. What kind of conclusion are you even supposed to come to? Did you get magically transported somewhere? Did you get kidnapped?? What the fuck is going on???

 

In a flurry, you’re on your feet and rushing to slam on the alarm, only to realize that it reads 6am on the clock. What the fuck?? Who the hell gets up at 6am?? School starts in over two hours. But then again, you probably have other things to be worrying about other than being late for school. Like finding out if you’ve actually been fucking kidnapped or not. 

 

The next thing you notice is your skin. It’s… really smooth? And a shade different from your own. And… muscular…? 

 

Oh no.

 

You look down and see the unfamiliar clothes you’re wearing, which is just some colorful shorts (boxers?) and a tank top. Not too different from what you usually wear to sleep, but you don’t recognize these clothes at all! 

 

Oh no, oh fucking no. 

 

This can’t be, you begin monologuing to yourself about all the anime and manga and movies you’ve watched and wonder if this can really be happening. Peeking out of the room to check if the coast is clear in this unfamiliar house, you tiptoe into the hallway in search of the bathroom. There was no mirror inside the bedroom, so you’ve got to hunt it down elsewhere.

 

Honestly, you could just stretch the waistband of your shorts forward and check yourself if what you’re fearing has really come to be, but you’re too scared. Will you actually even be able to bring yourself to look in the mirror once you find it? 

 

The opportunity comes once you spot the tiled floor and the sink in the room down the hall. The mirror is just above the sink, only steps away, but… You can’t move forward. 

 

No, you have to. There’s no choice. Minutes are ticking and you don’t know if you’re in a dream or part of some sick lab experiment or some strange divine intervention, but you have to find out. So with a deep breath, you approach the mirror. Slowly… Slowly… 

 

And once you see a face moving in the mirror, matching every muscle contraction of yours, you can feel the panic well up. More and more, until you literally just scream. It wasn’t the sound you were expecting to let out, it’s much huskier and tenorish than your own natural voice, which makes you scream again. 

 

“Oh my god!” you shake, clutching onto the sides of the sink to hold yourself up, yet again recognizing the voice that comes out, but not as your own. 

 

You recognize the facial features in the mirror too. The sharp eyes, the bright teeth, the aggressive brow, and the unmistakable shaved head. You dart your eyes everywhere to watch the crazed panic in them before looking down at your hands, your arms, your legs, your feet, your clothes… none of which are yours… “What the heck!!!!” you scream.

 

“What is going on?!” a female screams, bursting into the bathroom. 

 

“Ahh!!!” you scream back. 

 

She’s got the same eyes and similar facial features to the ones you saw in the mirror, but has a bob-cut of blonde hair, and a bouncy chest. Something that you should also have, but you fucking don’t right now

 

“Oi, the heck is up with you, screaming at the crack of dawn? Don’t you have volleyball practice or something?” she groans, rubbing at her bed hair and yawning. 

 

You can barely get yourself to form the words mentally before you’re just spilling them out, “I’m a man.”  

 

She gives you a look that says it is far too early for this. “You… sure are…!”

 

“Oh my god, this is not happening. Am I in some kind of shoujo manga? Is this a dream? Maybe I’m psychotic and this is a hallucination.” you start muttering to yourself with a hand over your eyes, needing a moment to just… freak out. 

 

“Oi, what are you going on about… You okay, Ryu?” the female asks. 

 

“No…” you answer honestly. Turning to the mirror again, you slide your hands down your face, pull at your cheeks, rub at your shaved head, touch your… adam’s apple. 

 

No, not yours. This face, this body, this house, this sister(?), none of these are yours.

 

They’re Tanaka Ryunosuke’s. 



*



You’ve been waiting at the school gate for over half an hour, concentrating on every girl’s face and trying to recognize your own. It’s weird, because you’ve never seen yourself from an outsider’s perspective, so you don’t even know if you would recognize yourself or not. Everyone who’s walking past you to get into the school veers away from you though, looking kind of scared. It’s not like you’re giving off an aura or anything, you’re just trying to concentrate.

 

This morning had been a bust all around. After searching around for Tanaka’s phone, you couldn’t even open it because it was locked by passcode. And when you called your own cell phone number with the home phone, there was no answer. Not exactly a surprise because you tend to turn off your phone when you’re studying, so that’s on you. 

 

And then there was the matter of getting ready for school. You were extremely careful not to be too invasive, but at the same time, you couldn’t help your own curiosity. You are a growing adolescent who is curious about boys!! Besides, you’re sure that if a boy woke up in a girl’s body, they’d take a peek too… 

 

Oh god, if Tanaka is really in your body, and he took a peek at you… You suddenly feel a tinder of rage burning inside you, and surprisingly, the people walking around you into the school gates react by circling even farther around you to get inside. 

 

Tanaka had gotten a call from someone earlier this morning, but you didn’t pick up because what would you even say? How could you even answer them? You’re not Tanaka and you don’t know what the shit he would say, or how he even talks to everyone around him! You’ve barely had a conversation with him outside of that charm purchase at the temple! 

 

As you’re internally monologuing again, someone stops by you with a gentle, “Hey.” 

 

Looking up, you feel like you’ve been knocked off your feet by the look of yourself. Seeing your own body and face standing right before you is pretty goddamn weird. And is that really what you sound like?? 

 

“Hey.” you return, in your own gruff, new voice. “You wanna… go somewhere to talk?” 

 

“Yeah.” Your body is slightly shorter than Tanaka’s, but you can clearly see how your face looks when you turn away with a slight blush. What the hell is he blushing about?? This is a state of emergency!!!

 

Once you’re both hidden behind the back of the main school building where there are no windows and it’s far enough away from the clubrooms that no one will catch your conversation, you take a deep breath and say, “Tanaka-kun?” 

 

“Yes!” Tanaka (in your body) straightens with his (your) arms at his sides. 

 

“Just what in the world is going on?” you ask, trying to sound calm, but judging by the frightened look on your face and stiffness of your shoulders (that Tanaka is wielding), your aura must be intimidating him a bit, like all the other kids this morning. 

 

“Yes! I don’t know!” Oh my god, why is your voice so squeamish. 

 

“So you just woke up like this too?” you interrogate, as if it’s his fault. 

 

“Yes! I woke up in this body and struggled to find my way around and I may or may not have caused some suspicion in your parents! I am incredibly sorry!” he bows ninety degrees before you. 

 

“Hey, stop! Stop!” you lift him by the (your) shoulders. They’re so meek and flimsy compared to the ones you have right now. “Don’t bow to someone like that with my body! Have some pride!” 

 

“Yes! I apologize!” he slaps his arms at his sides again. 

 

Pinching the bridge of your (his) nose with a groan, you sigh, wondering how it all came to this. “Uhm…” your voice calls for your attention, and you offer it as requested, “[S-Surname]-san, right?” 

 

“Yeah.” 

 

“So you’re really [Surname]-san.” he sighs, in awe. 

 

“Who else would I be, Tanaka?” you snap, accidentally dropping the formality. “It doesn’t look like anyone else woke up with a new body this morning!” 

 

“S-Sorry!” he squeaks in your voice, which you’re starting to get annoyed with. 

 

“Please stop making rodent sounds, it’s really unpleasant to have to hear myself sound like that.” you sigh. Come to think of it — you give your body a onceover — you look like a mess! “And how did you even dress yourself today? I look like I rolled out of a bush!” 

 

“I’m sorry, I did my best…” he admits. 

 

“You could’ve at least combed my hair,” you groan, running your (his) fingers through your own locks — which are rather silky, looks like those new products Fuka recommended to you are well worth the price. You can feel Tanaka stiffen beneath your touch, which you would understand in normal circumstances, but this is your body. You have a right to take care of it. 

 

“And what is with this tie job, it shouldn’t be that hard…” you pull at the bowtie tied haphazardly around your blouse, and make to retie it neatly when you notice… 

 

Tanaka yelps in your voice again, when you grab him by the shirt collar and lift your own body with relative ease (wow, he’s got some arm strength on him), “Tanaka-kun,” you start with a deadly lull to your male voice. 

 

“Y-Yes!” he squeaks, panic swallowing his eyes as you bring your faces close.

 

“Explain to me why you are not wearing a bra.” 

 

“I’m sorry!” he squirms, clamping his eyes shut, “I-I tried to, but it w-was difficult to figure out how to put it on properly! Please forgive me!! I am unworthy to carry your lovely body and I will atone severely for touching your chest!” 

 

“So you did touch my chest.” you deadpan.

 

Another squeak. 

 

You groan for what feels like the hundredth time today, and it’s not even nine yet. “Well, you’re just a boy. Guess you wouldn’t know how to put one on in the first place.” you release him from your grasp. You’re surprised by how high you had managed to lift your own body, because Tanaka goes down with a bit of a drop. 

 

After taking a moment to calm down, Tanaka looks up at you and says, “I… I brought it with me, though! I figured I could just… ask you or another girl or someone to help me put it on… Forgive me for being so stupid that I can’t even figure out how to put a bra on.” he bows just his head this time. 

 

“Well, at least you have some sense about you.” you blink dismissively, “Alright, take it out.”

 

“Eh?” Tanaka blinks back. It’s kind of funny watching your face make so many different expressions like that. So this is what you look like to other people. “Right now?” 

 

“Yes, right now. There’s no one around yet, so just take it out and I’ll show you how to put it on. You can do it yourself once you’re in a bathroom stall or a locker room or something.” you hold your hand out expectantly. 

 

“O-Okay.” he replies awkwardly, unzipping his (your) school bag and taking out the lacy pink bra. 

 

Now it’s your turn to blush, “W-Why did you choose this one?!” 

 

“E-Eh?” he freaks out in perfect tune with you, lifting his hands in surrender. “W-Well, I didn’t know which ones to wear. I just picked whatever matched with the underwear I woke up in this morning! I thought that girls like to match their underwear.” 

 

“I have other ones that aren’t this fancy, you know?? If you wear something like this with the summer uniform, you’ll be able to see through it!!” 

 

“Eh???” Tanaka widens your eyes in full-on panic at learning this. 

 

You give up with another groan, needing to lower the tension between the both of you. “Forget it, just give it to me.” Making sure one last time that no one is around to see you handle a female’s underwear in a boy’s body, you give Tanaka a quick lesson on how to put on a bra. 

 

“You hook it like this, okay? And unhook it like this.” you make sure he watches and learns the mechanics of the bra before showing him how to put it on. It’s weird wrapping it around your broad, but flat chest on top of a school shirt, but it’s what’s got to be done. 

 

“The fastest way is to just put it on and hook it around the back. But if you can’t do it, then it’s just as effective to hook it on backwards and twist the bra around to face forward before pulling it up and securing it this way too.” you wrap the bra around your stomach to hook it from the front before twisting the band to bring the cups forward to match your explanation. “Got it?” 

 

“Oh! How innovative!” He seems genuinely fascinated by this lesson, and you guess you can’t blame him. He’s probably learning a lot more about girls now than he ever could through some other means. 

 

“Yeah, just make sure you put it on before classes start.” you remind him, handing the bra over to let him stuff back into his bag. “And another thing, pull up your skirt! You’re making me look like a grandma!” 

 

“Eh??” 

 

You’re starting to think that’s Tanaka’s favorite word. After convincing him to pull the skirt up a couple inches when he changes later, you remind him to smooth the back down before sitting. You also exchange phones so that you guys can at least communicate properly with your own words. 

 

“In any case, let’s just go to class for now since we’re both here anyway.” you suggest, “Good thing we’re at least in the same class. Neither of us will answer questions unless called on. Just try not to fall asleep, alright?”

 

“Alright.” he agrees.

 

“And let’s meet again during lunch to talk more about this and figure something out. I’d hate to leave Fuka-chan on her own for today, but we’ve gotta do it.” 

 

“L-Lunch…” he stutters. When you give him another questioning look, he just straightens again and agrees readily. “Not a problem!” 

 

“Okay, good. See you then.” 



*



Tanaka texts someone from his volleyball team to send the message that he’ll be missing volleyball practice today, and you also have him tell Fuka that he’ll have to take off somewhere else today for an errand so she can head home on her own. You were listening intently from Tanaka’s desk at his speech patterns to make sure it sounded natural, and he did a relatively good job. 

 

And you think you did pretty decent at sounding like a typical high school boy. You greeted everyone who greeted you, and slouched slightly and even spread your legs a bit to look more guyish. Wearing pants to school is pretty damn great. Maybe you should start wearing spandex or something underneath your skirt when you get your body back. 

 

If you can get it back, that is. You and Tanaka decided to take the bus down to the temple you had visited during the field trip after making some connections with the omamori you both bought. That seemed to be the only connection between you two, and the words on the charm were enough to raise suspicion too. 

 

On the trip there, though, Tanaka still seems to be stiff around you, so when you’re over halfway done with the bus ride there, you’re tired enough of watching your body fidget to ask, “Why are you so nervous? I know this is weird, but it’s just me. And this is your body, shouldn’t you be used to seeing it?” 

 

“Yeah, but… not like this. I kind of understand why some girls run away from me now…” he says, almost sounding dejected in your softer voice. “I guess my face can actually be pretty scary-looking.”

 

“You mean you didn’t know before?” That gets a chortle out of you. Which is nice, you feel like you haven’t laughed in weeks. 

 

“Well, all this time, I’ve been cultivating myself as a pretty cool man, ya know?” he sits up straighter, and you want to tell him to stop talking so abrasively in your voice, but it’s just the two of you. And honestly, it’s kind of funny, although cringey.

 

“Oh, really. Tell me more.” you drone sarcastically, with a lazy smile and leaning your cheek in your hand against the back of the seat. 

 

“Oh man! You make me look so cool right now in that pose! I should take note of this.” Tanaka tries to mirror your casual sitting position, and you admit, this definitely isn’t something that suits your body. It’s still funny to watch, somehow. Tanaka’s turning out to be an amusing guy. 

 

When you both alight and find your way back to the temple, you make a beeline for the omamori booth. But neither of you see the shrine maiden who had sold you both the charms last time. “Excuse me,” you ask one of the maidens working, “We bought these charms from this shrine about a week ago, but we have a question about them.” 

 

“Yes, what is your question?” 

 

“Uhm… what does it… do?” you struggle to find the best way to ask.

 

“Hmm, this one…” the maiden looks at it with a thoughtful pucker in her lips, “It’s not very common, but it’s a phrase that incites self-discovery. This one in particular would offer assistance with improving bonds with others, bringing luck to new connections in order to learn more about the world and oneself.” 

 

“Uh huh…” You blink back at Tanaka once before turning back to the shrine maiden, “And would this happen to have any… special effects to it? Like, immediate special effects?” You lean in, your eyes probably looking a little crazy. 

 

“Well, I wouldn’t know, personally. Each omamori is special simply because they’re all made differently. Even if the general wish or intention is the same, or even if it was made by the same person, no one is ever in the exact same state of mind when making one charm and another.” She explains patiently, albeit stiffly under your scrutinous gaze. 

 

“Okay, then can whoever made this come out and tell us about it? We have a dire problem with it right now, and we need answers.” You demand. 

 

“What kind of dire problem?” 

 

“We… we…” You start, but don’t know if you can bring yourself to actually explain your dilemma without sounding like you should be sent to a mental hospital. 

 

“We just haven’t been ourselves,” Tanaka interjects. Sure, that’s one way to put it. “There’s a clear difference in our lives right now, and we’re now connected in a way that can’t be explained by anything other than this… spiritual event that’s happened. And the only thing we’ve had in common up until this point is that we both bought the same charm from this temple. So won’t you please help us?” 

 

The shrine maiden looks slightly more at ease with Tanaka’s calmer approach. Not to mention he looks like a sweet girl compared to you, in your hulking body with your naturally sharp and intimidating features. After talking through the details of your field trip and figuring out who had sold you the omamori, the maiden says, “I’m afraid she only works during some weekends. That day, I think she filled in for someone else since we were expecting so many visitors, but she isn’t usually here during the week.” 

 

And with that, hope was lost. At least until the weekend. You had practically begged for her to ask the girl who sold you the charms to come in or to at least get her contact information, but the maiden said that wasn’t allowed. Though you suppose you couldn’t blame her, since you were starting to sound creepily adamant about it. So you and Tanaka had no other choice but to accept your fate and wait in each other’s bodies until Saturday to return.

 

Leaving the shrine with dejected frustration and newfound impatience, you and Tanaka look at each other for a bit, wondering how you should go about the rest of this week. “Ugh, this sucks… And exams are coming up. If we can’t get switched back by then… Are we going to have to take each other’s tests?”

 

“Well, worse comes to worst, we could just write our own names on the papers?” Tanaka suggests.

 

“Yeah, I suppose you’re right.” There’s a thoughtful silence as you both walk back to the bus stop. “You think we could force it?” 

 

“Force what? The switch?” 

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Like how?” he asks.

 

“You know in all the mangas and stuff, when people switch bodies, there’s some sort of catalytic event that makes them switch back? Like, if we kiss or something. Or if we fall down some stairs together and crash into each other, it’ll knock our souls back into each other’s bodies!” you suggest.

 

Tanaka stares at you for a moment, with incredulous wide eyes. “Hearing it come from my own mouth… suddenly makes it sound kind of questionable…” 

 

“Did you just… call yourself dumb? Or… are you calling me dumb?” you try to wrap your head around that one. If Tanaka Ryunosuke is judging you, then you should probably rethink what you just said. 

 

“Anyway, isn’t there some other way? Like… usually, the switched souls have to learn something about themselves or each other or something. And that maiko-san said that this charm is about ‘self-discovery’ or something. So… I don’t know, maybe we should find out more about… each other? In order to discover more about ourselves? Or something?”

 

You’re pulling shit out of your ass now, but Tanaka isn’t really offering anything else useful, so you’re both kind of stuck here wondering how to go on about the week until you can meet the actual shrine maiden who sold you these goddamn omamori. 

 

The two of you discuss possible options back and forth until you reach a park bench, but all of them sound half-assed in one way or another. When you both finally sit down, mentally exhausted at the situation, you slouch down into the park bench and lean your head against the back of it before finally bringing up the suggestion that you both have been avoiding. 

 

“How about if we kiss?”

 

You half expected Tanaka to react with a flustered, bumbling hesitation, but he just blinks for a bit before nodding a bit, “I guess that’s an option.” 

 

“Really?” You sit up, “I thought you’d get shy, but I didn’t expect you to take advantage of the situation.” 

 

“W-What?! I’m not trying to do that at all!” He defends, actually blushing this time. Wow, that shade of red is really bright on your face. It’s kind of weird, but kind of cute in a way. 

 

“I’m just kidding. We might as well try everything we can.” You laugh before sliding in closer to him on the bench, an arm along the back of it behind Tanaka. “So, shall we?” 

 

For some reason, that makes Tanaka flush deeper. It’s kind of amusing to see your face make such a nervous expression in such a deep shade of red. Even more amusing to you that you’re the one leading the seduction. Maybe this male body comes with a boost of confidence too. 

 

“Is this your first?” you whisper as you draw close enough to touch noses and fan your breath across Tanaka’s (your) face. 

 

“W-What are you on about?” he stutters, although you can tell he’s trying his absolute hardest not to pull away. “O-Of course it… is.” He falls flat when he opts for the truth. It’s cute. 

 

“I see.” You hum before going in to press softly against Tanaka with his lips, trying to wrap your mind around the fact that you’re kissing yourself and that wow, your lips are actually pretty soft. And nice to kiss. The more you know. 

 

Pulling away after a good couple of seconds, you open your eyes to see that you are still staring at your own body, rather than sitting in it yourself. “Damn… Didn’t work.” you sigh, falling back against the bench again. 

 

“G-Guess not.” Tanaka fiddles with his fingers in his lap, head down and not at all looking your way. 

 

“Well, it was worth a try.” You run a hand up into your hair, only to remember that you don’t have hair, but a shaved head to run your palm against. What a strange but addicting sensation. You continue to rub your palm around in small circles on the surface of your (Tanaka’s) head for a little while before you feel his eyes on you. 

 

Turning to confirm that he is indeed looking at you again with a shy expression, your lips break out into a cocky smile, “What’s with that face? Did you like it?” 

 

“That’s—! I wasn’t— It—!!” He keeps stumbling around for some semblance of an answer, so you just chuckle and put him out of his misery. You don’t know where you’re conjuring this playboy aura from anyway, because it’s clearly not from Tanaka himself, despite you currently living in his body. 

 

“I’m kidding. Again.” You reassure, “But let’s get down to it. I think we’re stuck like this for the time being… And obviously we can’t both just skip out on school for a week, so you’re going to have to tell me how to be you for a few days. And I’ll do the same.” 

 

“O-Oh…” You’re getting used to this timid and nervous Tanaka, but you still really can’t get over it. Is this really the guy who scares off first-years in the hallway? “I suppose that’s the best option, huh.” 

 

“Right, and I’d really rather not be questioned too much and have to make up a bunch of lies to keep up with. So we need to be as specific with each other as possible, okay?” 

 

“Okay.” He agrees more readily this time, sitting up straighter.

 

“So first order of business… Do not ever leave the house without a bra on underneath that school uniform.”




*



Tanaka glances back at you (in his body) when school is over for the day. You meet his eyes and give the faintest of nods as you begin packing your (his) stuff in your bag. Today went well for the most part. He had gotten dressed without too many qualms, had a relatively normal conversation with your parents during breakfast, attended class without falling asleep, sat at your desk with his legs together, ate lunch with your best friend, and now he’s going to go home with said best friend. 

 

“Ready to go, [Name]-chan?” Fuka asks with her bag in tow with a comfortable smile on her face. Tanaka wants to cry and melt at the sight. Fuka has never smiled at him before when he was in his own body because she’s always just run away or avoided eye contact with him altogether.  This is truly a beautiful sight to behold. 

 

“Y-Yup!” he tries imitating your natural cheer, grabbing his bag and pushing in his chair. “Let’s go.” 

 

He lets Fuka do most of the talking on the way out of school, and it turns out she’s actually quite talkative. He never would’ve guessed, seeing how quiet and nervous she turns when he’s tried to talk to her before. Best friends are truly a great thing~ 

 

Once they leave the school grounds, however, Fuka asks questions that require more than just a simple response, “Say, you wanna stop by Amour Laiteux today? They’ve got a brand new parfait item on the menu!”

 

“Ah… actually, I was thinking of heading home a little earlier today to get some more studying done. Exams are already next week, you know?” Tanaka executes the line he’s been rehearsing in his head for the past hour. 

 

“Eh~ But you left early yesterday too!” she whines, “Let’s go! We can study at the cafe too! Promise I will!” she smiles and holds her hand up in a pledge. SO DAMN CUTE. 

 

“I don’t know…” he tries once more, starting to feel anxious. You did warn Tanaka that he would eventually have to hang out with Fuka during the week. It would be strange to reject her too often when she and you hang out practically every day after school. 

 

‘If there was a Sweets Hunting club, then we’d be the officers of it.’ you had said. 

 

Plus, you had agreed to attend his club activities for him, including morning practice (apparently, Daichi had quite a word with you today during the lunch break). So this was the least he could do. 

 

“Alright, alright. You got me.” he caves, finding it hard to resist Fuka’s charm anyway.

 

“Yay! Let’s get there quick so we can beat the crowd!” she nabs his hand and starts power walking with purpose if he’s ever seen it. 

 

However, he cannot admire the adorable excitement in her step as he is about to implode from the heat rising to his face because A GIRL IS HOLDING HIS HAND. WHAT SHOULD HE DO? THIS IS SO SUDDEN AND—

 

“F-Fuka-chan?!” he stutters, barely able to get the words out. Her hand is so soft! And so small, but it’s a perfect fit in your hand, which is also pretty small. 

 

“Hurry, hurry!” she giggles, and it’s like he’s been shot with arrow after arrow in the heart.

 

Tanaka manages to keep it together for the most part until they reach the cafe, where they’re greeted familiarly by the worker inside. She’s also really cute, and the way she greets Fuka and him with such a bright, unrestrained smile makes Tanaka feel like he’s about to start floating. Even more so once they’re seated, because this fancy cafe is filled mainly with other young girls around their age. 

 

“Viva body switch.” he mutters aloud.

 

“What was that, [Name]-chan?”

 

“N-Nothing.” Tanaka laughs nervously, running a hand down his head, which actually has a full head of nice, silky hair. It’s pretty heavy and kind of hot, which took some getting used to when he woke up in this body, but there’s no denying that he finds a guilty pleasure in exploring all these lovely, feminine parts of your body. 

 

“Let’s order then!” Fuka recaptures his attention to bring to the menu, “I’m definitely getting the new parfait item. What are you thinking of getting?” 

 

“Uhm…” Tanaka skims the menu only to find a bunch of different French names scattering the placard. There are small descriptions of the dessert in Japanese underneath the name, but they’re described with more foreign words…  English was hard enough, but French?? “Maybe this?” he points at something random. 

 

“Mille-feuille? Ooh, a nice choice! I think I tried that one last time. I love the flakiness of it. You know the name means ‘a thousand leaves’ because of all the crispy layers in the puff pastry. And I think it’s kind of special here because they glaze the top AND put some nutty powder on top. It really makes the texture....” 

 

Tanaka can only let Fuka go on until she’s satisfied, and the conversation seems to extend longer when the employee comes to to take their orders but commends Fuka for her knowledge of French dessert. And they get really into it about more fancy dessert things until Tanaka is unsure if they’re still speaking in Japanese. Although admittedly, as overwhelmed as he is by all this dessert knowledge, it’s incredibly endearing to see Fuka so excited about something. He kind of ends up just staring lovingly at her. 

 

“[Name]-chan? Hey, [Name]-chan.” she waves her hand in front of you.

 

“Huh? Oh, r-right!” Right, he’s you. And staring away at your best friend under this ruse is probably not something you would appreciate, but when is he ever going to get a chance like this again? “The m-meel f-fway? Please?” 

 

“One mille-feuille,” the waiter follows up with a kind smile as she scribbles down the order, “One special House Parfait, and the usual earl grey imperial tea for you ladies?” 

 

“Yes, please!” Fuka claps her hands together. After thanking the waiter, she turns back to Tanaka with that bright smile that he may never get tired of, “I can’t believe we can get a taste of Mariage Frères for such a good price! Just another great thing about this cafe!” 

 

Mari… Frer…. What? 

 

“Right?” Tanaka chuckles. Maybe he’ll be able to get through today unscathed if he can just keep Fuka talking for most of the time, “Fuka-chan, what’s your top five desserts then?” 

 

Fuka breaks the air with a loud gasp, “[Name]-chan, you can’t just spring such a loaded question on me all of a sudden! Oh my… where could I even begin to choose…” 

 

Well, that keeps her busy until the desserts come out, and Tanaka is able to follow up each answer with a ‘why?’ question for a while. The conversation goes on like that until they both get their treats, and HOLY MOLY, DID CAKE ALWAYS TASTE THIS GOOD?? 

 

Tanaka has never seen a dessert like this before, but Fuka had a point when she said something about the texture and the… glaze or whatever. This cake is phenomenal. “Oh my god!” he had freaked out at the first bite, “This is crazy good.”

 

“Right? Right??” Fuka had caught onto the excitement and the rest just rolled from there, melting at the taste of her own dessert. “And this parfait is perfect. There are so many wonderful combinations of flavors to taste with everything in here! You have to try some!!” she thrusts a spoon full of ice cream, berries, cookie crumbs, and whipped cream over in his direction.

 

A spoon… that was just in her own mouth seconds earlier. Tanaka had clearly witnessed it. And she’s offering a taste of that sweet indirect kiss that he’s only ever dreamed of… “A-Are you sure?” he trembles, starting to feel hot. Oh man, oh man. He can’t show that he’s nervous, but this is his first time he’s going to share a dessert with a girl!!! 

 

“Don’t be silly, take a bite. Ahh~”

 

This is…!!! He’s living every man’s dream!!! She even makes the adorable ‘say ahh~’ sound that men can only dream of!! Does he dare to indulge in these pleasures of female companionship?? Well, again, this isn’t his body, so he’ll just accept her kindness on your behalf! He tries not to snort steam out of his nostrils as he opens his mouth for the bite of parfait. 

 

“There we go!” Fuka giggles, “How is it?” 

 

“Like I’ve kissed an angel…” Tanaka barely manages to squeak in his dizzy spell of pure joy. Honestly, Fuka could’ve fed him horse manure and he still would’ve said the same thing. 

 

Viva body-switching , he wants to cry. 

 

Tanaka and Fuka stay in the cafe for about two hours, although they don’t actually end up studying. So Fuka suggests a change in location and wastes no time in holding his hand when they leave, once again leaving Tanaka in a melting whirlwind of moe and happiness. 

 

He barely even notices that they aren’t looking for a new study spot, but rather just walking down the streets and window-shopping in several clothing, stationary, and book stores. Tanaka enjoys every minute of it, just pretending he has a girlfriend in his head while Fuka is innocently just having another day with her best friend. 

 

But as it gets dark, and Fuka still pushes to visit another stop beforehand, Tanaka begins to notice the pattern. She’s cheerful and promises that it’ll be the last stop before going home each time, but still continues to procrastinate further. And occasionally, he notices a stiffness about her posture, or how she tends to dart her eyes around the area quite often. 

 

“Fuka-chan, are you okay?” he asks when they’re still walking down the street. 

 

“Mhm! Why do you ask?” she answers almost too quickly. 

 

“It feels like you don’t want to go home.” he jokes lightheartedly, but there’s an awkwardness in the laugh that Fuka follows with. 

 

“Oh yeah, it’s a lot later than usual, huh? I guess I just really missed you yesterday. I wanted to make up for the lost time.” 

 

“Aww, Fuka-chan. Don’t worry, I’ll always be here to eat cake with you.” Tanaka smiles with genuine support, not just because he’d like to eat cake with her again, but he believes that’s something that you would genuinely say. She is your best friend after all. 

 

“Thanks, [Name]-chan. I guess we should probably head home now, huh…” she sighs, looking incredibly deflated, which really contrasts with how bright and cheerful she’s been all afternoon. 

 

Tanaka hums in thought. There’s a strange feeling tickling at the back of his neck, telling him that something’s not right. But he wouldn’t even know how to bring it up, so he just offers, “You want me to walk home you with today, Fuka-chan?” 

 

“Eh? Why would you want to?” her eyes widen in surprise, but also something that looks like concealed hopefulness. 

 

“What’s wrong with wanting to hang out with my best friend for a little longer?” he makes a bold move, bumping Fuka’s shoulder with his own, hoping it’s a believable gesture of affection you would make. 

 

“Okay!” she agrees, looking rather cheerful again. 

 

“Great. Let’s go.” he’s the one who offers his hand this time, and Fuka happily takes it as they start walking together. Once again, Tanaka is reminded of the blessing his life has taken shape of as he walks hand in hand with a cute girl under the late afternoon sunset. He can’t stop sighing in bliss. 

 

*

 

“Ryu! We missed ya these past few days!” A short guy from class 3 gives you a hard slap in the back when you enter the boys volleyball club room after school. For a tiny dude, he packs a hell of a punch. 

 

“Oof! Hey, Noya-san…” you greet him with the name that Tanaka had told you to address him with. “Sorry for missing out yesterday and this morning, guys. I got caught up in some personal stuff. Sorry if I’m off my game for the next few days too.”

 

“Well, missing a couple of practices isn’t going to revert all your progress, but is everything okay with you?” The third-year who you recall is named Sugawara (addressed as Suga-san) from a photo, asks with a kindness in his voice that matches his face. 

 

“It should be fine, Suga-san. It’s kind of a pain, but I’ll get through it.” you try to keep your speech casual and dude-like. 

 

“That’s the spirit, Ryu! You’ll get through anything with the right attitude!” There’s Noya again. He’s got pipes to match his punch. 

 

“Alright, enough dilly-dallying. Get changed and let’s get to practice.” Another third-year with a strong voice claps his hands and gets everyone moving again. If you recall correctly, you’ll have to refer to him as ‘Daichi-san.’ 

 

You know, you thought you’d be able to handle being around all these boys in their natural habitat considering you’ve been conditioning yourself in Tanaka’s body not to react so strongly to every male thing about a body. But once all the skin starts showing up on broad backs and chiseled arms and thick thighs, you let out a helpless squeal and turn to your own locker. 

 

“Tanaka? What was that?” Another second year asks. Narita?

 

“N-Nothing! It’s nothing.” you quickly start stripping off your shirt and pants too, trying to somehow calm the heat rising to your face by breathing deeply as you change. But while you look down, you stare down at your own chiseled, male body. There’s so much lean, broad muscle on every inch of your torso. Even your abdomen is showing developing signs of a six-pack. It’s like there’s barely an ounce of fat in this athlete’s body. You had never noticed these things before when you just saw Tanaka in class.

 

You seem to awe in your own body for a little too long, because the others are questioning you again, “Tanaka?” 

 

And in your daze of glorifying your current body, you just look up and stare at the other guys with an incredulous look of discovery, “Dude, CHECK ME OUT. I am pretty damn ripped.” you revere as you flex your (Tanaka’s) muscles in a signature bodybuilder pose. 

 

“For sure!! You’ve been going all out in at practice these days, Ryu!” Nishinoya joins in on the excitement. And suddenly, you feel a little more at ease around the group, laughing along with them about dumb, boy things. 

 

The nerves return once practice gets started though. Stretches are a breeze, and warm-ups are really not that hard in this athletic body. But once all the drills start happening… your amateurity comes out full throttle. 

 

You miss spikes, you only just manage to hit serves over the net, you can barely keep up with receives with your eyes, let alone your body, and your timing with the team is totally off because you don’t know any of the practice plays. “Wow, Tanaka… you weren’t kidding when you warned us about being off your game.” 

 

“My bad…” you rub at the back of your shaved head. It’s become a habit of yours now, the feeling of it is just so interesting. It kind of calms you. “Sorry if I’m slowing down practice, guys.” 

 

“It’s fine, you’ll get the hang of things again soon enough.” the third-years give you supportive messages and pats on the back, and even one of the bouncy first-years gives you plenty of encouragement. The other first-years are kind of weird, one of them always talking about adjusting plays that you don’t even know or understand, and another one just straight-up instigating you. You recall Tanaka telling you that tall, blonde one was a pest, and you can kind of see what he means with all the quiet sneers. 

 

“Hey, Tanaka.” the rebelliously styled coach calls you over.

 

“Yes, coach!” you try to sound energetic like you would imagine Tanaka to be. 

 

“I’m gonna have you practice with B Team for today, so you can get back into the rhythm of things. We’ll switch it back up once you feel able to play comfortably again.” 

 

“Yes…” you answer, although you don’t know who B Team is… You can only surmise that since he’s telling you to switch, that it won’t be with the group you’re currently playing with. 

 

Luckily, Sugawara waves you over to give you some direction. “Come on, Tanaka, let’s review some of our formations before we try them out. It’ll be a good refresher for all of us.” 

 

“Sure, why not.” The other second-years in this group agree and gather around for the explanation. 

 

You are only barely able to follow, but you risk asking a few questions anyway. It might be weird for Tanaka not to know some of these things, but it’s better than just fidgeting around and dragging the team down because you don’t have a clue what’s going on. Admittedly, they give you weird looks, but Sugawara patiently explains it all to you with a kind smile. And a few teasing quips. What an angel. 

 

And when you finally land your first successful spike of practice, you feel like you could cry. “Hey, there ya go. That’s our Tanaka!” Sugawara is the first to offer you a high five.

 

“Thank you, Suga-san…” you pout a little, trying to hold back the tears. Why are you feeling so overwhelmed with emotion right now? You have to hold yourself together! Someone like Tanaka wouldn’t cry at something like this!

 

“Quit sobbing, Tanaka. Let’s keep it up.” Another second-year, Ennoshita, comes up with a high-five and a calm expression. He makes it sound like this isn’t uncommon… 

 

“Yeah!” you agree whole-heartedly. 

 

The rest of practice is grueling. All you’ve done after school is eat snacks and desserts and sit around studying, and all of this intensive exercise is such a huge change. Even in Tanaka’s body that’s used to all of it, you’re mentally overwhelmed. 

 

There’s so goddamn much to volleyball. After the drills and the team practices, everyone stays later until dark to work on individual practice. And there are also team meetings in which the coach discusses with the team everything like  the progress that’s happening and strategies to use for upcoming games against all these teams that you’ve only heard the schools’ names of in passing. This team really is trying to go to nationals. 

 

By the time it’s cleanup, you’re exhausted. You don’t even bother changing out of your workout clothes afterwards, and just pull the club jacket on over your t-shirt. It’s gross, but you don’t have energy to spare right now. Not to mention, you’re freaking starving. You could probably eat a whole cake on your own right now. 

 

However, what you end up doing is going to the convenience store down the hill from school with the other second-years. Which the coach runs, apparently. No wonder you had recognized him earlier. You occasionally visited Sakanoshita after school before. The hunger-satiating snacks are out at this time of day though, so you settle for some snack bar until you get home. 

 

You’re greeted with a blessing in disguise, because Tanaka’s sister, Saeko, already has dinner ready for you to dig into once you get home. She seems to be out at work tonight, but the sight of a fresh meal ready for your angry stomach is a sight to behold. She had it ready last night too, and she seemed pretty surprised when you started doing the dishes. You tried to play it off, saying you were in a good mood, but does Tanaka not help his sister around the house?

 

Well, considering he puts all his effort into volleyball, as shown by the passion in your one day with his team, maybe it’s not that big of a surprise. You feel like you’re halfway to death right now, so after you finish eating and washing the dishes, you head right for the bath. 

 

Although you notice the laundry basket piling up, so you figure you could at least just toss them into the machine before taking a nice, long soak. The hot water is like honey against your tired muscles, even though they’re not even your muscles. After showering off all the grime and sweat from practice, you practically melt into the bathtub. 

 

But you only last in the hot water for about three minutes before you have to regretfully sit up. There’s too much heat that conducts in this male body. You have been so warm all day. Which must mean he’s in tip-top shape and in perfect health, but you can’t enjoy the long, relaxing soak in the bathtub that you want because you feel like your face is about to implode. 

 

Letting out a deep sigh, you rest your head against the back of the tub. Man, Tanaka puts way too much effort into his club activities. You can’t believe that you have to show up to morning practice tomorrow. No wonder that alarm got you up at 6am yesterday. You had snoozed through it this morning too, and just went to school at the regular time, but then you got approached by the volleyball club members during lunch. So it looks like you won’t be able to play hookey anymore. 

 

You close your eyes in thought again, wondering how it all came to this. You also wonder how long it’ll be before you and Tanaka are able to switch back to your own bodies, because this is absolutely overwhelming. Acting like somebody else, and actually managing to fool the majority of them into thinking you’re some guy whom you only just started getting to know. 

 

And you also think about how hard Tanaka seems to work in his club activities, because everyone kept giving you back-handed compliments today. They’d say things like “you usually spike that no problem” or “that was good, although it didn’t have the same bam kind of impact as usual” or “you missed it/finished the run last/are getting more tired easily, how unlike you.” 

 

Does that mean that Tanaka usually performs in tip-top shape?? You’re pretty sure that this is a lot more intensive than you’ve ever seen another sports team at any of your schools before. Although you suppose this team is taking nationals rather seriously compared to all your small-scale sports clubs. You’ve gained a newfound respect for both the sport, and the whole team. Everyone works pretty hard and doesn’t complain much, from what you’ve seen on your first day. 

As you continue to think about how much passion you saw in each of the members today in club practice, you eventually fall asleep in the aftermath of all your exhaustion. 



*



Today’s dessert is an earl grey tea cake with a rather decadent and light buttercream. Tanaka can feel your body singing as each forkful passes into your mouth. To think that he could be living this luxurious of a life if he had a cute girlfriend like Fuka. Just watching her enjoy that slice of coffee walnut cake with the brightest smile on her face fills his heart with so much joy. 

 

Although he feels bad about spending your money every time he opens your wallet to pay for the dessert. You had assured him it was okay to get at least one item each day because it would look weird if he didn’t. “And make sure to buy the newest Jump issues alongside her if you pass by the bookstore and leave them in my room. I’ll read them later.” You had requested. 

 

He’s also been taking notes of all the cafes and names of desserts he’s been trying with Fuka, as well as photos to reminisce in the memories of later. He had to make up something on the spot when Fuka asked about the change in phone case, but he’s been gazing lovingly at the pictures of Fuka posing cutely with the desserts at the table sometimes. Call him creepy, but he really won’t ever get an opportunity like this again. 

 

Sometimes he feels put on the spot whenever Fuka drags him into a clothing store, like he’s being put to the test by God when he has to change into a different outfit in your body. Tanaka does his best not to do anything to your body that you wouldn’t be okay with, but he can’t help staring in the mirror when he’s stripped down to his undergarments. 

 

He’s gotten a hang of this bra thing, and now it only takes him about a minute to put it on properly. Although he had gotten scolded by you one day when you noticed that he had worn a more racy set of underwear under the school uniform. 

 

Why the hell are you wearing those?? ” You had whispered in a frenzy when you had pulled him aside to have him adjust the skirt on your body. 

 

“I thought they were cute!” he had reasoned. Well… all of the underwear in your drawer was cute, but these were the ones that got his heart pumping and made him super curious, so he tried on the thong and it was surprisingly freeing and sexually empowering. “And wait… were you just checking me out?” 

 

“It’s my body, I have every right to check it out.” You had huffed with a raised eyebrow. Tanaka took note of how cool that expression looked on his face at the moment. 

 

Today was slightly more modest, but he still opted for the lighter pink set because he thought it would look cute on you. And lord almighty, does it look cute on you. He spends so much time turning around and admiring your almost naked body in the mirror that he forgets that Fuka is outside waiting to see the outfit, “[Name]-chan? Are you ready?” 

 

“S-Sorry! Give me a minute.” He stutters out before scrambling to throw the dress over his head and slipping his arms into the holes of the garment. When he finally pulls the curtain of the changing stall aside, the first thing he sees is Fuka dressed in another adorable summer dress in a different color. She’s absolutely precious, and undoubtedly beautiful, but she has a different kind of charm than you. Fuka is cute and sweet and lovely, and you… you’re… 

 

“Oh my gosh, [Name]-chan, you’re so beautiful!!” Fuka gasps with her hands cupping the bottom half of her face before she saunters forward to rest them on his shoulders. “You look so pretty in this dress, it looks amazing on you.” 

 

“Y-You really think so?” Tanaka chuckles, taking another glance in the mirror. And Fuka is right. This maroon, flare dress is really simple, but gives you such a beautiful, almost sophisticated look. It looks great on your body, and Tanaka can’t help but admire it a bit more openly now that it’s been brought to his attention. 

 

“It’s sooooo gorgeous, really.” Fuka insists, “Honestly, I was kind of surprised you agreed to try this on because you usually never even look at dresses. Which is such a shame, I mean, look how good this one looks on you!” 

 

“Well… I mean, I guess.” Tanaka considers as he continues to twirl back and forth in the dress, observing the way it fits and falls to the curves of your body. Come to think of it, your closet and drawers are full of jeans and shorts and maybe one or two skirts other than the one you wear to school every day. Nothing outside of the formal black dress for funerals stored back in the corner of your closet. 

 

“What about you, Fuka-chan? You look absolutely adorable! I really like this color on you.” He attempts to change the subject before she starts noticing more things that he’s doing that are out of character for you. 

 

The conversation derails to the small adjustments Fuka wishes the dress would have and she ends up putting it in a ‘no’ pile before trying on more clothes. Tanaka tries not to ogle too much thereafter and patiently goes through all the clothes that Fuka throws at him and recommends. 

 

The rest of the day continues on like it has the previous couple of days; browsing shops, eating snacks, playing games every so often, and taking maybe an hour or so to study once in a while. Fuka is a sweet, excitable girl, and she’s rather smart so she always claims that she knows most of the material already and doesn’t need to study that hard. “I’d rather spend my time having fun with you!” She had smiled and Tanaka’s heart almost escaped from his (well, your) chest. 

 

Still though, all the fun that he’s having hanging out with Fuka doesn’t stop him from noticing that she’s still a bit on edge about something. Maybe volleyball has ingrained that habit of noticing aural and physical details of those around him, because he can definitely tell that Fuka is giving off a similar energy to a team who’s on the brink of losing a set in a preliminary game. 

 

Tanaka already knew from before the switch that Fuka was the type to be easily frightened, since she would yelp and get extremely nervous at the sight of his face. It was… disheartening, but now that he’s seen his own face from another perspective, he can kind of understand how people would be intimidated from first impression. Although that’s his thing, so it’s not like he can change who he is. 

 

But comparing how Fuka acted around him to how she acts around you, and even other female classmates shows him that she only reacts that way when she’s possibly anticipating something he could only describe as… threatening. 

 

“Fuka-chan?” He calls her attention. 

 

Fuka stops swinging her feet over the seat of the park bench they’re sitting on to look up at him, smiling as she squeezes their hands that are laced together, “Yeah?” 

 

WHAT THE HECK WAS THAT?! IT WAS CUTE AS HECK AND TANAKA COULD VERY WELL DIE RIGHT AT THIS VERY MOMENT IF HE DIDN’T HAVE YOUR BODY TO TAKE RESPONSIBILITY FOR. 

 

Summoning all his willpower from deep within his manly soul, he suppresses his blush and clears his throat before asking, “How have you been these days? Something worrying you?” 

 

Fuka’s smile falls just a little, but she quirks it right back up before saying, “No, not really. What makes you say that?” 

 

“Well, you’ve been pretty stiff these past few days whenever we go home. Like you’re waiting for something to come out and jump at you.” Tanaka tries to keep the tone light, but Fuka’s eyes visibly falter for just a moment yet again. There is definitely something bothering her. “You know you can talk to me about anything, right?” He squeezes her hand in an attempt to reassure her. 

 

Fuka’s shoulders deflate a bit in what Tanaka hopes is relief, although her eyes are still hardened to hide something, “Thank you, [Name]-chan. But what about you? You’ve been kind of weird lately too. Don’t think I don’t notice that you and Tanaka-kun are always disappearing off together. What’s going on between you and him?”

 

“A-Ah! Him...  He’s uh…” Tanaka begins to run his hand through your silky hair in a nervous habit. It’s kind of strange having hair to run his fingers through again, but he finds the sensation comforting. “We’re just… being friendly, because of our moms. You know how it is…” he laughs in a way that he hopes is convincing. 

 

“Are you sure, [Name]-chan? Like, really sure? Because Tanaka-kun kind of scares me…” As expected… But Tanaka’s heart still cracks a little bit anyway. “And I saw him grabbing you! In a really rough, scary way! I was about to run in and try to help, but you didn’t seem scared and the situation calmed down after that but… still.”

 

Ah… Yes, that must’ve been the thong incident. 

 

“No! No, it’s nothing dangerous or anything like that. Tanaka-kun just has… some strong opinions. He’s very expressive about them…” he chuckles nervously, wondering how he can defend himself even though he wasn’t even the one who did anything incriminating. 

 

“Even so! I think I would’ve been scared half to death. I mean… He really looked like he could have hurt you! That’s really scary… having someone threaten your safety…” Fuka’s voice trails off in a rather thoughtful manner, like she’s thinking about something else all of a sudden, “D-Doesn’t that scare you?” She follows up in attempt to return the attention to him. 

 

“Fuka-chan, are you really okay?” Tanaka all but demands this time, unable to stop his serious expression from marring your face. 

 

“Y-Yeah! Of course!” Tanaka can feel Fuka’s palm beginning to sweat in his. “I’m just… It’s just… You know, I’m probably just stressed. Or tired or something. Maybe we should go home for today.” 

 

Tanaka observes her for another few moments, and Fuka’s hand doesn’t become any less damp. But he doesn’t want to continue making her feel uncomfortable, so he takes a deep sigh and relents, “Alright, if that’s what you want. Let’s go.” 

 

Fuka just hums an affirmation and follows along with her hand still in his. It’s cold. 




*



“Hey, you got a minute?” Tanaka pulls you aside to one corner of the less populated hallways and you endure the wiggling eyebrows and excited expressions of your male classmates as you follow. They’ve been ecstatic and surprisingly envious of your “interaction” with yourself these past couple of days because you and Tanaka have been updating each other not only through text and calls, but in person as well. 

 

You both try to limit in-person interactions to a minimum for more pressing questions because how would you explain your sudden friendship anyway? So far, you’ve both been going with a story about how your moms are friends and they’re using you to communicate with each other while one of their phones doesn’t work or something. 

 

Tanaka leans with one arm pressed against the wall, with his (your) arms crossed. You take a moment to admire how cool your body looks in that posture, and how it kind of gives your breasts a little push. Tanaka manages to pull off a sexy look on you. “Hey, so I wanted to ask, is there something going on with Fuka?”

 

That makes your eyebrows furrow together, “What do you mean?” 

 

“She was acting kind of weird yesterday. Like… she didn’t want to go home, and she kept looking around like she was looking for someone or something.” This is the first you’re hearing about this kind of behavior. Does Fuka usually do that? You do recall there were times when you both wouldn’t go home until after the sun had set, but you remember you had done it with good energy that made you lose track of time. 

 

“Really? When did you guys end up going home?” 

 

“Pretty late. Like maybe seven? She seemed pretty antsy whenever it came time to part ways, so I’ve been walking her home these days. But is everything… okay with her? Is her family… like…” The sight of concern on your own face is almost disconcerting, but you can tell that Tanaka is genuinely worried about your best friend. So maybe this actually is something serious. 

 

Even if it is though, “Fuka-chan is super close with her family. Her little brother likes to annoy her sometimes but I can’t imagine that she’d ever be reluctant to go home. Her mom is the sweetest lady you’ll ever meet, and her dad is quite kind as well. I’ve met all of them and she’s only ever happy when she talks about her family.”

 

“Hmm.” Tanaka holds his chin in his fingers in pondering thought, “What about school then? Or people she knows outside of school? Is there anyone that… she doesn’t get along with? That would scare her?”

 

“No.” That makes your furrow your eyebrows even more, “I mean, come on. You know Fuka-chan by now. Everything scares her! When I sneak up behind her too suddenly, she gets frightened. Don’t you remember how freaked out she was when you asked her for a pencil?” 

 

Tanaka groans a little at the memory, but nods anyway. 

 

“But she’s a good student, and a nice girl. Who could ever dislike someone so cute? The meanest person she’s ever encountered is probably a teacher who scolded her for losing a bouncy ball in grade school.” 

 

“Hmm.” There he goes again with the cryptic humming. How weird must Fuka have been acting for Tanaka to be this concerned? “So you can’t think of a single person who would make her feel… unsafe?” 

 

“Unsafe?” You repeat, dumbfounded. Has it really come to that? Has there been something going on in Fuka’s life that you haven’t caught on to? “I… can’t think of anyone, no. But, if you really feel like it’s that concerning, then can I ask you to just keep an eye on her for now? Reassure her and make sure she’s okay?” 

 

“Of course. I’ll do everything I can.” He announces with a solid determination that kind of, almost inspires you. 

 

“Wow. You’re really worried about her.” You comment offhandedly. 

 

“Well, why wouldn’t I be?” The way he asks sounds so rhetorical that you almost take a step back, aghast at his completely serious demeanor. Not at all the stuttering, shy reply you had been expecting at your attempted tease. “She’s clearly uncomfortable about something. Any jerk who’s going to make a sweet, young girl like Fuka-chan feel that way doesn’t deserve to live on.” 

 

“Oh.” 

 

You both just stand there in a bit awkward tension for a while. Or at least, it’s awkward for you. Tanaka looks like he’s stewing in both anger and passionate conviction right now because he’s so concerned about your best friend’s well-being. You get the feeling that it’s probably similar to how intense he might get on the volleyball court, from what you’ve gathered that people expect from him when you’re at practice. 

 

Quite honestly, it really is intense. You have no idea how you could possibly imitate an aura like that. And you’ve come to learn that every volleyball player has an aura. All the third-years have this strange maturity to them when they’re on the court and in the zone, although they each give off different vibes. The same goes for the really energetic first-years who have been pulling off quick attacks on the daily that you didn’t even know were humanly possible. 

 

Most of all, the biggest aura comes from the smallest package of the other second-year boy that Tanaka’s rather close with; Nishinoya. You have never been so overwhelmed by a guy’s energy, he’s like a spirit of the wild. But you do your best to stay in character and keep up with all these “manly” conversations you have during practice and in the club room. 

 

“Ryu! How’s the jump serve coming along?! Want me to help?!”

 

“Ryu! Kiyoko-san is off refilling the water bottles! We should go help her carry them back!!” 

 

“Ryu! Don’t get discouraged. Even if you’re not in tiptop condition, you’re still the manliest guy around!!” 

 

As hard as you try to embody this “manliness” that they seem to expect of you, you really can’t get it perfect. It’s exhausting shouting and cheering for every single play that’s made, especially on top of having to make some of them yourself, and some of the other more observant members can tell. 

 

You’ve been getting along with another boy in your grade, Ennoshita. He’s a calming spirit amidst all these wild things, and you appreciate your small chats with him every so often. Although the downside to it is that his careful, observant, and frank personality is clearly suspicious of your behavior. 

 

“Tanaka, is there something up with you? You’ve been weird lately.” He’s so outright with it when he catches you during your break. 

 

He joins you outside of the gymnasium, leaning against the wall beside you. You had to step outside for your break because you really cannot keep up with all this jock-y conversation, in spite of how you’re starting to pick up on the jargon. There is really too much testosterone in there for you to handle. 

 

“Ennoshita! Ah, it’s uh, nothing too big. I’m just figuring something out right now, but I’ll be back in action soon enough.” You hope… 

 

“Well, you’re hard-headed enough not to let anything too small get in the way of volleyball. So I’m sure that whatever it is you’ve got going on, it’s important.” You can’t tell if he’s being rude or empathetic, but you’ll give him the benefit of the doubt and assume it’s the latter. “And you know we’re here to help out if you need.”

 

“Thank you.” You smile gently, truly grateful to have a normal conversation. You’re tempted to even open up a bit. “It’s kind of weird, nothing I’ve ever gone through before. So I have to take some time to wrap my head around it myself.” 

 

You wonder if Tanaka is going through as much confusion as you are, or if maybe he’s having so much fun in your body that he’s forgotten about his own life. But you internally chuckle at that, because nah. 

 

If there’s anything you’ve learned in these past couple of days gruelling through morning practice, and school, and hours of after school practice, it’s that Tanaka’s passion for volleyball exceeds anything else you’ve imagined. It’s clear just interacting with his teammates who have and expect the same energy towards the sport from you. 

 

You and he are going to get through this, and you’re going to get your lives back. “Luckily, I have someone going through the same thing that I can talk to. So it’s not too bad.” You mention, twirling your water bottle around in your hand with your swerving wrist. 

 

“Ah, you mean [Surname]-san?” 

 

If you had been drinking that water from bottle, you’d probably have done a spit take. If Ennoshita, who’s in another class, has noticed your interactions with Tanaka during the school day, then you guys must be a lot less subtle than you had been going for. “You noticed?” you chuckle humorlessly, “As expected of Ennoshita, quite the observative one.” 

 

“Well, it’s honestly not that hard to notice.” 

 

Crap. “It isn’t?” you turn to him at a loss, wondering why you’re even trying then.

 

“I mean, come on, Tanaka. Your face scares off every girl you see. All of a sudden, one girl is regularly initiating conversation with you? It’s like watching a miracle of God at work.”

 

Ouch. You’re not even Tanaka but you felt that jab right through your own chest. 

 

“Jeez, Ennoshita. Is it really that impossible for a guy like me? I’m actually pretty cool, I don’t why it was that hard to notice…” Strange, how you find your actual thoughts leaking out of your mouth so easily with this easy-going, yet savage friend of Tanaka’s. Is it weird that you find some charm in Tanaka now that you’ve been living his lifestyle? Even his friends don’t seem to think that highly of him in the popularity department despite how well they get along. 

 

“Well, past your face and baldness--” 

 

“Hey!”

 

“And the fact that you’re quick to strip and show off, and how undeniably desperate you are—”

 

“Uhh...”

 

“There must be something that’s charming about you. You managed to get one girl’s attention, at least. [Surname]-san seems nice. Don’t mess it up and there just might be hope for you.” Ennoshita just spouts all this as casually as if he was talking about schoolwork or how his day went. Incredible. 

 

However, “It’s not like that between us.” Understanding Tanaka better to find charm in him is different from being attracted to him. You admit that this experience isn’t as bad as it could be because it’s just entertaining to mess with Tanaka while he’s in your body, but… no, it’s not like that. “We’re just helping each other out during a… weird time.” 

 

“How surprisingly mature of you.” Ennoshita comments, sounding genuinely impressed, “You’ve been pretty calm these days, which has been relaxing on our ears but kind of confusing for the atmosphere. Hope that whatever you’re going through passes and you can feel like yourself again. And like I said, we’re here for you if you ever need.” 

 

He pats your shoulder comfortingly and smiles with his sleepy eyes before returning to the gym. You suppose you should head back in soon too. Don’t want to slack off too much, especially now that you know that people have been catching on to your un-Tanaka like behavior more than you thought. 

 

You try not to think too much about Tanaka for the rest of practice, and just throw yourself into being him for the duration of it. Make a powerful spike, cheer loudly whenever you get it in, lament loudly when you don’t, use your voice as much as possible, laugh and tease at your friends, show off and get cocky. It becomes a little easier as you drown yourself in your role. 

 

It also leaves you exhausted as ever when you walk home with the boys and practically collapse on the floor of the entrance hall when you close the door to the house. You’re groaning as you catch a breath when the same blonde who came to check up on you the first morning you woke up in the house comes to greet you, “Ryu? You finally home? Come eat! I made karaage.” 

 

“Nee-chan!!!” You cry out as if the angels have come down to greet you, because Saeko is truly sent from God. When you step into the kitchen, though, you’re greeted by a couple new faces that occupy the table. 

 

“Oh? Good evening.” You try to sound as casual as possible, because these two adults look pretty similar to both the Tanaka siblings, so you want to say they’re his parents. But at the same time, you could be wrong and they could be some close relatives or family friends. So you wait for someone to give you a nudge in the right direction. 

 

“Ryu, my boy! What’s with that greeting, huh?” The man at the table grins with his arms held wide open. When you approach with an awkward laugh, the man who you’re assuming is Tanaka’s father claps you on the back, “How was practice, huh? You doing good?” 

 

“Yeup!” You try to sound as enthusiastic as possible, “Our first years are crazy, so we’ve been getting into a new rhythm.” You also try to sound like you know what you’re talking about. 

 

“Is that so?” Possibly-Mr. Tanaka barks with another laugh and claps at your back before gesturing for you to sit and eat, “You must be hungry, working up a sweat like that.” 

 

“Starving.” You groan with absolutely sincerity, dropping into your seat and almost drooling at the smell of fried chicken, “Thanks, nee-chan.” 

 

“Uh huh!” She calls from by the sink, where a woman beside her is helping her dry the dishes as she cleans them. 

 

While you start scarfing down your dinner, the two new adults who’ve arrived are indeed revealed to be the Tanaka parents and they’re back for a couple of days to restock on local materials for their next trip back down to their main commercial city for their business. 

 

“So how’s school been, Ryu-chan?” His mother asks, “You doing well in class?” 

 

“Y-Yeah, not too bad.” Tanaka’s performance in class has been better since you’ve been acting in his place lately, but from what you’ve seen before, he was usually pretty average or below average in ranking for exams. But are you supposed to put up a front and please his parents or just be brash and proud of your underachievements?? 

 

“Yeah right! I bet you’re hitting more volleyballs than books since that’s all that’s ever in your head.” Tanaka’s father laughs again as he rubs at your shaved head — a loud, guttural laugh from a man who’s experienced a lot of life and still finds plenty of joy in it. You like it. 

 

“Well, we’re trying to go to nationals here!” You say defensively, expecting Tanaka would answer similarly but also feeling how much you mean it. The volleyball club works endlessly hard with nationals in mind, despite the odds being held against them. In the short time you’ve trained with them so far, you can’t help but root for them with all your heart. 

 

“Nationals, huh?! Now that’s the kind of ambition I like to see! You better make it onto Miyagi Sports TV then, otherwise you’ll just be all talk.” 

 

“Do your best, Ryu-chan.” His mother smiles. “You’re gonna be the coolest on the court.”

 

You have to pause in awe of how bright and supportive this family is. How they don’t dwell too hard on what Tanaka lacks in academic achievement, but wholeheartedly support him in the endeavors he’s passionate about. No wonder Tanaka has such strong mental fortitude, he’s got a loving and supportive family backing him up. So you smile back like you’re going to make them proud, “Yeah. Thanks.” 



*



“All RIGHT!!!” Tanaka shouts in victory when he manages to shoot down a good combo of zombies on the screen. He blows a dramatic puff of air at the muzzle of the game rifle before placing it back in the holder. 

 

“Wow, [Name]-chan! I know you said you liked these kinds of games before but I didn’t know how good you were at them!” Fuka pants, catching her breath from all the scares she had at the zombies coming out of nowhere on screen. 

 

“I’m not that good, but it’s still fun when you put your all into it!” Tanaka tries not to sound too flattered by Fuka’s compliment, knowing full well that he’s not the best gamer in the world. But the fact that he can come to an arcade to play games with a cute girl like Fuka and watch her adorable reactions to playing really sends his spirit up into the clouds. 

 

Especially in moments like these, when Fuka groans and leans her head on his shoulder, slinking her arm around his, “That really freaked me out. Your heart is so strong…” 

 

“It’s nothing like that. You get used to it eventually when you play enough, and the more you practice…” Tanaka goes on as the two of them begin to leave the arcade. They had stopped by to play for half an hour or so, but it was clear that Fuka’s heart could only take so much in day. 

 

So to help her settle down, Tanaka and Fuka just take a walk around the shopping streets, stopping in front of several shops and several booths where the employees ask them to try out their products. Fuka is totally cute as she tries to figure out how to play with the different toys or skin products that people offer to them. 

 

The two are browsing inside a rather large accessory and charm store that also has a handful of clothes stored to the side, trying on different sunglasses and oversized hats when Fuka gasps and pulls another item down from the shelf, “[Name]-chan, look! These look so cool, I feel like they’re kind of your style too. What do you think?”

 

Tanaka stares down at the pair of clear, silver mirror swimming goggles that seem to reflect several pretty colors off of the frames. “Why?” he voices his thoughts as he takes and inspects the goggles in his hand. The material seems sturdy enough for an accessory store, though he can’t make an educated guess about it. 

 

“Well, I mean, I know you kind of stopped swimming after middle school, but I don’t think it’d be a bad idea to have an extra pair just in case?” she shrugs with a cute smile. 

 

Tanaka only offers a thoughtful hum in return, staring at the goggles as if they’ll give him all the answers to the questions popping up in his head about you. You used to swim? And you stopped once you got to high school? It’s true, Karasuno doesn’t really have a swim club, since there isn’t really a pool they could access that easily to practice in regularly. Was it something you enjoyed doing, though? Or did you give it up because it just wasn’t something you wanted to keep doing? 

 

He could try to probe Fuka for answers, but how weird would it be for you not to even remember your own swimming history? Then again, it wouldn’t be the strangest thing you’ve asked all week. She had given Tanaka a particularly weird look when she kept trying to subtly ask for a tampon to use, but he wasn’t getting the memo. So what could another weird question hurt? 

 

“Say, Fuka-chan, do you reme—” 

 

Tanaka doesn’t get to finish his question though, because Fuka’s gasp and suddenly white face has his full attention. It’s like she’s seen a family of ghosts, the shock is just that apparent in her whole body. 

 

“Fuka-chan, what’s the matter?” 

 

“N-Nothing!” Her voice is weird. A higher pitch than Tanaka has ever remembered hearing, even when he was back in his own body. “Let’s just… let’s just keep looking around.” 

 

Fuka grabs Tanaka’s hand with the strength of a mother in labor and drags him deeper into the store. Tanaka drops the goggles on the table of sunglasses and other eye accessories and trips after her. Although they don’t seem to have the same ease as before when they were browsing, and Fuka’s eyes keep darting to the entrance of the shop. 

 

Tanaka tries to subtly follow and catch what she’s looking for, but can’t seem to notice a thing. All too suddenly, Fuka makes a break for the exit, dragging him with her and speed walking down the street as if she’s trying to run from something. “F-Fuka-chan! Slow down, slow down!” Tanaka pleads, tripping over the sidewalk cracks and bumping into other bystanders. 

 

The density of the crowd is staggering, and Fuka’s litheness is a new talent he’s discovered. Who would’ve thought the small girl could be so agile? 

 

It’s not until about five blocks later that Fuka decides to take a rest at a red light. Those were some of the longest blocks that Tanaka has ever run. In his own body, that distance would’ve been nothing, but he supposes not training every day will leave him winded more easily. 

 

“Fu… ka… chan…” He pants.

 

“So… rry…” she pants along. 

 

“What was… that abo--” 

 

“Excuse me, miss. You dropped your wallet back there.” 

 

Tanaka’s eyebrows furrow when he sees Fuka’s expression flash freeze. Her entire body is frozen actually, like it’s forgotten how to breathe. She doesn’t look like she wants to look up. 

 

“Excuse me?” The voice calls out again and Fuka straightens as calmly as she can while trying to make herself seem as small and invisible as possible. Or at least, that’s what Tanaka thinks she’s trying to do. 

 

He looks back and meets eyes with a man who’s holding a baby blue coin pouch out to them, “Is this yours?” 

 

There’s no name on it, but Tanaka does recognize the delicate white trim of the edges of the pouch that Fuka fumbles with when organizing bills and coins after a dessert. “Oh hey, that does look like yours, doesn’t it Fuka-chan?” He turns back to Fuka to ask.

 

However, she suddenly seems to be in a hurry again, “Oh… yeah.” She replies stiffly, not even looking up at the man who’s returning the wallet. 

 

“Fuka-chan?” Tanaka calls again, looking back and forth between her and the man. 

 

“Well, here you are.” The man extends his reach a little farther with a step forward, but Tanaka whips his head around when he hears a short gasp from Fuka. She’s not evening looking in this direction anymore, just staring insistently at the stoplight as she mumbles a soft thank you. 

 

“Uhm…” Tanaka takes the liberty of grabbing the wallet for her and thanking the man before the light turns green, and Fuka starts walking off on her own. “Huh? Fuka-chan!” He gives the man a last hurried thanks and chases after her for another three blocks. 

 

Actually, they keep a hurried pace until they hop on a bus and ride for about twenty minutes before getting off two miles away from Fuka’s neighborhood. She didn’t seem to want to talk during or after the ride, so the walk back to her house was rather solemn. But eventually, when they stopped in front of her house and Tanaka handed her back her wallet, he asked, “Fuka-chan, are you okay? You seemed really spooked back there. Is something wrong?” 

 

“It’s nothing, [Name]-chan.” She denies with a small, fake smile on her face. Unfortunately, Tanaka does not find this look that cute on her. 

 

“It’s not nothing, you were scared about something.” He steps forward, boldly picking up her hand. Uncharacteristic for his heart not to be thundering in his chest right now, but Fuka needs him right now. Or rather, she needs her best friend, who he is posing as. “Fuka-chan, whatever it is, you can tell me. I can help you.” 

 

“Thanks, [Name]-chan, really. But it’s nothing you need to worry about. I don’t want to get you involved.” She says with a squeeze, “I promise I’m fine. I’ll see you tomorrow?” 

 

He feels an intensive, dire need to probe further, because he can’t stand to see a sweet girl upset for any reason. But maybe it’s not his place, and he’s missing something that you have the right pieces to. You would probably be better able to comfort Fuka during this time, so he decides to leave it for now. 



*



“I’m telling you, there’s something really weird going on.” 

 

Tanaka is insisting that Fuka was being weird all day yesterday after school, but you have no idea why she would be acting the way she is. At least, not according to how he’s telling the story. Which is rather dramatic — you decided not to dwell on how detailed his retelling of Fuka’s sad expressions were. The infatuation fogged up your imagery of the encounter. 

 

“Well, this is honestly all news to me. Fuka-chan has never acted that way around me before. Are you sure you’re not the one making her nervous with… ‘unusual’ behavior or something?” You put in air quotes, wondering if your best friend suspects anything. “But then again, we never really hung out as often as you two are hanging out now. And not for that long either.” 

 

“Ugh, this is just frustrating to see her so upset and not know what to do about it.” Tanaka runs his fingers through his (your) hair with a guttural sigh. You can’t help but notice how it just stays like that for a little before falling back down. 

 

“Tanaka, when was the last time you washed your hair?” You reroute the conversation. 

 

“Huh? Uh, must’ve been like… three days ago or something?” 

 

“Three days??” You burst, forgetting how loud your voice is with Tanaka’s lungs, giving everyone else in the hallway a bit of a jolt. You hold your hand up in a casual apology before turning to speak in a more indoor voice, “No wonder it’s getting greasy! You have to wash it every other day, or else it’ll look disgusting!” 

 

“Ugh, but you have so much hair!” Tanaka groans, combing his fingers through some of it and grabbing, “Look at this, I don’t know how you maintain it. I kind of miss having a shaved head.” He looks up at you somewhat longingly at his own body’s hair, “You’ve been growing it out though. Should probably touch that up every week or so.” 

 

“Tanaka, I don’t want to have to be in this body for another week! As cool as it is living your life, I want my own back.” You sigh as the warning bell for the end of break rings through the halls. “But tomorrow’s finally Friday, we can go to back to the temple after school and finally ask that shrine maiden about the omamori.” 

 

“Right. Tomorrow.” Tanaka looks down at the floor as you both approach the classroom again. “I’ll have to come up with something to tell Fuka-chan if we can’t go home together. I don’t want her to go home alone or scared.”

 

“She’ll be fine for a day. She’s done it before.” You reassure him, “Despite how squeamish she can get, she’s a tough girl. Don’t worry about her.” 





Honestly, you had other things to worry about. Like volleyball practice, and how you guys had a practice match coming up. Since you’ve still been “off” you were on the bench for the starting rotation. But that didn’t mean you wouldn’t be called up based on the coach and the team’s expectations and hopes in you. Or more specifically, Tanaka’s legacy. 

 

You know by now that Tanaka was one of the powerful left spikers on the team, and an admirable pillar of energy for the team. So you feel rather guilty about not being able to provide the team the crazy, energetic foundation that they’re used to. And just sucking at the sport in general. 

 

Right now, you’re at about 50% spiking rate for all balls set for you. Which is better than the 10% you had started out with from P.E. class experience. All you can do pre-game is actively warm up and greet the opposing school’s club members like you’re used to this. You haven’t done this kind of formal sports club stuff in a while. It makes you a bit nostalgic. 

 

But that’s easy to say when you have such a fit body to work with. You still cannot get over Tanaka’s lean muscles every time you take off your shirt in front of a mirror. And if you’re completely honest, you have definitely copped a feel or two. A day… 

 

It makes PE class a hell of a lot easier. You usually take it pretty easy as not to overexert your own body, but Tanaka’s body? It was just built to do so much more. Some of your classmates are competitive hotheads who turn every sport or test into an event, so at least you don’t look weird being the only one cashing in all your young, male energy. 

 

Today your class is on the track field, and you’re dicking around with your male classmates for the timed dashes, while the girls run the same ones on the other side of the field. When Tanaka’s name is called up with several other boys, you line up alongside them in your assigned lane. 

 

It’s strange, but your blood boils with anticipated energy for this little PE test. Now that you have Tanaka’s body as a tool, you want to use it to the best of your ability. So when the whistle is blown, you rush at the finish line like you have something to prove, and you end up with a time for the 100 meter that you never thought possible. It very well still may be impossible if you were in your own body, even if you were as active as you were in middle school, but you’ll savor this moment for now. 

 

As you catch your breath, you turn over to where the girls are, and you spot Tanaka and Fuka together, as usual. She’s a little stiff, but she always has been when it comes to athletics. Maybe Tanaka will give her some sound advice and techniques while he’s in your body. In the distance, you notice how he puts a hand on Fuka’s shoulder as he says something to her. 

 

Wow, they’ve gotten close enough for Tanaka to be comfortable to do that. It’s kind of hard to believe consider how frantically he would behave around girls at the beginning while in your body. You’re grateful that he got a little more used to it overtime, but you’re also a little envious that he’s rather close with your best friend now. 

 

Thinking back to what he said earlier today, he sounded really concerned about her. He’s likely picked up on a lot of her little anxious quirks and habits, as well as her happy moments at the cafes and lunch. You wonder how weird Fuka must have acted for Tanaka to have brought up something like that. Because if there was something going on with her, surely she would’ve told you by now? Or at least, told Tanaka, who would then relay it to you. 

 

Fuka is your best friend, but she still keeps some things to herself. Like the pains and pressures of expectations her family has of her, or coming to terms with the fact that she has mild depression and anxiety, and not wanting to bother her family or friends about it when they’ve got other worries to tend to. You’ve always presented yourself to Fuka as a safe place, and encouraged her to express herself openly, but that doesn’t make it any easier for her to do it. 

 

From what you’ve gathered by acting as interim-Tanaka for the past week or so, you know that Tanaka is supposed to be a rather observant individual, and an overall fair judge of character. His teammates often expect him to notice many details about certain plays or strategies, and it’s clear that volleyball requires a lot of vigilance and instinct. If Tanaka has noticed something off about Fuka, maybe it really is something to look out for? 

 

Just as you’re contemplating all of this, one of the boys pipes up, “Hey, what’s going on over there?” 

 

You follow his gaze back over to the girls’ side of the track field, and your eyes widen as you see everyone gathering around and making a worrisome commotion over someone. It’s only for a second, but you just manage to catch your body kneeling on the ground holding onto another girl. And before it’s even fully clicked in your head, your body is moving. 

 

“Tanaka?” You can hear the boys faintly call out after you, but your vision has tunneled. 

 

All you’re concerned about is what’s happening within that circle of girls right now and what has happened to your friend. In seconds, you’re across the field and shouting for everyone to move it or lose it. 

 

Though what you find is what you expected to see, it doesn’t make you feel any less dread. “Fuka-chan… Fuka-chan!” You shout, already on your knees beside her, gently slapping at her face in an attempt to wake her up. 

 

“Fuka-chan!” You shout again, louder. She’s had fainting spells before, but she’s never been down for more than a few seconds. “Fuka-chan!!” Your voice is starting to sound desperate. You really, really don’t want to have to do this, but you bring two fingers down to her pulse, and find that it’s really just barely moving. So you begin to slap her a little harder, on the shoulder this time, shouting her name endless times. 

 

No dice. You check her pulse again and no, no, no, no, no, fuck no . “Tell the teacher to call an ambulance!” You point at Tanaka, who’s staring down at you with intense worry, but shakily nods and runs off per your orders. “You! Go try and find an AED!” You order to another student nearby. 

 

And you get right to work pumping at Fuka’s chest, trying to calm your nerves enough not to get too sporadic with your compressions. All of your previous CPR training comes flooding back to your body through muscle memory, for which you’re thankful, because all you can think about right now is keeping your friend alive. 

 

 

26

 

27

 

28

 

29

 

30… 

 

Pinching her nose to tilt her head back, you lean down low and blow into her mouth twice without a second thought. Completely forgetting how scandalous this must look to your classmates despite the urgency of the situation. 

 

Again.

 

… 

 

 

2

 

3

 

4

 

 

You repeat the cycle twice before checking her pulse again. And thank every single lord that may be out there, it’s returned, albeit only slightly. So you go through the cycle just once more before you check again and begin shaking and shouting once more, “Fuka-chan! Stay with me now. Fuka-chan!” 

 

And just then, a ray of god shines down upon your best friend’s face; she opens her eyes with a strangled cough. You call her name several more times as she begins to blink her eyes open. She looks more than confused as she starts to make sense of everything, “Ta… Tanaka-kun...?” She murmurs weakly before coughing again. 

 

“Oh, thank goodness!” You groan in relief, and you can hear all sorts of cries and shouts around you from fellow students. You hush Fuka and just tell her to relax and catch her breath. So she nods with a hum before slowly closing her eyes again, this time from exhaustion. 

 

You keep her head elevated with your hand and two fingers on her pulse as you wait for the teacher to arrive with the paramedics. It all blurs around you as you just stare down at Fuka while they put her on a stretcher and carry her to the ambulance. The teacher announces he’ll be going with Fuka to the hospital and for everyone to return to the classroom. 

 

Gathering enough of your senses to realize that Fuka is now in the truck with the professionals, you turn over to yourself. Or, not yourself, but Tanaka, who’s in your body, “You should go with her.” 

 

“Me?” He stares back through your moist, wide eyes. Huh, who knew you could see so much emotion through your very own eyes? “Are you sure?”

 

“She’ll need a familiar face beside her when she wakes up properly. And you were right. You need to help me figure out what it is that had her so freaked out.” You explain in a lowered voice, “Please, Tanaka.” 

 

He must hear the pleading in your voice if he doesn’t see it on your face, so he just answers you with a nod and flags down the teacher to announce he’s coming along. When the doors are closed and they drive off, you just stand there for another few minutes, trying to register that you just almost lost your best friend. 

 

Your best friend, who has been troubled to the point of fainting and losing her own pulse. Your best friend who has had something bothering her for who knows how long, and you hadn’t even noticed. It took Tanaka barely a week to realize that something was off, and you had no idea that there was something going on that was so serious that it would incite a reaction in her body as extreme as this. 

 

You should be there with her right now. You should be doing so much more than just standing here, staring after where the ambulance had been parked. But… you’re still in shock. If it took Fuka almost dying to get you to wake up and realize something was wrong, then were you really the friend you thought you were? 



*



Tanaka hopes you don’t mind him chewing so hard on your lip. He’s nervous beyond belief. He’s never been in a situation as dire as this, and he can’t imagine how you must be feeling right now, having to send him off to accompany your best friend while you’re stuck in school for another two hours. 

 

The ambulance ride was sizzling with tension, though the teacher tried to ask him a few questions about the situation when Fuka fainted. He’s barely able to answer because he’s just so torn up with his own questions. 

 

What had happened? They were talking rather normally during the day, but then Tanaka kind of brought up the trip to the store yesterday, and Fuka suddenly tensed up. She seemed reluctant to answer, but she still looked physically stable. What caused such an extreme reaction all of a sudden? Did she suddenly start overthinking everything after he had brought up yesterday? Would that be enough for her body to shut down to the point of needing CPR? 

 

Everything just buzzes in Tanaka’s head for the next minutes as Fuka is brought into the emergency room for some tests, and he answers whatever questions are asked of him robotically. Every minute feels far too long, yet passes ever so quickly as they wait for the doctors to finish their diagnosis. 

 

Thankfully, Fuka is resting stably, and the doctors explain that she’ll be fine. She just needs to monitor her stress levels and stay hydrated — It had been a combination of a panic attack, which also incited a reaction from her preexisting asthma. Her mind and body reacted together in a few ways by causing a fainting spell and closing off a few airways in the sudden shock. Luckily, her condition was now stable, so she would be discharged in a few hours. 

 

After her parents showed up to check on her and promise to come back to pick her up after work, they headed out again. The teacher had left for school as well, so Tanaka is left alone with Fuka in the aftermath. He had promised to keep Fuka company until her parents returned. 

 

He wants to ask so badly what happened, but he reads that Fuka doesn’t need to be bombarded with more questions she doesn’t want to answer just yet. So he just takes his seat beside her bed near the window and wraps a hand around hers. Fuka smiles appreciatively and turns her palm up to curl her fingers around his hand too. 

 

And to his surprise, she speaks first, “I’m sorry for scaring you like that.” 

 

“No, no. Don’t be sorry at all. I’m just— We’re all just so glad that you’re okay. Truly.” He says in your soft, comforting voice. It’s a lot more fitting for this scenario than his usual scratchy timbre. 

 

“Thank you… For looking out for me… Always.” She looks down at her lap in the bed, with an expression that’s full of emotions that one face can’t hold at once. “And… you were right. There’s something going on that’s… that’s been scaring me…” 

 

Tanaka takes a moment to gather his thoughts and snooze the alarms in his head shouting at him to ask all kinds of questions. It’s weird, but he feels strangely calmer in this body. Maybe without all his usual energy, he’s capable of letting his thoughts settle first before leaving his mouth. “Would you… like to talk about it?” 

 

That’s a sensible question, right? Not too intrusive or demanding? 

 

Fuka takes a deep breath to prepare. She takes a few of them, actually, but Tanaka gives her as much time as she needs. “Y-You remember… that man? Who found my wallet?” 

 

Tanaka wracks his memories for a face that matches the man from yesterday, “Yeah.” 

 

“And do you remember how I used to go to Cafe Belle Vie almost every weekend?” She continues, fingers trembling a little in his hand. 

 

“Yeah.” He lies, repeating the name of the cafe in his head in order to remember it for later. 

 

“Well, there was another regular customer who went there. We would run into each other sometimes, and share a conversation about desserts or baking…” Her voice is starting to lower as she goes on. What Tanaka would do for his own ears right now. 

 

“At first, it was fun and interesting. I thought I was making a friend, even. But then… he started offering to buy my drinks and desserts, and to sit at his table with him. And when I would leave, he would offer to walk me home and asked me for my contact information. I… didn’t think anything of it at first, so I just gave it to him…” 

 

This is when Fuka has to take a deep breath before continuing. Tanaka offers her water or to just not continue, but she shakes her head and powers through, “He didn’t really contact me much, just on weekends, asking me if I would be at the cafe that day or something. But then he would be waiting for him in the cafe like usual and we’d talk… and he’d walk me home again. But then he started messaging me more. Asking me how I am, or about school, or what other desserts I’m trying… 

 

“And then… sometimes he would call me. And I don’t know, the calls were already weird because he’d start asking personal questions. And he’d invite me to meet outside of Cafe Belle Vie. I’d always say that I’m busy with school or homework, but he would get really insistent… And I started getting uncomfortable… but I couldn’t really bring myself to be rude, so I just stopped responding to him one day.” 

 

She sucks in another breath, and Tanaka is clenching his other hand in a fist as he listens to Fuka tell her story. “I stopped going to Cafe Belle Vie too, which only made him send more messages, asking why I didn’t come that weekend, or if I didn’t want to see him. And still, I didn’t respond. I thought that if I didn’t reply or answer his calls anymore that he’d eventually leave me alone. But then…”

 

Another breath. She squeezes Tanaka’s hand, and Tanaka squeezes back, hoping to be reassuring. “Then… one day, he was waiting outside of my house when I got home after school. It was late in the afternoon, so I wasn’t sure how long he had been waiting there.”

 

Tanaka really does have to apologize to you if your lip swells from all this biting he does. And possibly for a sore jaw from all the teeth clenching. 

 

“Still… I tried to be polite and I just asked him to leave me alone because I’m still a student and busy and all that. But he kept talking to me and insisting that we were friends and that he… missed me. I was really scared at that point, so I just told him to leave and I ran into the house and locked the door. But he didn’t leave for a good ten minutes… 

 

“And then… Well, he’s been kind of showing up around me at random places ever since then, and… I didn’t know what to do. I’ve just been avoiding him, but he’s really scared me a few times. He already knows where I live, so that’s why I’ve been so afraid to go home…” Fuka’s lip trembles and her voice breaks a bit. Tanaka stands from his seat to rub her arm soothingly with his free hand, shushing her gently. 

 

“He… He’s there sometimes… I never know when, and it’s just… so awful… being afraid to go home.” She cries, tears streaking down her face to land on the hospital blanket on her lap. “And I feel so guilty… always having you walk me home, b-because… what if he does something to you too? It would be my fault, and I w-would never forgive myself…” 

 

At this point, Tanaka has let go of Fuka’s hand and wrapped his arms around her shoulders, bringing her against his (or, your soft) chest. He feels somewhat out of place comforting someone else’s best friend, especially a girl, but Fuka needs someone right now. She needs you. So he’ll fill in for you as long as she needs. 

 

She cries for a few more minutes and sniffles before calming her hiccoughs to finish her story, “A-And y-yesterday… He found us. At that store… He found us and chased after us… Even though we ran so far… He caught up to us… I was so afraid of what he would do to us, [Name]-chan…”

 

Tanaka nods and keeps stroking at her back with soft fingers, waiting patiently and letting her soak his shirt through to his chest. Though his body is gentle with handling Fuka, his mind is alight with rage right now, thinking about all the ways he wants to brutally punish that bastard who acted like he was innocently returning a wallet yesterday. What kind of horrid fucker would put a sweet girl through so much pain? 

 

He is going to spike thirty thousand volleyballs right into his face. 

 

He is going to kick his ass until his groin gets stuck in his stomach.

 

He is going to throw the bastard into the nearest ocean. 

 

“And… Today… I saw him at school.” 

 

Tanaka’s grip on Fuka tightens, “You what.”

 

“I s-saw him… standing outside of the gate… of the track field…” She cries, “He was just standing there… looking at me, like he was waiting for me. I got so scared… I don’t know what to do… He can find me so easily…” 

 

Tanaka is going to find a scythe to behead that rotten creep, and then slice off each and every one of his limbs, and have each of them burned in a different fire. 

 

But first, he lets Fuka cry it out. He just strokes her hair and her back for as long as it takes, and provides as solid of a support system as he can. When she finally pulls away to blow her nose and catch her breath, Tanaka speaks again, “Fuka-chan, thank you for telling me this. That must have been so, so scary to deal with on your own. But I’m going to help you out of this, okay? You have me to lean on whenever you need, and we are going to get rid of this creepy bastard.” 

 

“H-How?” She hiccoughs. 

 

He rubs her shoulder again reassuringly, “We’ll figure it out. Just don’t forget, you have me too.” 

 

“Thank you, [Name]-chan.” She wraps her arms around him in a hug. 

 

Just then, there’s a knock on the door. Fuka sniffs and pulls away as the door opens and Tanaka’s own body walks into the room, carrying all of his and Fuka’s belongings. “Hi.” You greet quietly. “I brought your stuff.” 

 

“Thanks.” Tanaka says as he takes the backpacks from you. Fuka quietly thanks you too, fiddling awkwardly with her fingers. And suddenly he realizes that she must be wondering why he of all people in the class decided to come here to visit her. 

 

“Oh, uhm uh… Fuka-chan. Tanaka here, is the one who… performed CPR on you when you fainted at school.” It feels weird for him to lie like that, as if he’s stealing your amazing deed for himself, painting a false picture of heroism. 

 

“Oh yeah, I remember.” She nods, “I woke up briefly and saw your face before I fell asleep again. Thank you, Tanaka-kun… for saving me.” 

 

“It’s not a problem. I’m glad you’re okay.” You smile at your friend with a forlorn look, likely wishing that you could do more for her right now. Tanaka suddenly feels more guilt weigh on him for taking a moment that should have been shared between you two, as best friends. He’s just an intruding third party who wasn’t ever meant to see or share these moments meant for someone else. 

 

Fuka fills you in on the medical update of it all, and you look intensely relieved, though it’s clear in your eyes that there’s still something bothering you. But he’ll wait to probe you about it. For now, he just sits with you and Fuka in this hospital room, talking about what they missed in school and other mundane things until her parents return to pick her up. 

 

He waits until you’ve all walked out of the hospital and waved goodbye to Fuka and her family from their disappearing car. “Shall we go for a walk?” 



*



“Where’d you learn how to do CPR like that anyway?” Tanaka asks you as the two of you make your way down the street towards a park. 

 

“I used to swim.” You shrug, pulling at the straps of your backpack just to have something to occupy your hands, “I swam with a team at the public pool since I was young, and even when I joined a swim club in middle school, I still volunteered there sometimes. You’re required to know basic lifeguard-type things if you work there.” 

 

“No kidding…” Tanaka says with wonder in his voice, and his eyes. Which is kind of a weird look on you, but admittedly kind of pretty, if you do say so yourself. “You were so calm and you acted so fast. It was really something amazing…” 

 

“It’s whatever. What’s important is that Fuka was alright.” You breathe a deep sigh, “In all honesty, I have never been so scared in my life… I can’t believe I almost could’ve lost my best friend today.” 

 

It really was the worst of situations. On top of her anxiety attack, her asthma acted up at exactly the worst time and sealed her off from survival. It was like her body was working against her. And when Tanaka relays all the details about Fuka’s creepy stalker, you can feel your heart fall from your chest and light on fire. You did your best to let Tanaka finish explaining everything first, but you can’t help taking your anger out on a stray pinecone lying on the walking path of the park. 

 

To your surprise, it actually hits a nearby tree and breaks apart after smashing into the trunk. “Ugh! I cannot believe this! Who the fuck is this bastard? I’m going to find him, and I’m going to turn that fucker in.” 

 

“I actually talked to Fuka a little about that while you were in the bathroom. She said that she had tried to anonymously report him before, but since he hadn’t actually done anything to harm her, and she doesn’t have evidence for it, they can’t actually do anything about it.” 

 

“Are you serious right now?!” You shout, “Augh!”

 

After you throw yourself onto a bench, in frustration, Tanaka joins you. “It freaking sucks, I know. And Fuka-chan said that the bastard is actually kind of powerful in stocks or something, so he could probably avoid incarceration with the right money.” 

 

“This is such bullshit! She fainted, for god’s sake! Shouldn’t he be considered a threat to her well-being? Given a restraining order??” 

 

The two of you go back and forth about the situation, researching on your phones along the way, but finding no viable way to keep the man away from Fuka without hard evidence that he had done something other than follow her around and scare her like a fucking creep. In fact, the both of you just end up even more frustrated as the hour passes. 

 

You’re slouching against the bench with your head lying on the back board, “Maybe I should approach him myself.” You sigh. 

 

“What?!” Tanaka screeches. Ouch, your voice is annoying at that volume. 

 

“I mean, maybe if I pose the right way, I could scare him off in your body, you know?” You raise your head and turn to face him, hunching forward and giving him your meanest glare. “ ‘You stay the hell away from Fuka, you jerkass.’ ” You try to deepen your voice to the lowest octave. 

 

Tanaka stares back at you, blinking until he jerks his head away in a snort, “Hahaha! Oh no, that is not it.” 

 

“What? Are you not intimidated??” You readjust your pose to cross your arms across your chest instead, huffing with your chest puffed out. 

 

Now he’s shaking. He tries his best to stifle his laughter into a hand, but he just shakes his head again, “[Surname], intimidation isn’t in the face. It’s gotta come from the heart.” He slams a fist into his chest, but jolts from the impact, “Ow… I forgot that these things are kind of sensitive…” 

 

“What, are you saying I’m not convincing enough?” You retort. 

 

“Well,” Tanaka leans an arm against the back of the bench, sucking in a breath, “You have the face down, but I don’t really think you should approach a grown man either way. Regardless of how you look, even in my body, a young girl shouldn’t be starting fights like that. It’s dangerous.” 

 

“So what? You expect me to sit here and do nothing?! Fuka-chan is the one in danger. I’m supposed to be there for her! There’s only so much I can do outside of my own body. What use would I be if I can’t help my best friend?” You demand. 

 

Tanaka presses his lips together with a helpless look in his eyes. A look that you really don’t want to see right now, because the guilt is going to bring you back to your senses. This anger, frustration, and desperation you feel from not being able to give your friend proper support when she needs it the most. And now you’re taking it out on Tanaka, who’s only been trying to help you. 

 

You slump back against the bench with a defeated sigh, “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to… blame you or yell at you or anything… I’m just… This is just so crazy!” 

 

There’s no other way to put it. On top of the body switching, this entire ordeal feels like something out of a movie or cheesy anime. Shouldn’t this kind of story be filled with silly antics and simple adolescent things like puberty and embarrassment instead of fear and despair over your closest friend? The absolute worst part of it all is that Tanaka had to get dragged into this too… 

 

But at the same time, if it wasn’t for him, maybe he wouldn’t have noticed something off about Fuka in the first place. According to the story he relayed to you, this guy has been following her for a good while now, and you hadn’t noticed anything strange about her at all these past few weeks, even when you had been hanging around her as yourself every day. Maybe this was destined to be… Maybe you and Tanaka had switched bodies for a reason, and that reason was to give Fuka the help she really needed… From someone else… 

 

After you groan again, Tanaka puts a hand on your shoulder to get your attention again, “Hey, it’s gonna be okay. I know it’s all up in the air right now, but… I can at least promise you this: I’m going to help out in any way I can. For as long as I can.” 

 

It’s your turn to blink at him. There is nothing but determination gleaming in his eyes, and you’ve never, ever seen yourself with such conviction. It’s like looking at the version of you that you should be; resolute, strong, confident. The kind of charisma you had learned others expected of Tanaka. The kind of tenacity that you should learn from him. 

 

You’re in complete awe, that he would be willing to go to such lengths to help your friend. And yet, you’re not really surprised. Because he’s been fond of Fuka from the beginning. He’s been looking out for her all this time, it’d be a wonder if he didn’t fall for her by now. And he’s an amazing guy, despite his gruff first impressions. He’d probably be able to protect her and give her the care that she deserves. 

 

You hate yourself for feeling jealous right now. Fuka was just in the hospital and you’re here letting this ugly feeling build inside of you because of what? Your newfound admiration of Tanaka? This is absolutely not the time for any of this, and you need to get your head on right. And back into your own body, first and foremost. 

 

Clearing your throat, you nod in gratitude, “Thank you, Tanaka. I… I’m really grateful to you for doing all of this for Fuka-chan.” 

 

“Right…” He leans back this time, but you try not to read too much into it, “For Fuka-chan.” 



***



Fuka actually takes the day off from school today, so you and Tanaka are free to return to the shrine together without having to worry too much about her. You had already informed Sawamura and a couple other second-years in the volleyball club that you wouldn’t be able to make it to practice today, so you meet him around the corner of the school after classes let out for the weekend. “Got your charm?” You hold your black omamori up. 

 

“Yeah, right here.” He pulls it out of the pocket of his skirt before falling in step beside you. 

 

“Alright, fingers crossed.” You breathe in deeply as you both head to the bus stop together like you had the last time. 

 

On the way to the shrine, you make small talk about class and what’s happened at home since you last saw each other, and of course, Fuka. “Is she doing okay at home today?” Tanaka asks. 

 

You had been messaging her last night on your phone and her parents had told her to take it easy for the weekend. She at least feels somewhat safe inside of her home since that guy can’t come in. But what had been lingering on your mind most of last night was how she had asked about Tanaka. 

 

Fuka-chan [22:21]: did you mention anything to tanaka-kun yesterday when you went home?

 

Me [22:24]: about what u told me? Of course not

Me [22:24]: he was worried for you though

 

Fuka-chan [22:24]: i’m kind of nervous to see him again on monday… 

Fuka-chan [22:25]: i know i shouldn’t be dwelling on this after all that’s happened but…

 

Me [22:25]: but…? 

 

Fuka-chan [22:25]: i know it was cpr but… didn’t he kind of take my first kiss? 



It wasn’t the conversation itself that made you feel weird, because quite honestly, it wasn’t Tanaka who had given her CPR. In a way, you had been the one to take her first kiss, if she really considers it to be that… It was what she said after that had you out of sorts for the rest of the night. 



Fuka-chan [22:26]: but tbh… it’s weird but when i saw him looking at me when i woke up briefly… i had this weird thought… 

Fuka-chan [22:26]: that maybe tanaka-kun isn’t too bad…  



You didn’t know how to respond, so you just sent back some emojis and left it at that. Would it be weird if you kept it from Tanaka? Not that you’re trying to sabotage anything, but it was still a private conversation between you two. And it’s not like Fuka had said anything declarative… 

 

Still, you would feel weird if you omitted it altogether, so you settle for a tweaked version of the truth, “She mentioned you, actually. About how thankful she was that you helped her out.” 

 

“That wasn’t me though. Not really.” Tanaka states without missing a beat. 

 

“Well, obviously I can’t tell her who it really was. She might think it’s me who needs to be in the hospital this time.” 

 

“It would be hard to explain, but she shouldn’t dwell too much on it.” Tanaka insists, “It wasn’t me who saved her. That fact won’t change, even if it was my body that did.” 

 

How valiant of him, not taking credit for saving Fuka and riding the wave of fame after the event. It had spread around the school like an angry wildfire, and you had been accepting commendations all day. People from outside of your own class were coming up to tell you that they heard about how you saved Fuka in the middle of PE class, though some of their versions of the story were a bit embellished. 

 

Even yesterday when you had returned to volleyball practice after your talk in the park with Tanaka, all of the club members had showered you with praise and proclamations to dedicate their own lives to you. Nishinoya had been louder than usual, which was saying something. Even your horridly missed spikes couldn’t bring down the lively atmosphere. 

 

“I’m sure it’ll all die down,” You shrug after you both alight the bus, “But first things first. Let’s find that shrine maiden.” 

 

Tanaka nods with a glint of determination in his eyes that you’re sure matches yours. The two of you climb the stairs and make a beeline for the omamori booth, searching for the right maiden like it’s a race. You find her immediately, because she’s sitting in the same spot she was before when she was weaving together the charm that she ended up giving to Tanaka last time. 

 

Sauntering right up towards her with Tanaka in tow, you call for her attention, “Excuse me, miko-san. Yes, hello, we have a question for you about this omamori we bought from this shrine last time.” You had over the woven black charm. 

 

Her eyes flit curiously between you and Tanaka before looking down at the charm in your hand, “Ah~! ‘Spiritual discovery,’ yes I remember these ones.” She smiles kindly up at you again, “You two were drawn to the exact same charm! It was like a strike of fate that I was preparing the second one at the time.” 

 

“A ‘strike of fate’....” Tanaka chuckles awkwardly beside you. 

 

“It seems you two have gotten closer since you returned here together.” She smiles. 

 

“Oh, we have.” You can’t help the sarcasm, you just can’t. “That’s the very problem. We’re not sure how, but… we’re no longer ourselves. Our… spirits, have... exchanged homes, and we’ve been residing in each other’s bodies.”

 

You can’t tell if she believes you or not, so you kind of just wait for her to answer with something. Anything. 

 

“We didn’t have anything really connecting us to each other before we bought the same omamori, so we guessed that it might have had something to do with this.” Tanaka adds in. 

 

She’s still staring at you like she doesn’t know what the hell is going on, “...I’m sorry?” 

 

“Look,” you sigh, “I know it’s hard to believe, but I am [Surname] [Name], residing in Tanaka Ryunosuke’s body right now. This,” you put your hands on Tanaka’s shoulder, “is my body. And my friend, Tanaka here, is inside of it. We know that it sounds all of impossible, but we wouldn’t be coming back to you asking for help if we didn’t desperately need it.”

 

“Uhm…” She considers you both for a moment, clearly unsure about the situation. Your hope for a good turnout is diminishing by the second. Until the shrine maiden stands from her seat, “I’m not quite sure what to believe, but why don’t you follow me?” 

 

You and Tanaka exchange a nervous breath before following the maiden into an empty room in one wing of the shrine, probably the haiden for ceremonies and worship. After asking you to wait, she disappears briefly and returns with who you assume is one of the priests of this shrine. You both bow in greeting as the shrine maiden introduces you and Tanaka and warily explains your predicament. 

 

“Why don’t you two have a seat here with me?” The kannushi priest kneels down and sits on his calves in front of the sanctuary. You and Tanaka mirror his sitting position, anxious anticipation plastered on your faces. He considers both of you for a few moments before gesturing at Tanaka, “Please tell me your name.” 

 

“My real name?” Tanaka asks. 

 

“Yes, if you would please.” 

 

“My name is Tanaka Ryunosuke.” 

 

The priest considers him for another moment before nodding and facing you next, “And your name?” 

 

You give him your name in the same exact format as Tanaka’s, wondering if he has some sort of spiritual radar that can detect that something is off about your auras. But all he does is nod again, “And may I ask once more about what brings you here today?” 

 

You and Tanaka exchange glances before you take the lead again and explain what you had told the shrine maiden earlier, taking out your charms and placing them in front of you. The priest listens patiently to your story that really begins to sound more ridiculous out loud by the minute, and he picks up both your omamori to inspect them. 

 

After you’ve concluded your monologue, the priest leaves you all in silence as he looks at the omamori. You’re starting to wonder if he’s deciding whether or not to kick you out for attempting to pull a fast one on him, but Tanaka pipes up, “Is there anything that we can do to return to our own bodies? It’s impossible to continue living each other’s lives and lying to everyone around us. Please, we just need some guidance.” 

 

“Or an exorcism. Whatever works.” You throw in, figuring it’s worth a shot. 

 

The priest looks between you and Tanaka and the shrine maiden and the charms a few more times before setting them back down on the floor, “Well, you’ve certainly come here with an unconventional story for us. I cannot gauge what is true or not,” — Oh, great— “But I do sense that there is some confused spiritual energy between you two, whatever that may be.

 

“And this right here,” he taps at the omamori at his knees, “is probably your greatest clue towards what your next step can be. This ‘spiritual discovery’ can be interpreted in a myriad of ways. If what you say is true about your spiritual exchange, then it seems that there’s something that’s keeping you two connected in order to learn something new; whether that is about discovering something about yourselves or each other.” 

 

This is getting harder for you to wrap your head around. “So, if we were to ‘discover’ what we needed to discover, so to speak, would we finally be able to switch back?” 

 

“I cannot promise you answers. Everyone’s spiritual journey is different, though it’s clear that there seems to be a connection between both of yours. Perhaps if you spend more time together, the answer may eventually come to you.” 

 

You sigh deeply. This is not what you were hoping to hear. There is no clear solution as to what you and Tanaka are supposed to do next. What, are you supposed to just keep asking each other questions until you ‘discover’ something so riveting that your bodies shake each other back into place? 

 

“I’m sorry but,” Tanaka speaks up, “In the case that… perhaps we’re not able to find that answer, how long do you think this… exchange will last?” 

 

Now that gets your heart pumping. You’re almost too nervous to hear the answer. 

 

“Again, it’s hard to predict with something like this.” The priest lowers his head to stare at the omamori again, “If it’s not something that will take care of itself, perhaps the effect will last as long as this amulet was intended to remain in effect. Traditionally, the same omamori is used for about a year or so.”

 

You feel numb. Numb to the point that you can barely remember thanking the priest and the shrine maiden and leaving the shrine. Even when you’re seated on the bus, you’re in a daze. Tanaka isn’t much better off, but at least he tries to comfort you by keeping you grounded to the physical world with a hand on yours. You exchange a look — a silent understanding between the two of you that no one else could ever comprehend. 



*



The weekend passes by in a flurry books, snacks, and study dates. Tanaka spent most of his weekend over at Fuka’s house and preparing for the upcoming exams during the week. After what felt like a hopeless visit to the shrine, where he and you had left without any viable solutions for the future, Tanaka decided he’d have to take it a day at a time. And for now, he’ll focus on maintaining his facade as you through exams, at the very least. 

 

Fuka has been doing well, much to his relief. She moves about with the same energy and happy expression as usual, and she’s especially giddy that he’s able to hang out with her all weekend. Not a week ago, Tanaka would have felt the same excitement to be spending time with a cute girl in her bedroom, but lots of things have changed. His concern overpowers his usual joy to be in Fuka’s presence; concern over the switch, concern over continuing to live convincingly as you, concern over Fuka and her stalker, and most especially… concern about you. 

 

You already seemed so torn up about being unable to be at Fuka’s side, even blaming yourself for not preventing the situation (which is totally incomprehensible, it is absolutely not your fault), and the visit to the shrine just seemed to bring your spirits down even more. Tanaka wanted nothing more than to give you the comforting hug he had given Fuka while in the hospital. 

 

He knew, however, that it wouldn’t be the same, because the meaning and intention behind the gesture would not have been the same for you as it was for Fuka. He can’t exactly pinpoint what it was, but he knows that it would have been different. More than just comfort. It wouldn’t have felt right, using a vulnerable moment like that for himself, so he had settled for holding your hand. 

 

It’s funny though, the number of times Fuka brings up ‘Tanaka-kun’ in conversation. They would be talking about anything from schoolwork, to online memes, to dessert, and someone Fuka would manage to bring him up. Or who she thinks he is. 

 

When Tanaka had confronted her and asked why she kept bringing him up, she suddenly got fidgety and a little pink in the face. In the past, he would have internally screamed at how incredibly cute that was. “I just… really want to thank him properly. I mean… he basically saved my life, you know? That’s not a small ordeal… And I just, I can’t get him out of my head…” 

 

Tanaka had to wrack his brain in so many directions to come up with a response. It was just so difficult to come up with something because no matter what he says, ‘Tanaka-kun’ is not the one who saved her! ‘Tanaka-kun’ doesn’t even have that knowledge or experience to begin with.

 

However, it’s taking away all of Fuka’s focus, so he figures that if she really wants to thank her savior, then she should. Her real one, at least. “He has volleyball club practice today. Do you want to go see him?” 

 

“W-What??” She sputters, “Right now?!” 

 

“Well, you’re clearly going to keep bringing him up if you don’t thank him properly, as you say, so yeah, right now. Let’s go.” He announces, standing from the floor where he was slouching over the table of open books and scattered notes. Not like he actually felt like studying anyway. 

 

So they end up at school on a Sunday afternoon, outside of the gymnasium where Fuka is mentally preparing herself to step inside a room full of loud, sweaty boys hitting volleyballs all over the place (hopefully within court lines though). “Come on, Fuka-chan, it’s not a big deal. We’re just gonna go in quickly and we can be out before you know it.” 

 

“I know, but! I don’t know. I’m just so nervous. I’ve never really talked to him before…” She plays with the hem of her shirt. She had actually spent quite a bit of time deciding what to wear for this excursion, and Tanaka doesn’t really know what to make of that. He was hoping she wouldn’t make it into such a big deal.

 

“Oh? Hello.” A calming, beautifully familiar voice melts into his ear and Tanaka looks up to meet eyes with the only woman who could ever make his heart stop and reignite on its own with a look. “Can I help you?” 

 

“Kiyoko-san! You’re as beautiful as ev—” He stops short, realizing his voice isn’t nearly as manly as it usually is when he declares his love for Kiyoko-san, and he berates himself for making the situation look weird for you, “I mean!!! No, I’m so sorry.” He bows profusely and repeatedly, to the point of dizzying himself, “I didn’t mean to address you so casually! I’ve uh… I’ve heard so much about you! The most gorgeous, elegant, amazing volleyball manager to ever walk the planet…” 

 

He loses himself. He has completely lost it. Shimizu Kiyoko has always had that effect on him, and now he could very well have outed you because he couldn’t take the sudden whammy of being in her presence again after such a long period of time. It suddenly feels like it’s been years. 

 

“[Surname]?” 

 

Alas! A savior! 

 

You appear at the door with a towel around your neck and a water bottle in your hand behind Kiyoko. “Oh, it is you. Kiyoko, they’re my classmates. I’ll be out for a minute to talk to them.” 

 

If Tanaka wasn’t so dumbfounded with how casually and calmly you talk to Kiyoko, he would’ve noted how Fuka reacted to your appearance with a nervous squeak. 

 

“Alright, don’t be too long.” Kiyoko replies as she takes the tray of water bottles out to refill. 

 

And now, he’s absolutely floored. Kiyoko had responded to you?? Casually??? Instead of ignoring you??????????????????? It’s like watching a miracle at work. Tanaka doesn’t know if he can bounce back from this. 

 

You, however, seem to be on top of everything as you let the captain know you’ll be stepping out for a minute to talk to a classmate who’s stopped by and meeting you and Fuka outside. “Hey, how’s it going?” You smile at them. 

 

“H-Hello.” Fuka stutters, fingers clenched into fists now. 

 

“Hello, Fuka-chan. [Surname].” You nod at him, “What brings you guys here on a Sunday?” 

 

Tanaka manages to shake himself out of his reverie to answer you, “So! Uhm, sorry to bother you at practice today. But uh… Fuka-chan said that there was something she wanted to tell you… so…” He opens the floor for Fuka to speak with a dramatic hand gesture. 

 

“Uhm—! I uh… Uhm.” Fuka sputters, “Hello. I just… wanted to…” Sucking in a deep breath, she bows down ninety degrees and says, “Thank you so very much for helping me the other day during class. You saved my life, and I can’t even begin to tell you how grateful I am.” 

 

You look down at Fuka’s bowing form with a curious, but calm look. Something Tanaka would never have been able to pull off if a cute girl came up showing her respect for him. It makes him look cooler for sure, but will his friends suspect anything from him? He never realized how spastic he could be until he was watching someone else try to be him. 

 

“Uhm… it’s fine. You can raise your head. I—“

 

“RYUUUUUUUUU!!!!!” 

 

A small, loud ball of energy that Tanaka is proud to call one of his best friends but suddenly wishes had a bit more tact with his timing appears at the door, with an expression of complete awe and admiration. Noya turns his head between him and Fuka back to you and shouts, “Ryu! Is this the girl that you saved the other day?!” 

 

“Wow, you’ve suddenly got girls bowing to you, Tanaka? Maybe this change in your volleyball skill set was traded in for this.” Suga appears behind Nishinoya, watching with an innocent smile on his face. Et tu, Suga-san??

 

“You’ve really become a true hero, saving maidens in need!” Noya adds with a touched gaze.

 

You just sigh at the boys and turn back to Fuka, “Thanks for coming here to tell me that. I did what anyone would have done.” You answer, at least managing to look awkward. 

 

“Yes, maybe they would have.” Fuka says as she stands up straight again, “But you were the one who did it. And if you hadn’t, I might not be standing here today. It’s a debt I may never be able to repay.” 

 

“Don’t think of it as a debt. It was just a good deed. I don’t expect anything in return, and I hope that you have a full recovery.” You say. There’s a beat of silence where no one says anything, so you start again, “Uhm, well, if that’s all, then—“

 

“No!” Fuka interrupts, much to your, the team, and Tanaka’s surprise. “I uhm… well, I’d like to, to properly thank you.” Fuka fidgets with her shirt and takes another breath before raising her head again to ask, “Would you like to join us for dessert sometime? At our favorite cafe?”

 

“Uh—“

 

“Uhm—“

 

“Ehhh~”

 

“RYU!!!!!” 

 

“Please allow me to treat you as a thank you. [Name]-chan can join us, so it doesn’t feel too strange, right [Name]-chan?” She begs Tanaka with her eyes.

 

“Uhm, sure.” He says.

 

“Okay then.” You answer. 

 

“Okay! Uhm, great! W-When are you free?” 

 

“Right now!” Suga pipes up from the door, ignoring all the baffled cries and shouts from his teammates, “We were actually going to start cleaning up, but Tanaka can join you for today.” 

 

“What? But Suga-san, I—” You turn to the vice captain with a rather fitting worried look. 

 

“Can thank me later for letting you skip out of cleanup today. You go enjoy your dessert.” He waves you off and Tanaka himself is dumbfounded and touched that his teammates would have his back like this. They really support him in his endeavors in trying to live a fruitful youth… If it was actually him, that is. 

 

There’s a whole lot of back and forth with you insisting you shouldn’t shirk on your responsibilities, and the team downright kicking you out of the gym with urgent hissing, but you’re eventually walking with Tanaka and Fuka out of school to go to Amour Laiteux.

 

He can hear the shouts and cheers from the gym as the three of you leave campus, and if it were any other scenario, he’d have loved to be in the middle of that celebration with his friends. But his main concern is that you’ll have to go through the motions for him when you probably don’t share the same sentiment of excitement as his teammates. 




*



Is this a date? 

 

After all the hype and encouragement from the volleyball club, you can’t help but feel pumped to be going to a dessert cafe with your best friend. You’ve done it countless times before, but maybe it’s because it feels like it’s been a long while since you last stepped into a cafe. It’s only been about a week or so, but it’s already become hard to remember a time when you were carefree enough to just eat sweets almost every day after school. A time when you didn’t have to train your body, or perfect your volleyball skills, or contribute to a team, or focus on pretending you’re someone else. 

 

Even though you’ll be back in a familiar setting, you still won’t be able to be yourself completely. Not under this guise or pretense. Which is one of the many reasons you’re glad that Tanaka will also be accompanying you. Maybe you won’t feel completely out of place with him there. 

 

However, even with it being the three of you, you can’t write it off as not a date. Or at least, a gathering without romantic intentions. You’re fairly sure Fuka is starting to catch some feelings for Tanaka (or you acting as Tanaka), because she wouldn’t have shown up just to thank you otherwise. Not to mention she’s nervous, but in a different way than she was around Tanaka before. She has a sense of conviction about her now, like she came with a purpose and she’s determined to fulfill it. She spoke rather confidently to you earlier, which is more than the helpless stuttering she managed when the actual Tanaka tried to talk to her. 

 

And of course, there was the thing with the “kiss.” She only mentioned it once through text, but knowing Fuka, she’s probably been dwelling on it ever since. And you wanted to ignore or deny it, but that blush on her face was one of nervous excitement. She may not know it yet, but she has a crush. 

 

If only it weren’t so complicated. You know that it’s not really Tanaka that she’s developing feelings for, but you don’t have it in you to reject her on his behalf. Besides, who’s to say that Tanaka isn’t interested in Fuka? She’s cute and sweet and full of life, totally Tanaka’s type from what you’ve gleaned in conversation with the boys. And who knows? If you manage to switch back to your own bodies, maybe Fuka might start to genuinely like Tanaka for him. 

 

The thought of Fuka and Tanaka together sends a pang through your heart, and an ugly tug of dislike at the idea, which you feel immediately guilty for. Who does that? Cringes at the picture of your best friend and someone who’s grown important to you being happy? This may not be the best setup, but you don’t want to stall anyone’s potential for happiness, especially not your best friend’s. 

 

Which is why you do your best not to make Tanaka look bad when conversing with her on the way to and at the cafe. You don’t amp up the natural gruffness of his voice like you do around the team, and you keep the answers to personal questions vague as not to make any false statements that Tanaka himself wouldn’t make, but honestly, Fuka looks like she’s too nervous to really pay attention to them anyway. 

 

Until Fuka catches an opportunity to change the topic into the most uncomfortable one that could possibly be put on the table, “So I didn’t know you guys were so close before. How do you know each other again, exactly?” 

 

You look to Tanaka first, wondering if he wants to take this one, but when he starts sputtering and sounding weird and suspicious, you take over instead, “Our moms. They’re friends from… the supermarket or something, I honestly don’t know how. But whenever they want to send a casual invitation to each other, they seem to think the best way to do it is to ask through us instead of making a phone call or something.” 

 

Believe enough, right? You look at Tanaka for approval and he nods a little too eagerly, “Right! And it happened often enough that Tanaka and I just talk kind of regularly now.” 

 

There we go. You nod to Tanaka before taking a bite of the parfait Fuka had ordered for you. Originally, you had planned to just get a smoothie or something, but she had insisted on getting this because it was one of the best items on the menu and it was seasonal, so you gave in. And you have to say, eating a sweet treat after over a week of working your ass off in the gym and on the court, this tastes freaking amazing

 

“Wow, this is so good. I can’t believe I’ve been missing out on this.” The cafe only started this new menu item recently, as in after your body switch with Tanaka. 

 

“If you like, we can come again! I’m always checking out their new seasonal menu items!” Fuka offers excitedly before catching herself and pulling back, “A-Ah! I-I mean, only if you want to, that is. I know you must be busy, what with volleyball practice and all that.” 

 

You look at Tanaka for that one, trying to get a telepathic signal as for whether or not to accept Fuka’s invitation. When he only answers with a blank look as if he’s not the one who will be coming again to another cafe outing, you decide to just accept for him, “That sounds fun. Thanks.” 

 

“Sure!” Fuka squeaks a little too quickly. You have to admit, seeing her flustered like this over a boy — even though it’s really you — is kind of cute. Any boy who would be able to resist her cute flushed face is probably blind or incapable of proper human emotion. 

 

In fact, when Fuka begins babbling about a French dessert-making technique that Tanaka asks about from reading the cafe menu catalogue, her eyes light up and she suddenly sounds like she’s alive again; a complete reversal of the scared, tense, solemn version of her you’ve only been able to see for a while. You’re so touched at seeing your friend’s joyous enthusiasm and energy again that you end up chuckling and letting out a soft, “Cute.” while you listen. 

 

That may have been a mistake, because even though it was an offhand slip of the tongue, she and Tanaka heard it. And now Fuka’s face is going watermelon-pink, “S-Sorry?” She asks. 

 

Tanaka’s face is looking a little pink too, for whatever reason. But turning back to Fuka, you figure you should probably give her an answer so she won’t be tossing around in bed later wondering what you were thinking, “Hm? Nothing, I just thought that it was great to see you smiling again, Fuka-chan.” 

 

“O-Oh! T-Thank you.” She shyly digs around into her own dessert as she waits for the heat to die down in her face. 

 

You try not to set off any more bombs for the rest of the dessert, and for the walk home, but Fuka seems to be hyper-aware of everything you do and say now, so it seems fruitless to try so hard. You know that girl, she’s going to overthink everything in her head later anyway. Even if you’re just walking beside her with your hands in your pockets, two feet away. 

 

The three of you are just down a couple blocks from Fuka’s house when Tanaka suddenly announces, “Ah! I forgot! I need to get something at the convenience store!” 

 

“What? What is it? We already bought a bunch of snacks and stuff before studying today.” Fuka says. 

 

“Yeah, but I just realized I need to check for something. A… A special-edition manga is coming out this month and I need to see if they have it yet. And I need to pick up something else anyway.” Tanaka insists. 

 

“But—” 

 

“I’ll be as quick as possible, but Tanaka-kun, can you take Fuka-chan back home first and I’ll come back later?” He looks at you with innocent, yet begging eyes. 

 

Wow, okay. So maybe he does want you to help get into good favor with your best friend. That hurts a little more than you expected it to, but what are you gonna do? Deny him after he’s helped you? If Tanaka wants to get closer to Fuka via you so he can be in her good graces later, then fine. You’ll do what you can. 

 

“Yeah, sure.” You nod. 

 

“Thanks! See you in a bit!” He takes off back in the direction you came, leaving you alone with an even more flustered Fuka. 

 

While she’s getting back to that watermelon shade, you clear your throat and jut your chin forward, “Shall we?” 



*



Tanaka saw him. He saw the bastard. And before he could even think about Fuka in tears again, he had left the girls to charge back to where he caught sight of the stalker. 

 

This is probably a bad idea. Usually, Tanaka is full of bad ideas, but this one is probably going to be especially bad, because he can already feel himself sweating over the angry whipping he’s going to get from you later. He knows in every neuron of his brain that seeking out a fight with a creepy stalker is the last thing he should be doing in this body, yet somehow, it still moved before his brain could catch up. 

 

“Oi.” 

 

And there’s no turning back now anyway. 

 

The fucker has the nerve to freeze up and act like he didn’t hear him. 

 

“Hey, dirty creep hiding behind the news stand, I’m talking to you.” He calls out again, in an intentionally more menacing tone, but it just really come out angry in your female voice. 

 

Nevertheless, the creepazoid responds, “What is it?” He clears his throat. 

 

“You got a lotta chops for a jerk who just sent my friend into the hospital, don’tcha?” He’s letting his menacing slur come out with all the anger that’s flaring out now that he’s face to face with this bastard again. 

 

“Young lady, I have no idea what you’re talking about, but I did not put anyone into the hospital.”

 

“Cut the crap, I know you’ve been stalking Fuka-chan for the past several weeks. I’m giving you this one and only warning to back off before you regret it forever.” He snarls at the asshole, who’s still holding his ground somehow. 

 

And now, he’s brought up the nerve to sigh at him?? Why he oughta— 

 

“Listen young lady,” Did he really just put a hand on Tanaka’s shoulder like he wouldn’t have the nerve to bite it right the fuck off? “You don’t know anything that’s happening between me and Fuka-chi, alright? Leave us be, she’s going to come around.” 

 

“The fuck is going on in your twisted ass head?” Tanaka smacks the pervert’s hand away like it’s a mosquito, feeling sorry that he let the dirtbag’s hands on your body. ‘Fuka-chi’ ? Disgusted shivers are running down his spine. “I’m not kidding, stay away from my friend, or you’re really going to be sorry.” 

 

Tanaka walks off, fuming at the thought of the fucker’s disgusting face and what scum he is when the dipshit opens his mouth again to call after him, “Fuka-chi might be confused right now, but she’s going to come around. And when she does, I’ll be waiting for her whenever she needs!”

 

And that’s what does it. 

 

That’s what sends Tanaka over the edge and his fist hurling into the dumbfuck’s face. And his knee to his stomach. And his foot to his shin. And a bunch of other hits until the disgusting fuck of a stalker is curled into himself like an armadillo, barely able to stand on his feet. 

 

Contrary to popular belief, Tanaka does not actually know how to fight that well. However, looking the way he does while growing up, it was impossible for some people not to misunderstand his face and try to start fights every so often. So despite how he was a pretty decent kid, he still had to learn to hold his own and at least throw a few punches. Action anime and sports manga could be surprisingly informative. And indirectly, so could bullies. 

 

Over time though, his face only grew more menacing, and he built up the intimidating personality to match, so often times when he gave out a threat and walked away, people would usually back down. However, he had forgotten that in your body, people were less likely to take you as seriously, or to believe that a young high school girl would actually throw a punch. 

 

Well the fucker who decided to underestimate him just because he’s in an adolescent female body is the one who buckled over in pain right now, already regretting what he said. But he sure is listening to what Tanaka has to say now, “You call yourself a man when you make a girl feel unsafe? What kind of jackass gets off on following a girl until she’s too afraid to be outside?”

 

The shithead just groans, which is better than anything Tanaka has heard him say so far. With a last bone-cracking grind to the jerk’s foot — and a strained scream from said jerkhole — Tanaka hisses out one last warning, “Swear to me that you’ll never come near my friend ever again.” When the man hesitates, Tanaka grinds harder, “Swear it!” 

 

“Fine! Fine! I swear!” 

 

“You swear what?!” 

 

“I swear I won’t come near Fuka-chi again.” 

 

“You’d better mean it.” Tanaka pulls his foot away and steps away for real this time, taking a good, long look at the sack of rat shit he just put down to the ground, and holds up his phone, “And if you need me to convince you further, I’m happy to ask the police what they think of this recording I took of your statement. And the pictures of you standing like a creep by Fuka-chan’s property.” Thank you to all the mystery and crime manga and movies he’s consumed. Like he said — they could be informative. 

 

“Get lost, trash.” 



*



“You did what ?!” 

 

Now, if anyone passing by saw a tall, gruff young man holding a small high school girl off the ground by the collar of her shirt and yelling in her face, surely they would try to intervene. Good thing Tanaka chose a secluded alley a few streets away from Fuka’s house to tell you that he just mauled a possibly dangerous stalker using your borrowed small teenage girl fists. 

 

“I know, I know! I’m sorry for endangering your body like this and for the small knuckle bruises! I swear I’ll do my best to heal on your behalf and not leave any scarring!” He’s got his eyes clenched tight and facing the side as if anticipating a punishing smack. 

 

“Tanaka, it’s not that.” You drop him back to the ground, sighing as you cross your arms, “I know you did that to protect Fuka-chan, but think about how dangerous that was! You’re not a tall, menacing, yankii-looking athlete right now. If that stalker guy wasn’t as spineless as he is, think about what he could’ve done to you. Then you’d really understand what’s so scary about being a girl.” 

 

“You’re right, you’re totally right, about all of that.” Tanaka holds his hands up in surrender, but his eyes say that there’s something else on his mind, so you let him finish, “But even though all of that is true, I couldn’t just ignore it. That bastard came back and he’s gonna keep trying something, even after all of this, so I had to teach him a lesson.” 

 

Ugh, that conviction in his eyes is really making this hard for you, because despite the danger of it all, he still rushed in and did what he felt was right. And since he was willing to accept the repercussions of using your body to go after the guy, it doesn’t seem like he has any regrets. 

 

“Grrghh!!” You throw your hands in the air, turning to pace in a small circle, “I’m so mad at you but that was really fucking cool.” 

 

You ignore Tanaka’s surprised look and stuff your hands into your pockets as you’ve learned to do quite often when you’re hesitant to say something — boys have such deep pockets, it’s not fair. “And did he really actually promise to lay off? Like, permanently? That easily?” 

 

“I wasn’t going to start a fight and have it end in nothing! The whole point was to scare him off for good.” He argues. 

 

You groan again in frustration at both the situation and how you shouldn’t be as impressed by his act of valor as you are, “I can’t believe you just went in like that without thinking about it! No wonder you and Noya-san get along so well! I— ugh…” You stop to take a breath, “But… in the end, you did help Fuka-chan, so… thank you for that. As stupid as your method was.” 

 

“I swear I wouldn’t have done it if I didn’t think I’d come out on top!” He adds.

 

“I’m aware.” You roll your eyes, and take a thoughtful moment before giving in and putting a hand on Tanaka’s shoulder. (Wow, your shoulder is really small in his hand) “And I’m hoping he won’t be too much of a problem anymore, thanks to you. Though if I ever get my body back and I don’t manage to scare him off on my own, you’re gonna have to teach me a thing or two to fend us off.” 

 

“Girls shouldn’t have to fight off scumbags like that.” Tanaka says immediately, but when you narrow your eyes at him, he’s quick to follow up his statement, “But I’d be happy to help. And of course, if I’m nearby… you can just… ask me too.” 

 

“Right, thanks. Do you have a special whistle that I can blow that only you will hear from far away? Like a dog?” You joke as you lead him out of the alleyway to go home. 

 

“My hearing happens to be incredible, I’ll have you know.” He jokes back easily, following you down the street. “It’s like a sixth sense of mine.” 

 

“Hearing is already one of your five senses.”

 

“Don’t sweat the details! My point is, you can just call me or something, and I’ll come to you as soon as I can.” 

 

Why does that make your heart flip a little? Maybe it’s the way he said it, even in your own voice, it sounded pretty confident and protective and capable. 

 

“Sure, okay.” You snort, “I’ll send out code red if I ever sense any danger around me or Fuka-chan.” 

 

“‘Course!” He says loudly, matter-of-factly, “But of course, you know, you can still call me even if it’s not an emergency. I mean, we’re friends now, right?” 

 

Let’s not dwell on the throbbing disappointment you feel at that label and just answer his question, yeah? “Right. Of course. Though you probably know a lot more about me than many of my close friends do at this point.” 

 

“Yeah, right. I know all these things about your body, sure, because I’ve been using it for you for the past week. But all I know about you as a person is what I’ve gleaned from all the people who talk to you and how they expect you to behave. I don’t actually have a full grasp of the person displaced from this body.” 

 

“‘Displaced,’ huh? That’s not a word I expected to hear from you.” You observe out loud. 

 

“Excuse you, I can be articulate with my words!” He quips back. 

 

“Whoa! Another surprise bomb out of nowhere.” You laugh.

 

“You know what, I do know something about you: you’re pretenseless and laugh at people who don’t understand a few big words that no one uses; like that snob, Tsukishima.” He calls you out humorously. 

 

“You mean ‘pretentious’?” You laugh brightly. Just then, you notice a vending machine coming up, so you throw in a few coins and buy some drinks for you and Tanaka before walking towards the park that you two talked at last time, “But I get how you feel about Tsukishima. He’s always making fun of me during practice, probably because he expects a big reaction out of you. You know what he said the other day? Said your spike had the power of a little girl and that you were losing your touch.” 

 

“That little snot-nosed brat! I’m gonna—” 

 

You laugh at Tanaka’s expected big reaction and are impressed that he manages to detail his cursing of the tall, blonde first-year for up to three minutes. “I mean, he’s not wrong though. Even though it’s your body, I don’t necessarily know how to control all your strength, so your spikes have been coming from an inexperienced little girl as of late.” 

 

The two of you have chosen a bench to sit at and Tanaka just sighs as he twists open the soda bottle you got for him. “That’s to be expected. I’m sad I can’t be there playing volleyball every day, but I hope the team hasn’t been putting too much pressure on you to improve.” 

 

“They have. They think you’re in a slump.” You chuckle, taking your own sip of green tea, “Some of them have been very active in trying to help you out of it.” And you go on to explain Nishinoya and Hinata’s efforts to feed you strange protein bars, or update your workout routine, or uplift your mood in strange ways, or get Shimizu to talk to you, all in hopes that it’ll get you back on your feet. 

 

Rubbing at the back of his head with a groan — and effectively mussing up your hair — he apologizes for his teammates, “I swear they mean well.” 

 

“Don’t worry, I know they do.” You agree, “They’re probably just trying to hype me up for the practice match you have coming up in a few days…” 

 

“What?! Practice match?!” 

 

“Yeah… they told us yesterday that some school finally accepted Takeda-sensei’s constant invitations.” 

 

“Oh crap. Well… uh, assuming we’re still stuck in each other’s bodies, are you gonna be ready?” 

 

“Not at all,” you snort, “But you’ve been doing your best for me and Fuka-chan, so it’d be downright rude for me not to return the favor.” 

 

“Hey,” he turns on the bench to face you completely, “Honestly, you don’t have to worry about it. I know it’s been a lot, and I know you’re worried enough about not being able to help Fuka-chan directly. It’s just a practice match, you really don’t have to worry about it.” 

 

“That’s nice of you, Tanaka, but there are a lot of people counting on you. Not just the team, but the coaches too. Depending on the performance your body gives in front of everyone, you might not be a starter for the actual tournaments.” 

 

“That’s the standard for any team member, not just me. But I can’t expect you to build the skill of a starting member and win a match in a week, no matter what the team says.”

 

That was a very mature reassurance, and not at all what you expected. “Wow. Uhm, thanks. Didn’t know I needed that,” you chuckle softly, “I didn’t realize it, but the guys have been packing on the pressure. They expect a lot from you, probably because they completely trust you to get back on your feet.”

 

“Sounds like them.” He nods, “I would trust them too, no matter what. That’s just the kind of guys they are.” 

 

You notice Tanaka get a thoughtful look on his face, and you begin to wonder how he built such a strong relationship of trust with his friends and teammates. Even Tsukishima, who obviously still has some sort of expectation for Tanaka to improve even though you’ve been throwing off everyone’s groove for the past week.

 

“Volleyball is important to you, huh, Tanaka?” The thought is out of your mouth before you realize you asked it. And for some reason, you’ve got your upper arm propped up on the back of the bench to support your head as you give Tanaka your full attention. 

 

To your surprise, instead of bursting into loud, bold proclamations about how it’s more than just a club and that the sport is life, he breathes out a deep sigh, “Yeah, it is. It’s been a part of my life since I was a kid, of course it’s important to me. And before all this happened—” he gestures at the air around him, you get what he means “—It would probably have been the only priority I ever had.” 

 

“Sorry,” you shrug, not knowing why you’re apologizing but feeling the urge to do it anyway. 

 

“No, it’s not your fault. At least, I don’t think it is.” You both chuckle at that, “ As crazy as this has been, it’s also been… kind of cool.” 

 

The timid, almost guilty look on his face pulls a laugh out of you, “Yeah? How so?”

 

“I mean, when else will I ever be able to understand the female experience firsthand? I’ve learned a lot… Of course! N-Not anymore than I should, obviously. But you know, like— more than I normally would. Like you know—“

 

“I know, Tanaka.” You nod into your hand that’s still supporting your head, “Trust me, I will never take waking up without a random erection for granted ever again.” 

 

He laughs with you on that one, “And I’ll never take for granted how much effort girls put into their appearances again. Fuka-chan spent over an hour on my hair last night to get it to look like this today.”

 

“Huh, yeah, I was wondering about the curls. They look good though.” You shrug. 

 

“They look good?? [Surname], they look amazing. Don’t underestimate the power of the overnight curlers.” He retorts, sounding offended on Fuka’s behalf, which makes you laugh. They’re pretty in sync with their opinions. 

 

Tanaka looks like he’s taking a moment to think about what he’s going to say next. “You know, Fuka-chan says that you never let her style you up. Is there a reason for that?” 

 

“Are you trying to start a heart-to-heart with me about how I should be more confident in myself, Tanaka-kun?” You ask sardonically. 

 

“She also mentioned how you haven’t been as tsundere as usual.” He snorts.

 

You scoff, pressing your back against the bench once more and crossing your arms as you turn your gaze away from Tanaka, “Whatever.” 

 

He bursts into laughter, turning to sit forward on the bench again too, “It’s fine. You don’t have to tell me. But for the record, Fuka-chan seems to be pretty happy to be able to do all this girly stuff with you.” 

 

“That’s because Fuka-chan is the girly one, not me.” 

 

“Oh?”

 

You hesitate to continue, but decide to go for it before you lose the courage, “I already told you I used to be in a swim club and volunteered as a lifeguard, didn’t I?”

 

“Yeah. Fuka-chan brings it up sometimes too.” 

 

Of course he’d remember something if Fuka brought it up. Anyway. 

 

“Well I was in the water half of the time, there wasn’t a point in dolling myself up just to cover my head in a cap and wash  it all away once I got in the pool. And plus…” Actually, you kind of don’t want to say the next part.

 

“And plus…?” Tanaka leans in, listening attentively. 

 

“Plus…” You take a small breath; you need it, “It’s just never been my thing, okay? Pretty clothes and lots of accessories and makeup and all that, they’re better suited for cute girls like Fuka-chan anyway.”

 

“Oh come on, [Surname], you’re plenty cute. Trust me, I’ve been in your body long enough to know.” Tanaka insists.

 

“Oh yeah?” You challenge, pivoting in your seat to face him again, planting an arm on the backrest to lean in, “Tell me, out of all the people that you’ve interacted with in this past week, how many of them talked to you first instead of Fuka-chan?” 

 

He looks stumped, or like he knows the answer but doesn’t want to share. “Uhm… well, I uh… can’t really… remember.” 

 

He can’t even look at you. “Tanaka.” 

 

“Okay, I mean… I guess, if I had to round up… I suppose more people on average… spoke to Fuka-chan first.” He shrugs.

 

“Yeah? And out of all those people who talked to her this week, how many talked to you at all? Even offered you a greeting?” 

 

“Well all of them were just dudes with bad intentions!” He defends. 

 

“Uh huh, and let’s say, if we were to put Fuka-chan and me side by side, who would the average dude pick? No stakes, no rewards, just choose.” 

 

Now he’s blinking, probably realizing that you’re a piece of wallpaper next to your best friend. At least when it came to being noticed by boys.

 

“Well— who wants an average dude anyway? You deserve better than that!” Tanaka retorts. 

 

“Okay, sure.” You lean in and reach for a lock of curled hair, twirling it around your finger and wondering if you should continue talking. You can’t imagine anything good coming out of this conversation, but now that you’ve started, you can’t really stop. “But what if… one day, Fuka-chan and I happened to like the same boy? It’s not hard to imagine the choice he’d make.” 

 

There’s a blush spreading on him, and you just watch curiously at how your face looks with the color climbing up your neck and cheeks. You don’t know if he’s picking up on what you’re hinting at, but you can tell that the atmosphere has grown a little tense. So you guess you should try to remedy it before it gets too awkward. 

 

By completely brushing off the vulnerability you just showed him! 

 

“I mean, it’s just hypothetical — obviously. But still, I just… you know what, never mind! I should probably get going anyway.”

 

“Yeah… I uh…” The speed at which Tanaka stands up shouldn’t hurt you as much as it does, but alas. “I think I left something at Fuka-chan’s house too.” 

 

“Right. Why don’t you go, I’ll just talk to you later.” You stand too, clearing your already cleared throat again. 

 

“Yeah.” 

 

“Okay.” 

 

“Bye.”

 

“Bye.” 

 

Great , you think as you all but speed back to Tanaka’s house. All you did was hint at the possibility of you liking him and he was all too eager to escape. That is the last time you put your insecurities on display to a boy like that. Fuka can call you a tsundere all she wants. 



*



Tanaka’s balls are nowhere in sight when he returns to Fuka’s house to search for them, so he guesses they must’ve stayed with his body — yet another thing he’s found to be in your possession. 

 

He didn’t actually leave anything there, so Fuka’s surprise at his return is completely precedented. She’s incredibly happy to see him though, and ushers him back into her room immediately to gush about the day, since she didn’t get a chance to do it privately earlier. 

 

“Okay, so you were gone for a while, which totally freaked me out at first, but Tanaka-kun is surprisingly really easy to talk to!” 

 

“Oh yeah?” Tanaka chuckles awkwardly, listening quietly as Fuka goes on about how she brought out some tea and snacks and was able to have an entire conversation about them with you, and how funny you are, and just overall squealing about having a boy in her living room. 

 

“Eep!” She squeezes her pillow in her cute, small arms, “Do you think he would come again if I invited him? Would he think I’m too forward if I invite him to my room?” 

 

“Uh…” 

 

“It would be, huh? Agh!! What am I thinking?? I haven’t even messaged him yet!” She buries her face into the pillow.

 

“Wait, he gave you his number?” Tanaka asks. 

 

“Yeah! But what do I even say to him?” She pulls out her phone to stare at the newly added contact information. Tanaka uses the opportunity to discreetly put his phone on silent mode. 

 

“Why are you thinking so hard about it anyway?” Tanaka doesn’t want to dare to ask, but he feels he should get a better grasp of the situation.

 

Fuka lets out a big sigh, “I don’t know, [Name]-chan… I think… I’m starting to like him? Ahhh!! It’s so weird to say out loud!!!” She buries her face into the pillow once more. 

 

It’s much weirder to hear it directly. Tanaka has to admit, Fuka is adorable beyond legality, especially when she’s getting flustered about developing a crush. And as flattered as he is to hear that it’s a crush on him, he knows it’s not really on him. 

 

All the things that Fuka likes about ‘Tanaka’ are all actually you. You’re the one who saved her, you’re the one who knows how to converse with her, you’re the one who’s funny and easy to talk to. Who wouldn’t fall for her own best friend in male form? 

 

“Actually, I asked if I could come in and watch him practice sometime but he didn’t seem too keen on the idea. Do you think he thinks I’m being pushy?” She asks.

 

“He’s uh… probably just nervous about messing up while you’re watching?” Tanaka offers. Given how you had mentioned that you were worried about making him lose his starting spot, he can appreciate how you didn’t straight up invite Fuka to watch you play for him.

 

“I still kind of want to watch though… Do you think he’d be mad if I came anyway? Should I wait until their actual matches to start?”

 

“Uhm… well,” You’re probably not going to be happy with him about this, but Fuka looks like she’s about to explode right now. It’s too cute to resist, “Tanaka said that they have a practice match coming up this week...” 

 

“They do?? Can we go watch it together?” She jumps to her knees in front of him, grabbing his hands and pouting adorably. “Pleeeaasseee, [Name]-chan?” 

 

“Uhm, yeah. I guess.” He was actually going to come watch the match anyway if you were both still in each other’s bodies by then. And honestly, it doesn’t look like you’ll be switching back anytime soon, so he’ll have to just roll with the punches and watch silently as Fuka’s fake crush on him grows. 

 

He continues to listen to her gushing for a while longer, but his mind just floats back towards you and what you said earlier. ‘What if Fuka-chan and I happened to like the same boy?’

 

Even though you claimed it was purely hypothetical, he couldn’t keep his heart from both racing and aching just a bit. Because if he were to jump headfirst right into conclusions —as he usually does— then he would assume that since Fuka is technically developing a crush on ‘Tanaka,’ that maybe you could also…? 

 

Okay, okay, he needs to take a step back. If he’s learned anything about this entire body switching experience, it’s that he should stop and assess the situation clearly before taking action. This isn’t volleyball, where he can usually make snap decisions and let his body follow through without delay. He needs to take his time to work through this… and think… 

 

And he thinks that… if you happened to like anyone, on the off chance that maybe it wasn’t him, then he’d be upset. As strange as this whole thing has been, and as weird as it is to learn about you while staring at his own face and body working without his control, he’s grown attracted to you. Not that having your entire body available for him to admire at any time of day didn’t factor into it, but if you happened to like someone else… after all that you’ve gone through together and all that he’s learned about you, his heart would hurt. A lot. Just the prospect of it already puts an ache in his chest. 

 

You practically said to his face that you didn’t think that someone would choose you if you were competing with your best friend, and that broke his heart. To think that you would feel that way despite loving Fuka as much as you do, all he wants is to prove you wrong. He wants to smash through that assumption of yours like a spike through a three-man block. 

 

Maybe he’ll have to teach you a thing or two about that.



***



It’s the Monday night before the practice match, and you are the last one left in the gym. Usually, it’s the two rambunctious first years who are always up late and practicing their quick attacks, but tonight you couldn’t shake the nerves during cleanup, so you just set up the net again secretly after everyone leaves. But you’ve gotta say, it’s hard trying to spike a ball by yourself. 

 

You’re both relieved and embarrassed when Tanaka shows up about half an hour into your self-practice and offers you some help, no questions asked. 

 

“Timing comes with practice and your relationship with your setter. But honestly, Kageyama’s a fuckin’ prodigy so you really don’t have to do as much with your aim when he tosses to you.” He explains, “So for now, I would just say trust your teammates to let you focus on spiking. Don’t be afraid to use all your strength, even if it’s just a feint.”

 

“But what if there’s a block?” 

 

“You try to aim your spike in a direction that’ll avoid or get through the block. But that’s harder to do in the beginning. Why don’t we just work on building your confidence in calling for the ball first?” 

 

“Okay.” You nod timidly. 

 

It’s kind of daunting to play volleyball in Tanaka’s body right in front of him when he can see all the things you’re doing wrong with it, but he’s supportive and patient with all of his advice. Some of the suggestions he gives you are things that the rest of the team has told you too, so you have a better idea of what kind of habits you should be more aware of now. He actually laughs at you a few times when you funk up a few plays, so at least he’s a good sport about it. 

 

It’s kind of funny how he has to adjust your long, teenage boy limbs with his smaller, teenage girl body to fix your posture. And sometimes, when he tries to provide a practical example using your body, he doesn’t get as much traction or height as he expects, so you both end up laughing when he trips up occasionally. 

 

“Why don’t we call it a night?” He suggests when it starts to approach after dinner hours. “You need to be well rested for tomorrow.” 

 

“I’ll try.” You nod with a sigh, “Thanks, Tanaka…” For everything.  

 

He seems to hear your silent thought and returns it with a smile, “Not a problem.” 

 

As the two of you give the gym a second cleaning for the night, you think about how unbelievably glad you are that things aren’t weird between you after the last talk you had. You can’t be making things more complicated than they already are by bringing your feelings into the mix, especially with no switch-back date in sight. This match is only going to be a step in this uphill battle until you both can find a way back to your own bodies. So until things have settled down, all of that weird flippy stuff your heart is doing needs to take a back seat. Or stay in the trunk. 

 

“Oi!! Ryu!!” Nishinoya jumps and drags you down by the elbow he hooks around your neck as he lands beside you when you’re changing in the clubroom before afternoon practice, “How are you feeling today??! Need me to psych you up for the match?” 

 

“I’ll take any boost you got, Noya-san!” You stand tall, acting like you’re ready to face your big first match. 

 

“That’s the spirit!!” The bright libero laughs.

 

“Tanaka-san!! Are you back in the zone for today’s match??” Hinata jumps excitedly, forgetting his current task of changing into his gym shorts. 

 

“Put some pants on, Hinata. I’m as ready as I’ll ever be. We’ll see if I can get my mojo back and show those Tomiya guys what I’m made of!!” You do your best to exchange energies with all the members, even though you’re totally bluffing it. It works though, and their excitement gets you excited, which helps balance out the nervousness weighing you down. 

 

You manage to go through the motions of warmups, practice, greeting the volleyball club from Tomiya High School, and standing in your starting position. For Tanaka’s sake, you hope this won’t be the last time his body is standing in this spot. 

 

To your surprise, when both teams are in their starting positions on either side of the net, you spot two girls up in the spectators’ balcony above the court, and you freeze when you see your own body staring down at you from several feet up with an encouraging smile and fist in the air. And of course, beside Tanaka is your best friend, waving with a shy smile now that she sees you’ve spotted them. 

 

Suddenly, all the hype your teammates bashed into you gets caught in your throat, and you can’t do much else besides offer an awkward wave back. 

 

“Ryu!! You didn’t tell me that were gonna have girls here!!” Nishinoya whisper-shouts from his position behind you. 

 

“Aren’t they the girls who came here last time? I didn’t realize Tanaka actually knew any girls.” Azumane ponders. 

 

“With all due respect, Asahi-san, Tanaka-san is super cool! Of course he’d be popular with girls!” Hinata defends. You know, you find yourself on board with that argument now that you know what you know about the guy. 

 

“Shut up, dumbass!” Kageyama, Hinata’s ever-scowling partner-in-crime, shouts at the little middle blocker. “We’re about to start a match! Who cares about a couple of girls?” 

 

“They’re very cute!” Nishinoya shouts. “To think, Ryu has his own girl fans!!! I’m so freakin’ jealous!!!” 

 

“Everyone be quiet!” Sawamura shuts everyone up, which you are intensely grateful for because as the conversation went on, it just got more audible for the rest of the gym. Meaning not only your team members, but the other team, the coaches, and Fuka and Tanaka could hear as well. 

 

It was a nice distraction while it lasted though, because once the match starts up, all you can focus on is the ball, and doing whatever you can in your section and power to not let it fall on your side of the court. It’s rough, but not any more than it is in regular practices. A few of your receives are flyaways, some of your spikes are duds, anxiety is sky-high when you hear someone calling “Tanaka!” and you don’t know from where, and Tomiya’s play style veers toward defense; meaning, you are blocked at least half the time. 

 

All of that practice didn’t go to nothing though, because you do contribute to a handful of points during the first set. Most of them are getting the ball to a more capable spiker though, or miraculously making your own block (though you were mostly following the rest of the wall that was formed by the net). So you’re at least happy to say that losing the first set isn’t entirely your fault. Though of course, you did contribute to several lost points. 

 

No one lets it get to you. All your teammates shout, “Don’t mind!” like a mantra and give you encouraging pats — or smacks, in Nishinoya’s case — on the back. You can hear Tanaka and Fuka screaming for you in the stands too. None of it gets easier for you, because you’re constantly on high alert when the ball is up in the air, but your ambition grows. Especially when you manage to keep a small lead during the second set. 

 

Doing your best to channel all the energy everyone is sending you, you take your breaths and keep your focus. And when the opportunity comes, your body has moved before your mind has realized it. 

 

There’s a small opening on the edge of the court because they only have a two-man wall for their block this time. You don’t think about the if’s or the but’s and remember what Tanaka said to you about trusting the team. So you do just that and call for the ball. 

 

Like magic, it appears in front of your hand right as you strike it down in front of the net with all the power you’ve amped up in your run and jump. You only get a brief glimpse of where the ball lands before you’re on your feet again, but when the whistle is blown and the student referee signals that it’s in the line, you let out the biggest celebratory shout you ever have in your life. 

 

“YEAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!” 

 

Even in Tanaka’s loud voice though, it’s not enough to drown out the happy shouts of the rest of the volleyball club. In seconds, they’re surrounding you and squeezing you with hugs and noogies even though the set isn’t even over yet. But you don’t care! The celebration is worth it, because that play was faster than the blink of an eye, but you did it!! You scored a point for you team!! You can finally start to redeem Tanaka’s honor in the volleyball club!!! 



*

 

*

 

*



Or so you think. 

 

Because after another blink, and a moment of disorientation, you look around and you’re no longer surrounded by sweaty, smiling boys in black uniforms. You’re looking down at a bundle of sweaty, smiling boys in black uniforms. From above. 

 

Instead of hearing the roars and calls of half a dozen male voices around you, there’s only one shrill, excited squeal from beside you. The person squealing is hugging you tightly and jumping as she shouts, “Did you see that?? Did you see it?? Oh my gosh, it was so cool, [Name]-chan!!” 

 

“‘[Name]-chan’...” You repeat slowly. 

 

The sound of your feminine voice brings you to look down and your hands, your clothes, your hair, your chest, your butt, and then you scream. “ I’m [Name]-chan!!! Ahhh!!!” You shriek as you hug Fuka back tightly and jump with her, while she replies with a confused, “What…?” 



*



Tanaka is overwhelmed with the exponential increase in his own body temperature. He is hot and sweaty and surrounded by a bunch of other hot and sweaty guys. 

 

BUT WHO GIVES A DAMN?? BECAUSE THEY’RE HIS HOT AND SWEATY GUYS!!! 

 

“Okay everyone, shut up!” Daichi’s captain voice comes out because they have been celebrating for way too long. “Get back into your positions! And Tanaka,” 

 

“Yes, sir!” Tanaka responds automatically, trying not to let tears form in his eyes at the familiar sound of his own voice again. But they’re there anyway and everyone can see and hear the emotion building up. So they automatically assume it’s because of the successful play that was just made. 

 

The captain offers a smile, “Welcome back.” 

 

He blinks for a moment and takes all the pats on the back before letting his gaze drift up towards the stands, where he spots you jumping and hugging Fuka in celebration too. You catch his gaze, and he’s suddenly gobsmacked by how pretty you are now that he gets to see you again through his own eyes, smiling brightly at him and pumping your fist cutely in victory. 

 

His lips spread into the most meaningful smile he’s ever felt stretch across his face, “I’m back.” 



*



Karasuno manages to win the practice match in the third set. Though they play one more game against Tomiya and lose by a close margin before the guest volleyball club has to take off. It’s been about a week and a half since Tanaka has been able to play volleyball comfortably in his own body, but that makes it all the more refreshing. The exhilaration of nailing a spike to the ground and shouting in victory with his comrades is multiplied after this extended vacation. 

 

He welcomes every toss, every pass, every quip from his teammates — even Tsukishima’s — and every point, won or lost. They’re all his again, and he’s never felt so happy to be in his own skin again. 

 

Granted, he very much enjoyed being in yours for a short period, but there is really nothing like living completely and truthfully as himself. It’s like he’s been purged of all his secrets that were weighing him down, and he feels lighter, yet stronger than ever. 

 

Which comes in handy when the matches are over and you run down from the stands to jump into his arms in a hug, “Tanaka!!! I can’t believe it!!” You laugh almost deliriously in joy. 

 

“I know, right?!” He’s too happy to feel self-conscious about you pressing your chest against him, so he laughs and hugs you back, “That spike was amazing!” 

 

“It was just one point, but I sure as hell am proud of it!!” You pull back to shout. “Now I don’t have to worry about embarrassing you anymore.” 

 

“You never embarrassed me.” He smiles, “If anything, you always went the extra mile, and I can’t be anything but proud of that. Thank you.” 

 

“No, thank you .” You sigh blissfully, “It’s so good to finally see you like this. With my own eyes.” 

 

“Likewise.” 

 

His private mini-celebration with you is interrupted by a few cleared throats and curious stares. That’s when he and you take your steps back away from each other. 

 

“Tanaka, aren’t you going to introduce us to your… friends?” Suga is the one who breaks the ice with a knowing smile. 

 

“O-Of course!” He coughs, suddenly noticing Fuka standing on the side of the gym awkwardly. He introduces both you and her to his teammates as his classmates. 

 

You bow and beam your unstoppable smile at his club members, “Nice to meet you all. I’ve heard a lot about you from Tanaka. You’re a great team.” 

 

“T-Thank you!” Several of the second and first-years are taken aback at your bright compliment, which Tanaka understands. Your pretty face amplified by your beautiful energy could bring the dead back to life. 

 

It’s not long, however, before Sawamura orders everyone to gather up for cleanup and a meeting, so Tanaka wants to at least arrange another time to talk to you again before you leave. “Hey, talk later?” 

 

“Y-Yeah! Of course.” Weird, you sounded surprisingly hesitant for that one. “Uhm, also, I think someone else wants to offer her congratulations.” You pivot to the side to beckon Fuka over towards you and him. 

 

Before she’s within earshot, you lean in to murmur, “I’m gonna leave your phone in your shoe locker. Give me mine tomorrow?” 

 

“Yeah, sure.” He nods, somewhat disappointed, but at least glad that there’s a time that he’ll be able to talk to you again. 

 

“Fuka-chan, Tanaka did amazing, didn’t he?” You turn all your attention to your friend and urge her to speak to him, “Why don’t you guys talk for a bit while I go to the bathroom?” You raise your eyebrows in a subtle signal that you’re not actually going to the bathroom. “Back in a bit!” You announce before either Tanaka or Fuka can stop you. 

 

Well, hopefully this isn’t weird; talking to Fuka for the time truly as himself rather than under the guise of her trusted friend. “Hi. Thanks for coming out to support the team.” 

 

“Y-Yes!” She yips, already turning a light pink, “It was… that was so amazing! Your spikes were so cool, Tanaka-kun.” 

 

He thanks her as calmly and appreciatively as he can, even though he wasn’t the one playing for the majority of the first match. Though he did go out of his way during the second match because he just missed playing volleyball so much. But he supposes that after almost two weeks of his team adjusting and trying to get him back in sync, it was hard for them to switch right back into gear as if nothing had ever happened. 

 

Regardless, Fuka seems to have watched the entire game through a sparkling lens because she seems genuinely awed by it all. “I never knew how intense volleyball could be! And you’re such a good player.” 

 

“Aha… no, I’ve still got a lot to learn.” Strange, how he doesn’t find it hard at all to be modest and calm in front of a cute girl. If this was him from half a month ago, he’d be a stuttering, blushing mess right now. Or hiding behind one of his senpai. 

 

“Say, would it be okay if… if I came to watch again sometime?” Fuka’s eyes are wide and hopeful, dangerously cute and hard to turn down because he doesn’t want to hurt her feelings. But he also doesn’t want to encourage her “crush” any further since it was based on false pretenses. Plus, that would also make… other matters complicated.

 

Tanaka’s eyes find you leaning by the door right away and for some reason, he can feel his heart moving a beat more rapidly than it was earlier. Not unlike how it feels when he’s warming up for a match. “I guess I don’t mind.” He finally answers Fuka’s question.

 

“Okay! Great!” Fuka pumps on the balls of her feet in excitement, “So, uhm… I’ll see you in class then!” 

 

“Have a good night.” He nods to her. 

 

“To you as well! A good night!” She says too quickly and then grimaces at herself before speeding towards the door. Tanaka chuckles as she breezes right past you to be out of sight as soon as possible, and he sees you chuckling as well. You give him a last casual wave before following your best friend out of the gym, and Tanaka takes in a deep breath. 

 

Only to have it knocked right back out of him when Noya and Suga attack him from behind, shouting and interrogating him about who he is and what’s happened to him. He’s probably got a lot of explaining (lying) to do, but he is so very glad to be back with his family of volleyball nuts again. 



***



You and Tanaka may never truly know the key event that switched you two back to your own bodies, because the temple definitely doesn’t have the answers. And the both of you stared at your souvenir omamori and talked endlessly about all the possible reasons it could’ve happened when it did. 

 

“Maybe it was after a climactic event? Since it was right after I made the spike, but not before the match ended.” 

 

“Maybe it was an exchange, like the monk told us it was about spiritual discovery or something like that, right? Maybe we discovered something about each other?” 

 

It’s the early evening in the park where you two have taken refuge on a bench with your vending machine drinks as usual. Finally, you two had time to rendezvous a couple days after the practice match. Tanaka’s been working his way back into his volleyball club routine, and you’ve been trying to really get up to speed with Fuka without making it look like you’re trying to get up to speed. 

 

“I discovered a lot of things about you, but what does that have to do with it happening at that exact time?” You wonder.

 

“Maybe you achieved some sort of spiritual awakening when you made your spike?” 

 

“Well, what about you then? If it happened right after I made the spike, then does that mean you already had your ‘spiritual awakening’ before me? And I don’t even know what I ‘discovered’ in that exact moment anyway. It all happened so fast.”

 

Tanaka shrugs, lifting his soda bottle up for sip, “Who knows? How’d you feel at the time?” 

 

“...Good.” You admit, “Like I finally accomplished something for you.” 

 

“For me?” Tanaka looks bewildered. “What do you mean?” 

 

“Well… I mean, you’d been doing so much already by trying to live normally as a girl for me, and then on top of that, you realized something was wrong with Fuka-chan. You were there for her when I couldn’t be, and… you know, you did all of it and even scared off her stalker without having signed up for any of it.” You shrug, pressing your lips together and looking at the grass instead of at Tanaka, “I just… guess I always felt guilty that I couldn’t do anything for you other than suck at volleyball.” 

 

“As if,” Tanaka scoffs, “Did you forget that you lived my life for me too? Dealing with all my crazy friends and family?”

 

“I like your family.” You smile at the memory of everyone aiming snacks into Tanaka’s dad’s mouth for points. 

 

“Which is already a service to God in itself.” Tanaka insists, punching your arm lightly, “And come on, don’t act like getting up for morning practice and working your ass off for afternoon practice was easy. You went into an actual match and kept my honor for me. That’s a fucking lot, if you ask me.” 

 

“I can do you one better.” You laugh, turning in your seat to face him, “You went out shopping and eating dessert with Fuka-chan all week and you still managed not to run out of allowance.” 

 

“Oh yeah? What about how you helped my sister around the house even after practice and made her like me more?” He challenges, turning to face you as well. 

 

“Are you bragging or complaining because she’s gonna expect you to keep helping her out?” 

 

“Maybe both.” 

 

You both laugh effortlessly as you continue to talk about all the small things that happened while you lived each other’s lives, because now you can. Now that it’s over, you’re all too elated to have Tanaka to babble about the experience with. It’s hard to believe that the two of you were just classmates who barely knew each other’s names not even a month ago. You feel like he could be your best friend now. 

 

Your best friend… that you have a small crush on. It’s undeniable, since you’re looking straight into his face and your heart is pulsing in what feels like your throat. Even though you told yourself you’d deal with this dilemma after you switched back, it doesn’t make it any easier. Your feelings are there, but Fuka has been talking about Tanaka a lot more. And now that her every interaction with him is actually his genuine self, you can’t stop her from falling for him. 

 

“By the way,” you bring up, a little more quiet than you were just a minute ago, “Fuka-chan asked if you wanna join us for waffles this weekend.” 

 

“This weekend? Sure.” He agrees easily. 

 

“Great, she’ll be so happy about that.” 

 

You wish you could be as happy about it too. 



***



Things have finally settled back into their normal routines. It’s been over a month since Tanaka and you had returned to your own bodies, and it looks like they’re there to stay. However, the one new thing that he finds hard to get used to is having girls cheering him on at home practice matches. There’s only been one more organized since the Tomiya match, but having more female presences there to encourage the team really did wonders for Karasuno’s spirit. 

 

Noya managed to save even some of the most impossible spikes to catch, Hinata glowed at every single “Nice kill!” shouted for his points — whether he actually spiked them or not — Asahi was showing a little more power than usual, and even Tsukishima was scoffing less. And Tanaka himself, well he almost took off his shirt quite a few times in the heat of all the moments before his senpai stopped him. 

 

So of course, the post-match congratulations were likely to be quite a rowdy affair. If Tanaka was honest, he was looking quite forward to your reaction to seeing him play at his full strength. He’d accept all of your compliments humbly and humorously before throwing in a joke that was actually a subtle flex, and then you’d laugh that ridiculously pretty laugh of yours and give him a high-five. Maybe even a hug if you were feeling dramatic like at the last match. 

 

So to say that he is devastatingly thrown and disappointed by your, “Nice game, Tanaka!!” and fist bump before moving aside to let Fuka talk to him would be a… somewhat accurate, if not incredibly understated description of his feelings. In fact, he’s so thrown that he doesn’t even hear what Fuka says to him when she walks up to offer her praise and thoughts on the match. 

 

For some reason, you’re making the rounds and giving everyone on the team a compliment, even calling them by name even though you’re supposed to barely know most of them. Most of it, you’ve probably passed off as hearing about them from Tanaka rather than having practiced closely with them for a week in the past, but you seem a lot chummier with some of the members than he expected. 

 

Especially with Ennoshita, the bastard who’s always making jokes about how he’s going to replace Tanaka in the starting position if he isn’t careful. Since when did you get so close to that guy anyway?? You’re chatting with him as if you’ve been friends longer than you have with Tanaka!!! Granted, at least you’re not smiling like you do when you’re with him, so there’s tha— 

 

Nope, you just laughed at something Ennoshita said, which definitely either means Tanaka is the butt of joke, or Hinata is the butt of the joke. And judging by the way the guy actually glances up in Tanaka’s direction with a faint smile, it looks like he’s being betrayed by his own teammate. 

 

“Oi! Ennoshita. The hell are you sayin’ that’s so funny, huh?!” He practically snarls. 

 

“Eh? Me?” Ennoshita and you both turn your heads to Tanaka, then over to each other before letting out what can only be a secret chuckle before turning to him again. Which means!!! He really was making fun of Tanaka, the bastard!!! “Nothing, I don’t think you’d get the joke.” 

 

“The hell did you just say??” Tanaka storms up and grabs Ennoshita by the collar to shake him, but his rival on both the court and with girls isn’t threatened at all. He just continues to laugh. 

 

“Calm down, Tanaka. I didn’t say anything bad about you.” 

 

“Like hell you didn’t!!!” He keeps shaking. 

 

“Well, anyway. I think we should probably head home for tonight,” you announce as you return to Fuka, whom Tanaka now realizes he just left in the middle of their conversation. “Great match! Goodnight, guys!” 

 

“S-See you in class tomorrow, Tanaka-kun!” Fuka adds before walking with you out of the gym. You only offer a last minute wave before making your exit, leaving Tanaka speechless. 

 

“Hey, they’re gone. You can let go of me now.”

 

“Like hell I will!!” 



*



You’ve been trying your best not to make things awkward, but it’s altogether impossible when you think you’re starting to fall deeper and deeper into your little crush. It’s been weeks since you’ve switched back, and now Tanaka is usually the main topic of conversation between you and Fuka during your dessert outings. 

 

How can you help it when you agree with all the great things your friend is gushing about over the guy you both happen to like?? She just makes it so easy to talk about him, because she wants to know everything, and you happen to know a lot about him. And often, that leads to having to save your own ass for the sake of both your secret about the switch, and your secret about your crush. 

 

“I wonder how Tanaka-kun styles himself when he’s not in the school uniform?” 

 

“He’s surprisingly stylish,” you look up from your tart thoughtfully, “I think he likes to have some color in his wardrobe, but it’s still pretty simple.” Also, you know for a fact that he has underwear in all kinds of colors. 

 

“Ohhh, have you seen him wearing street clothes a lot before, [Name]-chan?” Fuka leans over with stars in her eyes, “Do you hang out with him often, actually?” 

 

“That’s— Uhm, well… not really? It’s just what I’ve seen in his room.” 

 

“You’ve been in his room before??” She gasps. 

 

Shit. “Oh yeah, I never told you. I… I used to drop off stuff at their house for my mom. And uh, yeah he invited me to his room. We just talked, no big deal.” 

 

“Wow… I’m so jealous, [Name]-chan!” Fuka practically whines. Whew. “But you and Tanaka-kun are really so much closer than I realized… After all this time, I never knew… And you can talk to him so easily! And get invited into his house and his room. I want to see Tanaka-kun’s room… What does it look like?” 

 

And so on and so forth. Sometimes, you had to stop yourself from gushing about Tanaka in one way or another, because you found it surprisingly easy to do. And the more you talk to Fuka about it, the more you realize that you do think that he’s cool, and funny, and hard-working, and strong, and athletic, and passionate, and kind, and sensitive, and… handsome. 

 

Weird, before all of this, you never would’ve noticed Tanaka all that much, let alone think he was handsome. Guys with shaved heads were definitely not your thing, but now they’re all you think about in your free time. And with Fuka being so expressive about her own crush on him, you can’t bring yourself to tell her or anyone about your feelings. 

 

Although it seems like Ennoshita has already sussed you out. He was telling you after Karasuno’s last practice match about how hopeless Tanaka can be around girls, but you’ve become a surprising exception in his life. But you can’t bring yourself to tell him about this if it’ll only complicate things. It’s not like you’d really have a chance after he spent over a week with someone as cute and quirky as Fuka and now basically has her heart ripe for the picking. 

 

And it all becomes way too palpable for you to face when Fuka announces that she’s going to confess. You almost choke on your tea when she tells you in her room one day after school. “A-All of a sudden? Final exams are coming.” You try to keep your composure. 

 

“I know, which is why I’ll wait until exams are over to do it. I just really want to do it before summer break starts. I don’t know if I’ll be able to see him during the vacation, and… if he says no, then at least I have the whole break to mend my heart.” She reasons. 

 

You hesitate as you finish cleaning off the tea you spilled on the table before daring to ask, “And if he says yes…?” 

 

Fuka doesn’t answer right away, but when she throws herself onto her bed and kicks at her mattress while screaming into the pillow, you can tell that she’s excited at the prospect of summer love. So what are you supposed to do but support her? 



***



“This is the true strength of your senpai.” Tanaka and Noya perfect their back-to-back poses after revealing their passing grades for their last final exams, giving them the green light to join the summer training camp in Tokyo. 

 

He actually studied his ass off for these exams, and he went out of his way to pass them for the sake of this training camp. It truly feels like everything is back in place, with him prioritizing volleyball over everything. And of course, Karasuno’s volleyball team wouldn’t be complete without the two idiot first-years who didn’t pass one exam each. 

 

But Tanaka Ryunosuke is a man of valor, who will put his pride on the line in order to help his team. Which is how he got into this mess of trying to convince his sister to drive Hinata and Kageyama up to Tokyo once they’ve finished their makeup exams. He’s been trying to wear her down all week, convince her with special treatment, drumming events in Tokyo, and even haggling with chores, but she’s blatantly refused every single time! 

 

And now with barely two days left before the trip to Tokyo, he’s entirely and overwhelmingly lost on how to badger her again to a point that she’d actually agree. He wonders and wonders until he sees you approaching in the hallway in school. 

 

“Hey! [Surname].” He calls for you without needing to think about it. 

 

Your head snaps up in his direction and your warm smile could very well fix his entire day right now, “Tanaka, hey. Your training camp is this weekend, right? You excited?” 

 

“Uhh… yeah but I got myself into some trouble where I promised Hinata and Kageyama that my sister would drive them up to Tokyo after they finished their makeup exams, but she keeps saying no…” 

 

“You promised them that before you got your sister to agree?” The incredulous look you give him makes him want to curl back in embarrassment, but you set him free with an understanding laugh almost right afterwards, “What a kind teammate you are. And let me guess, you’re determined to keep trying to convince Saeko-nee-san until you can follow through with your promise?” 

 

“You bet. But it’s been so hard! I don’t know what else I’m supposed to do!!” He groans, grabbing at his head in frustration, “She wouldn’t even budge when I told her there was a Taiko festival happening in Tokyo at the same time.” 

 

You hum in thought, “Well, when I was acting as Tanaka Ryunosuke, I noticed she was pretty impressed and nicer to me when I helped her around the house. But she didn’t really respond to me when I spoke nicely to her; always thought I was being sarcastic or something.”

 

“So… I should offer to help her do more chores at home?” He tries. But he technically already tried that with the bargaining. 

 

So , I think she responds better to actions than words.” You explain. “It doesn’t have to be housework, since you might not even have time to help her do it. Just… show her your conviction.” 

 

His conviction…  

 

He thinks about what you said for the rest of the afternoon, through practice, through Hinata and Kageyama’s last cram sessions, and throughout his trip home. And it’s times like these that he wished he was closer with or more appreciative of everything his sister did for him, because he can’t think of any goddamn thing that he can do for her that would convince her. 

 

Which is why he ends up on his knees in order to show his conviction. If anything, he has to at least prove that he’s sincere, and that he really wants for his entire team to be at the training camp, not just to look cool as a senpai. And to his great surprise, she agrees before he can completely prostrate himself to the ground. 

 

“Save that for when it’s truly important, Ryu.” Saeko had advised him. 

 

He’s too happy to really understand what she’s saying to him, but what’s important is that she agreed. She agreed!! The first-years will be able to join the training camp. And what’s even more interesting, Tanaka wants to tell you about it right away. 

 

It feels kind of silly to be smiling so widely just because he’s sending you a text, but before he can really mull on how ridiculous he’s being that he’s so excited to tell you about it that he can’t wait until he sees you at school tomorrow to do it, you text him back. 




[Surname] [08:12]: ‘Congrats~ ^^ now the camp will be complete and you’re gonna be the coolest senpai ever’ 




Why is Tanaka’s heart racing so intensely because of a text? But as he texts you back and partakes in casual conversation with you over the next few hours, the answer is clear as day to him. It’s because they’re coming from you. 

 

And it grows even clearer when he sees you walk into the classroom with a lazy, “G’morning~” and his heart does the exact same thing. Nothing is different about you, or the day, or what’s going on between you, but Tanaka can feel a palpable emotion much clearer in his chest that’s spreading heat to every part of his body like a splash of watercolor on blank paper. Heck, even his thoughts are getting more poetic. 

 

Even though he had already thanked you yesterday through text, Tanaka still wants to say it to you aloud. And possibly also give himself an excuse to talk to you. So he casually interrupts your small talk with Fuka to get your attention, “Hey, [Surname]. Thanks again for your advice. It really helped me figure out how to approach my sister better. Not just for this time either.” 

 

“You saying you understand her better now?” You smile proudly at him, “Good for you. I’m glad it worked out. I know the team probably wouldn’t feel complete without those two first-years.” 

 

“They definitely wouldn’t.” Tanaka laughs in agreement. 

 

“Which first-years?” Fuka chimes in curiously. 

 

“Hinata-kun and Kageyama-kun. That little redhead and that tall, angrier looking one. The setter, if you remember.” You offer. 

 

“Oh… I think… I remember, yeah.” Fuka nods slowly, “Wow, how do you know the team so well, [Name]-chan? I thought it was your first time meeting them that day of the practice match too.” 

 

“A-Ah! That’s—“ Your voice falters and scrambles for an answer. 

 

“O-Oh! That’s probably because I’m always talking so much about them. [Surname] probably knows the team as well as I do now.” Tanaka tries to come in for a save. Which he then realizes as he says it, is completely true. “My bad, I know you probably don’t want to just hear about volleyball all the time.” 

 

“No!” You’re quick to retort, “I mean, no, I don’t mind. I think it’s cool how you’re so passionate about it. And the team. That’s why you worked so hard to ask your sister for help, isn’t it?” 

 

When Tanaka nods with an appreciative smile, he swears to God that he hopes he isn’t just imagining the light pinkness around your ears. 

 

“Fuka-chan thinks it’s cool too, right Fuka-chan?” You add, in what Tanaka assumes is an attempt to shift the attention away from you while you collect yourself. Which is damn cute. 

 

“Definitely! Even though we’ve only watched a couple practice games, I can tell you guys work really hard and care a lot about volleyball!” Fuka agrees with her own adorable smile. 

 

He tries to be humble in his thanks and follow-up babbling about the club and his teammates and the summer training camps they have lined up, which is when Fuka finds an opening to bring up something completely unexpected, “So… I know you have to leave tonight for your training camp, but do you think you would have time for dessert with us today after club?” 

 

“Today?” Tanaka ponders. It’d be kind of a tight schedule since he hasn’t packed yet. And he’d still have to grab some dinner and shower before heading back to school for their midnight departure. 

 

“Only if you have time, of course!” Fuka adds timidly. 

 

“Oh come on, Tanaka always has time for some nice girls, don’t you, Tanaka?” You announce knowingly, raising your eyebrows at him. 

 

Well, for you, why not? “Yeah, I do. Let’s do it.” He agrees happily. 

 

So to his own embarrassment, his cleanup job in the gym this afternoon might be a little more shoddy than usual because he’s kind of excited about the cafe outing afterwards. Even more so when he’s actually reprimanded about it by Ennoshita just as he’s putting the mop away. 

 

“What are you in such a rush for anyway? You have until tonight to prepare for the camp. Knowing you, you still haven't packed yet.” The second-year guesses. 

 

“It’s okay, Ryu!!! I’m also completely unpacked so far!” Noya announces. 

 

“It’s not that, guys.” Tanaka defends, but he wonders if he can announce that he’s going out with two cute girls with a straight face. “I’m… gonna hang out with [Surname] and Fuka-chan.” 

 

The uproar is instant. 

 

“YOU WHAT??”

 

“RYUUUUUUU!!!!”

 

“EHHHH?!?!?”

 

“Right before training camp? How bold of you.” 

 

“Again?”

 

“There’s hope for him.” 

 

“RYU!! HE’S LIVING THE DREAM!!” 

 

“Those same girls from last time?” 

 

Again, Tanaka tries to be as humble as possible, but it’s hard when his teammates’ reactions are just inflating his head. And/or popping the air out with certain comments. But none of that is going to affect his excitement for tonight. Honestly, he doubts that anything will as he’s walking out of the club room in fresh clothes to the front of the school. 

 

That is, until he sees that it’s only Fuka waiting. “Ah, [Name]-chan suddenly got an emergency call from home, so she can’t make it today.” 

 

“Oh.” Well that’s too bad.

 

“Is it still okay if it’s just the two of us?” Fuka asks, looking nervous like he might say no. As if. 

 

“Yeah, sure.” 

 

Half an hour later, they’re seated at a cafe that he’s visited with Fuka before while he as still posing as you. Funnily enough, they both end up ordering the same things as they did before. And as nervous as Fuka seemed earlier about it just being the two of them, she’s talking pretty naturally now that Tanaka asked some of the dessert questions he used before, also when he was posing as you. He even makes her laugh a couple of times. 

 

It’s funny, how comfortably he’s settled into this setting, even as a different person. The familiarity of eating these desserts with Fuka reminds him of the absurd experience he had while inhabiting another person’s body, and it makes life seem a lot easier now. Talking to a girl is no longer as challenging as it used to be, now that he’s had some practice. Even if it was unconventional. 

 

However, none of that practice talking to Fuka as a girl could have prepared Tanaka for this. 

 

“I like you, Tanaka-kun.” 

 

Tanaka’s spoon freezes in place and he blinks a few times before he finds his voice again, “Come again?” 

 

“I know you said it wasn’t a big deal how you saved me before,” Well, actually it is, especially because — again — he didn’t do that. “But getting to know you after all of that, I’ve come to realize… how cool you are. Oh my gosh, I’m sorry, I’m getting so nervous.” 

 

She slaps her hands to her cheeks and turns away as the red starts to color up the entirety of her face. It’s cute and endearing, but… Tanaka isn’t sure he likes where this is going. 

 

He gives Fuka a few moments of silence to collect herself before she takes a courageous breath again, “I… I think you’re really cool, Tanaka-kun, and I already know you’re a good person. Who knows if I would still be here if it wasn’t for you? So… I just wanted to tell you. Before summer break. Because… I didn’t really want to wait until the next semester to see you again.” 

 

Tanaka can’t stop blinking. Or maybe he’s just doing it to pass the time because he has no idea how to respond to this. So for now, he just puffs out a simple, “Oh.”

 

“I know, I know! It must seem ridiculous, right?” Fuka hides her face in her hands, “To just like you and suddenly confess to you when we haven’t really known each other for that long.”

 

Well, he wouldn’t say that. As an avid believer in love at first sight, Tanaka also thinks it’s entirely possible to fall for someone in a short snippet of time. Especially if it involves getting tangled up in a wild event that brings them together. Take his switch with you, for instance; Tanaka had barely talked to you just a couple months ago, but now his heart rushes and his eyes sparkle when you— 

 

Oh… 

 

Oh .

 

“But even so!” Fuka continues where she left off, “I wanted to tell you. Y-You don’t have to give me an answer right away… b-but I definitely, definitely had to tell you before summer break. I think I would have regretted it otherwise.” 

 

It’s Tanaka’s turn to take a breath, because he needs to mentally prepare for this even though he doesn’t want to keep Fuka waiting. “Thank you, Fuka-chan. For your heartfelt feelings. I’m uh… I’m happy that you told me.” 

 

“You are?” Her eyes widen with hope that breaks his heart to have to crush. 

 

“Yeah, I am. But…” Okay, maybe one more breath. He takes them all the time during matches, surely they’ll work to calm him for this too, right?? “I can’t accept your feelings, because I can't reciprocate them. I’m sorry.”

 

“Oh.” Fuka blinks, clearly in shock and slowly starting to show signs of disheartening. “I see.” 

 

“You’re a lovely girl, Fuka-chan, there’s no doubt about it. But… I already have someone I like.” 

 

“Ah.” She lets out a breathless laugh, “Of course. I’m sure whoever she is is really lucky. But uh… thank you, for being so kind about it.” She clears her throat and turns her glassy eyes away as she stands, “Can you excuse me for a minute.” 

 

Tanaka never wanted to — or even expected to — make a girl cry like this. Honestly, this was the kind of tragedy he used to yearn for when all he could do to experience it was through manga and anime. He dreamed of being that cool guy that all the girls wanted and had to deal with breaking a few hearts because there was just too much love being thrown at him. But now that he’s entered just a delicate situation involving the happiness and well-being of other people, this isn't all it’s cracked up to be. 

 

And as bad as he feels about what he just did to Fuka, all he can think about is what he’s gonna say to you. 



*



Today was the day that Fuka was going to confess, so you had done your part and not showed up to the after school outing so she could have some privacy with him. It was hard, sitting in your room alone while trying to come to terms with how your best friend and your crush might be together the next time you hear from them. But you had made a promise to both Fuka and yourself to be supportive of them. You wouldn’t dare go back on your word. 

 

You’ve been going around your room organizing books and manga, snacking, trying and failing to focus on a task, pacing, lying on your bed and hugging a pillow, thinking that maybe you should have a stuffed animal or two to decorate your room like other teenage girls, and a bunch of other useless things to keep your mind occupied. To your dismay, you’re incapable of putting Tanaka and Fuka’s happy faces out of your mind. 

 

And then your imagination piles on image after image of what your future as a trio may look like, or rather, them as a couple and you tagging along. Fuka and Tanaka will begin sharing dessert together at the table, leaving you to order and finish your own, you’ll be tasked with taking couple photos for them on outings. Overtime the photos will pile up and for one of their anniversaries, you’re helping Fuka print them out and assemble them into a scrapbook for her gift to Tanaka, while in the meantime you’re also secretly helping Tanaka pick and make reservations for them at a brand new, fancy cafe that teenagers can’t usually afford but know Fuka has been dying to go to. 

 

Soon enough, several years have passed by, Fuka and Tanaka have stayed together through college and it’s about time he got down on one knee for her. All their family, friends, and maybe even you think so at this point. He proposes on the roof of the cafe where Fuka first confessed, when the waiter brings in their desserts and also sets down the ring box alongside the fluffy pancakes they’ve ordered. You had told him it was a lame idea, but Fuka loved it anyway. 

 

Obviously, you’re assigned to be the maid of honor, forced to help plan the entire wedding and give a speech during the banquet about how you can’t believe your two best friends have been together for this long. And you and Tanaka exchange a secret toast of your own about how this wouldn’t have been possible it if weren’t for that ridiculous mishap that happened in high school. 

 

Fast forward another couple of years, their first child is already two, and they have another on the way. Her name is Chiaki and that little girl loves you, and is confiding in you about how excited she is to be getting a little brother. You admit that you’re excited too, but then Fuka and Tanaka walk in with the same lovey-dovey eyes they’ve had since high school, holding and rubbing on her growing stomach and you can only watch with quelled sadness because even after all these years, you’re still in love with Tanaka and it hurts to see them together now as much as it did the day you first heard he accepted her confession in high school, as the day he announced he was going to propose to Fuka, as the day they exchanged vows. 

 

And all the pain has bottled up and grown and grown to the point where you’ve put so much strain on your heart that you’ve contracted a chronic disease that leaves you with barely three more years to live. You’ve been trying to bring it up to Chiaki but it would just hurt even more, possibly to the point of triggering another strok—

 

Ring. Ring. 

 

Ring. Ring. 

 

Your phone pulls you out of the intensively detailed future you had been building in your daydream/lucid dream. You’re unsure of whether you were actually starting to nod off or not. 

 

The caller ID is from Fuka, and you note the time is hours after she would have confessed already. In fact, Karasuno’s training camp bus to Tokyo is leaving in an hour or so. There’s no way she doesn’t have his answer now if he gave it to her today. With a deep breath, you pick up, “Hello?!” 

 

Instead of the squealing and excited peal of laughter you had expected and would surely sound exactly like what Chiaki’s laugh would be, you hear sniffles from the other end of the phone. “Hello? Fuka-chan? Fuka-chan, what— what happened?” 

 

“Tanaka-kun…” 

 

“Yeah?? What about Tanaka?” 

 

“H-He said no.” She clears her throat, obviously trying to be strong about it, but her sniffles completely give her away. She’s probably already cried out the majority of her pain. “But it’s okay, I guess… I told him how I felt. I said what I needed to say.” 

 

“Well! That’s right! You did, and you know what, Tanaka is an idiot if he can’t see how great you are. So you’re better off anyway.” In this, you truly believe. Because in all honestly, you had already named both of their children; there was no way you saw this coming. How could Tanaka reject someone as cute and sweet as Fuka?? Aren’t athletes supposed to be opportunistic? What reason could possibly make him think he can do better than your best friend, the sweetest creature to ever walk the earth? 

 

“I don’t blame him,” Fuka chuckles, “He said he has someone he likes already.”

 

“Wait, what?” Now that result was even farther from your vision of possible outcomes, because you wrack and wrack your brain, and suddenly want to slap yourself for forgetting. 

 

How could you possibly forget the fact that he has the most gorgeous woman you’ve ever laid eyes on as his club manager?? This entire time, even you had been thrown for a loop at Shimizu Kiyoko’s unstoppable beauty when posing as Tanaka. And you knew with all the locker room gossip that he and Nishinoya regularly idolized her, and she had a few casual admirers in the rest of the club too. Of course Tanaka already had someone in mind, how did that possibly fly over your head this entire time?? 

 

“Oh my god, I am so sorry, Fuka-chan. I completely forgot that he might already like someone. I should’ve remembered and warned you about it.” You groan in genuine frustration, running a hand through your hair. 

 

“Wait, you know who Tanaka-kun likes?” She asks curiously. 

 

You breathe a rough sigh, “Yeah… I have an idea.” 

 

“Uhm… well, what do you… think?” She hesitates to ask. It’s a weird way to phrase the question about who Tanaka likes, but you suppose you don’t need to think much of it. 

 

“Well, I mean, she’s someone Tanaka has been around for a while, not to mention she’s probably the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. Also, she seems fairly unattainable, which I guess is even more attractive to bonehead guys sometimes.” 

 

To your surprise, Fuka scoffs. “Wow. Okay that’s a bit narcissistic, [Name]-chan.” 

 

“What? How? I’m being honest. Even as a girl, I think she’s objectively the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen. It’d be hard to compete with someone like her. I mean, not that I know her well, I’ve only met her a couple of times, of course! But Tanaka used to talk about her sometimes.” You try to cover up your loose ends. 

 

“Wait, hold on a second. Who are you talking about, [Name]-chan?” Fuka takes a pause to ask. 

 

You take another deep sigh before deciding, “Well, I suppose it’s fine to tell you. Just don’t tell Tanaka that you know, okay?” 

 

“Okay…?” 

 

“I’m guessing it’s probably their manager, Shimizu-senpai. Remember that really gorgeous girl who was helping give out water and towels and stuff during the practice matches?” 

 

“The… manager?” Fuka repeats. You’re not sure what to make of the silence, to judge it as shocked or understanding or dreadful. And then you’re hit with another shock bomb: Fuka laughs. 

 

And she laughs for a while. “Fuka-chan?” 

 

The next minute it takes for her to settle down, your anxiety builds. What could she possibly be laughing at?? 

 

“Oh, [Name]-chan, this is golden.” She sighs, “I think I can understand Tanaka-kun a bit better now. Thanks.” 

 

Wait, what? “What?” 

 

“It’s nothing. But… I think I’ll be just fine. I’m glad I told him. And… I think things will be just fine. For all of us.” 

 

“Okay…?” 

 

“Either way, just know that I’m fine. Thank you for supporting me through this.” She says tenderly. 

 

You are beyond confused right now, but you take a phrase you remember from a certain first-year you remember working with in the volleyball club to respond, “I don’t really get it, but if you say so, then I’m glad.” 

 

Even after you hang up with Fuka, though, you’re lost. Completely lost. You have no idea what could’ve completely triggered Fuka’s change in mood when she had been all but crying when she had first called you. Obviously, you’re happy that she’s better now, but your mind is completely botched with questions about why Tanaka didn’t accept her confession too. Nothing makes sense, and now that it’s summer vacation, you’ll only get answers if you reach out to Tanaka yourself. 

 

And that is a big no because even aside from the talking-to-your-crush-who-also-rejected-your-best-friend dynamic, he’s busy with training camp. You can’t bring about another distraction for him. He’s probably not right in the head right now either because he had the audacity to reject Fuka. What dude in his right mind would even think of such a thing??

 

Honestly, you had half a mind to storm back to school on their returning day from camp and demand answers from him then and there, but what happens between the two of them is their business. Even if it does involve your feelings. And… just because Tanaka isn’t going to propose to Fuka on the roof of a cafe and have two children with her doesn’t mean your heart hurts less. 

 

Sure, it’s not nearly as sharp of a pain knowing you won’t have to pine over your crush-turned-your-bff’s-boyfriend, but knowing Tanaka likes someone still hits that part of your heart like a dull spike. Top that off with the fact that said best friend is now heartbroken, pain is coming at you through all kinds of channels. 

 

So even though you planned to leave Tanaka alone about the matter — unless he decided to confide in you about it himself, in which case you wouldn’t be prying — you couldn’t stop thinking about it. Especially after that weird reaction Fuka gave you after you told her your guess about Shimizu. How she’s able to invite and hang out with you at a cafe like nothing has changed is beyond your scope of understanding. 

 

Seriously, she didn’t even order an extra large parfait like she usually does when she’s sad. Though to your surprise, she didn’t shy away at all from the topic of Tanaka or romance or volleyball or anything of the sort. The way she talked about it, you’d think she had put it all behind her and moved on already. And it had only been a couple of days since her confession. 

 

“Man… Tanaka-kun is so cool, you know? He was such a gentleman about it when he turned me down.” She sighs almost dreamily, scraping gently at her gelato with her spoon, “You’re so lucky, [Name]-chan.” 

 

“Me?” You blink away from your own slice of cake, “Why?”

 

“I-I just meant, as a friend, you know?” She follows up, eyes suddenly back on her gelato like it’s the most interesting thing in the room, “I’m impressed that you can be so cool around him. It’s a wonder you haven’t fallen for him too.” 

 

“Ah,” you chuckle softly, scraping at your own cake now, “Well, he’s a great guy and all, but not for me.” You lie through your teeth, swallowing the fib with your bite of red velvet. 

 

“Eh?? Why not?!” She shouts, surprising not just you, but several other patrons in the cafe. After a quick bow to the room, she turns back to you in a softer voice, “I mean, why not? If you think about it, you’re a much better fit for him than me, [Name]-chan.” 

 

That makes you furrow your eyebrows. “What makes you say that all of a sudden?” 

 

“Nothing! I just— I—“ She’s answering too quickly again. What the hell is going on? She seems to pick up that you’re onto her strange behavior, so she sits back in her chair with a sigh, “It came to me recently, [Name]-chan, that all this time I’ve been fawning over Tanaka-kun… I didn’t think about how you might have already been getting close to him because… you already liked him.” 

 

“What?!” You quickly bow to the rest of the cafe this time for being too loud, “That’s nonsense. Tanaka and I are really just friends, nothing more.” 

 

“That doesn’t mean you can’t have feelings for him too.” She shrugs, “And I was too caught up in what happened when he saved me that… I didn’t notice how happy and talkative you got whenever Tanaka-kun was around.” 

 

“That’s not— When have I ever…??” 

 

“Come on, [Name]-chan. I’ve already been turned down. You can tell me. I promise I won’t be upset.” 

 

You stare at her for a good few moments, wondering if you should take every word she’s saying at face value. Will there really be no repercussions for you being honest with your friend? Isn’t this too soon for her? Too soon for you ? Do you really want to face this… truth that you’ve been hiding from all this time? 

 

“Well, if you don’t like him, it’s not a big deal either.” She relents, “I just didn’t want you to keep it in if that’s how you really felt.” 

 

You want to feel relieved when she leaves it at that and returns to her softening gelato, but the truth of the matter is that you don’t. “No, Fuka-chan, wait…” 

 

She waits patiently as you take another breath, with a weird glint in her eye that resembles excitement. “I… You’re right. I think I like Tanaka.” 

 

“Uh huh?” She leans in. Really, why doesn’t she look so excited about this? 

 

“Well, we just got closer in such a rapid time frame. It was impossible for me not to see his good points, whether it was for volleyball, or helping me, or… my best friend.” How can you paraphrase that he played every part of your life exactly as you coached him to without complaint or compromise? “I avoided it for a long time. Maybe because you had already realized you liked him before I did, and I didn’t want to get in the way of what could have been a good thing.” 

 

“[Name]-cha—“ 

 

“No, it’s fine. It’s true.” You sigh again, “Even until now, I didn’t want to face the reality that I liked him. I haven’t even said it aloud until now.” 

 

She takes your hand in hers, smiling fondly at you, “Well, I’m proud of you then. It’s not always easy to admit that you like someone.” 

 

“Tell me about it,” you scoff, “You’re really amazing, Fuka-chan. While it took me this long to even admit it to myself, you’ve already gathered up the courage to go up to him and tell him how you feel.” 

 

“Well, I never felt that way about someone before.” She shrugs, “I felt like if I waited too long, I would go stir-crazy from holding it in. So now that I’ve told him, I feel a lot lighter.”

 

“Really? It was that easy?” 

 

“Well… no.” She admits, looking away for a moment, “Actually, the main reason I can be so accepting of this rejection is because of what Tanaka-kun told me. Like I said, he was a real gentleman about it.” 

 

“What did he tell you?” What could he have possibly said that would have your fragile-hearted, strawberry mochi of a friend bounce back so calmly from a heartbreak? 

 

“Mm… let’s just say that I support him and what he wants.” She smiles a fond, accepting smile, “Same goes for you. I’ll always support you, no matter what.” 

 

“Uhm, thanks, I guess.” You laugh, “That’s very mature.” 

 

“Well, you know me.” She flicks her hair back, making you laugh again. 

 

When you both finally leave the cafe, it’s in good spirits. You spend the remainder of the afternoon browsing through shops around town, spending more money than you should be, enjoying the full day to yourselves. At one point in a clothing shop, Fuka insists that you try on some bright sundresses, but when you refuse, she whines, “Whyyyy~? You tried them on last time! And you looked so cute!” 

 

“I did?” You wrack your memories for the last time you went shopping with Fuka and— Shoot, that must’ve been when Tanaka went with her. He didn’t know that you strayed away from girlier clothes at the time. You decide to be lenient today though, and try on the handful of dresses Fuka picks for you. It’s better than just standing outside waiting for her anyway. 

 

When you’re pulling your pants off to change, your phone falls out of your pocket. “Oops,” when you pick it up, you see on the lock screen that you have a message from Tanaka. 

 

Tanaka Ryunosuke [17:37]: ‘Hey, do you have time today? I have to tell you something’

 

You stare at the message with furrowed eyebrows for a few seconds, wondering what this could be about. You quickly text back asking when before pulling on the dress. You spend the next half hour in the store dressing up and down in different clothes, but nothing really looks good enough on you for you to buy. And while shopping, you agree to meet Tanaka after you’re done hanging out with Fuka in a few hours. 

 

“Who’re you talking to?” Fuka asks as she returns from the counter after paying for her purchase. 

 

“Hm?” You look up from your phone and tuck it away after sending the message, “Ah, it’s Tanaka. He says he wants to meet.” 

 

“What?? Today?! When?!” She bends down and looks up in excitement. 

 

“Uh… later tonight? When he’s done with practice and we’re done hanging out, I guess.” 

 

Then she grabs your arm, looking serious. “How. Much. Time.” 

 

“I don’t know! Like, two hours?” 

 

She shrieks, “Let’s go! There’s no time to dally around!!” 

 

“Wait— Fuka-chan?! Fuka-chan!” You shout as she drags you out of the store and to what you will soon realize, is your doom. 



*



Tanaka waits at the park bench with sweaty palms in his pockets and a rapidly increasing heartbeat as he thinks about what he’s going to say when he sees you. Asking you to come out here to meet him — after dark, even — was completely on whim after freaking Ennoshita of all people talked some sense, which snowballed into courage, into him. 

 

The entire training camp had turned into a tangled knot of drama and tension when Hinata made some big announcement about wanting to spike his signature quick with Kageyama without closing his eyes. And then there was that whole collision with Asahi and now the first-years are fighting and there’s all kinds of internal conflict going on in the team. 

 

And on top of all of that, Tanaka had girl problems tumbling into the mix. It had been impossible to keep quiet about his first declined confession to his teammates when they knew he had gone out to meet Fuka before the bus ride to Tokyo. They made that first hour into the commute an endlessly loud commotion, but as proud and envious and happy for him as his teammates were, he couldn’t help but feel torn about the whole thing. 

 

He spent a lot of the ride up staring out the window, thinking. Thinking about the confession, what he said after the confession, and how he would move forward from here. Because he knows, after having played volleyball for this long, that the only way to go is forward. 

 

He remembers how his heart would flip even when you would put moves on him back when you were in his body. He had assumed it was just an effect of the situation at the time, but there had been a fluttery, face-warming effect to it that he hadn’t understood. But as the days went on, and his heart started leaping higher in his chest when he saw you, it became clear to him what he was feeling for you. 

 

And the more unmistakable his feelings became, the more complicated the situation seemed to become, as you started avoiding him occasionally, making room for Fuka in the conversation, and altogether just pushing her towards him, he realized. And now he realizes you were probably doing that because your friend had a misinformed crush on him, now that she’s actually come out and confessed to him. 

 

What he didn’t understand, however, was why you would do that when you knew that her feelings weren’t built on genuine interaction. The whole reason Fuka started to “like” him was because you had saved her while in his body. Were you trying to encourage her to like him despite that? Did you think she’d grow to genuinely like him for him? Or maybe… you were diverting his attention to Fuka because you didn’t like him? 

 

That could be it. You didn’t like him and you didn’t want to hurt his feelings so you just avoided him and pushed Fuka towards him instead, hoping he’d start to like her? It was crazy logic, but not impossible. The prospect of it still hurts him though. Would you really go that far because you didn’t like him?? 

 

He had tried to shift his focus away from that during the training camp, but then everything snowballed downhill and practice back home has still been tense. Not just for the first-years, but for everyone. He’s been doing his best to keep the mood up, but even he has his limits when his mind is filled with complicated thoughts about you. 

 

To his surprise, that’s when Ennoshita had popped up during individual practice and questioned him, since apparently he wasn’t acting himself. 





“It’s about [Surname], isn’t it.” He had stated rather than asked. 

 

“When the hell did you start addressing her without an honorific, Ennoshita you bastard??” He had shouted back. 

 

“So it is.” The fellow second-year confirmed. “Let me guess: You’re afraid to tell her how you feel because her best friend just confessed to you.” 

 

“T-That’s— The hell do you know, man?? I never said that.” 

 

“Tanaka, I saw her helping you practice before that practice match against Tomiya. I’ve never seen a girl genuinely happy to be around you before. You usually scare them off early with a creepy nose flare or immediate declaration of love.” 

 

“What?!” He saw that? That was still when you were both in each other’s bodies. But… he had a point. Switched or not, happiness was hard to mistake when it was caught candidly. “That was when we were— when I was in my slump. She was just helping me. I don’t know how she actually feels.” He admitted with a sigh. 

 

Ennoshita pats him on the shoulder with one hand, “Well, if it was possible for one girl to develop feelings and confess to you, who says it’s impossible for another girl to like you?” 

 

“What was that?!” Tanaka yelled. 

 

“But from what I’ve seen between you two, I’d say it’s worth a shot.” He had left it at that to return to his practice. 




So after a burst of guts led him to send a message asking you to meet, he’s been waiting at this park bench for an hour now, thinking over and over what he’ll saying to you when you arrive. It’s approaching the designated time you said you’d come, and he’s got a vague idea of what he could say to you. Whether he can actually follow it through is another question. 

 

“Tanaka?” Your voice calls from a few meters away. 

 

Shit. You’re early. 

 

He doesn’t know if he feels dizzy because he stood up far too quickly, or because you look absolutely drop-dead beautiful. You’re wearing a baby-blue, button-down shirt dress, cinched at the waist with a thin, brown belt. Your hair is tied down along one shoulder in a flattering braid, and you’re wearing sandals and wrist accessories that match your belt. It’s a very mature ensemble that he has definitely never seen you in before, but is very fitting. And so very beautiful. 

 

“H-Hi!” He manages to choke out as you approach, “You look very beautiful!” He blurts out naturally, too used to shouting out compliments to his manager. 

 

“T-Thanks!” You shout back, your cheeks flushing. That’s when he notices you’re wearing a small touch of makeup too. “Fuka-chan wanted me to be dressed up when I met you for some reason.” 

 

“Ah…” He chuckles shyly. Fuka-chan!!! Such a sweet girl!!! “Well, uh, you want to have a seat?” 

 

“Okay,” you agree, sitting on the bench first without a beat. Tanaka just follows your action slowly, trying to buy just a few more seconds of mental prep time. 

 

However, it seems he let those seconds drag out too long, because you’ve broken the silence first, “So how was the training camp? Did you get to see Tokyo Tower or anything?” 

 

“No… we saw some regular transmission towers though. We’ll see the real thing next time! Maybe…” 

 

“‘Maybe’? What’s the point of going to Tokyo if you’re not going to see some cool capital city things?” You scoff playfully. 

 

“It was a training camp! Plus we weren’t really in the city. We were in Saitama. But it was a freaking killer weekend.” Before he knows it, he’s fallen into casual conversation with you almost too easily. By the time he realizes it, he’s been chatting and laughing with you for twenty minutes. And he only realizes he’s gotten off track because you bring it up first.

 

“So what did you want to tell me about anyway?” 

 

“Oh, right!” Shit. He got so caught up that he’d practically forgotten his entire purpose in basically summoning you here. Though strangely enough, he almost wishes he could put it off for just a while longer… He didn’t realize it before, but he’s missed this. Just sitting and talking with you like there’s nothing else to think about. 

 

But no, he has to go through with this. He has to just take a deep breath and— 

 

“I like you!” 

 

FUCK. 

 

Fuck . Fuck. Fuck .

 

“Heh?” Your jaw falls a bit. 

 

“No, wait. Shit. Sorry. I didn’t mean that. No, wait! I did! But like, not like that! No— I mean—! Can I start again?!” Tanaka splutters to organize all those thoughts he had so carefully organized before this. Where are they now?? Why didn’t he put them in a binder or something?! 

 

“O-Okay.” You agree. 

 

“Really?! Okay!” He scrambles again, clearing his throat excessively to buy just a little more time. Before he takes a deep, calming breath and settles for, “No, actually. Yeah, I like you.” 

 

You blink at him cutely for a few more seconds before bursting, “What?! Tanaka, what the hell are you saying right now?!”

 

“You heard me. It’s that simple.” His heart is beating, but his head feels this strange wave of calm settle through his body, ironic as that is. Like he’s getting himself back together for a tough rally. “Look… I’ve been trying to wait for the right time to tell you this, which has been hard even before what happened with Fuka-chan. And… I don’t exactly know what your feelings are, but I can’t keep drawing this out anymore. We’ve been tiptoeing around it since before we even switched back.” 

 

“What do you mean by that?” 

 

“[Surname], I like you. I’m pretty sure I started liking you when we switched, when you would go to all my practices for me, and be kind to my family, and take up all my responsibilities despite how hard they were. Honestly, I couldn’t ever ask any girl to do for me what you did, or expect them to work as hard at it as you did.”

 

“Of course I did, Tanaka. How could I not when you were doing the exact same thing for me? It only made sense.” You reply softly, though you’re not looking directly at him, which makes him hopeful that you’re still willing to listen to what he has to say. 

 

“It’s not just that though! I know that the switch turned our lives upside-down for a while. But I’m actually really glad it happened, because I got a chance to get to know you. Even after we switched back, I can’t think of anything I’d rather be doing than sitting here on this bench talking with you.” 

 

You bring your hand to your chest with a dramatic gasp, “What about volleyball?!”

 

He wants to be serious about this, but he can’t stop his face from lighting up at your humorous tug at the conversation, “I can’t play volleyball properly if all I’m doing is thinking about you.” 

 

“T-Tanaka!” That stops you, bringing out that slightly tsundere side of you that he enjoys seeing. The cute, shy side that occasionally pops out from within your fearless, capable personality. A part of you that only Fuka and he have really come to know and cherish, and that he kind of wants to keep for himself. 

 

The entire scene is so sweet, absolutely everything he could have ever wanted out of a shoujo manga type of confession: the sky fading in hues of orange and purple, your pretty face slightly framed by the shadows of the leaves and branches of the tree you’re sitting under, and the tint of red that swells brighter and deeper along your face and ears as you listen to him. All he could possibly need is an answer from you — preferably in the form of you hiding your face in your hands and returning his feelings. 

 

“I thought you turned Fuka-chan down because you liked Shimizu-san.” 

 

It’s like he can hear the car tires screeching before shattering through his thoughts and expectations when you say that. “What? What made you think that?” 

 

“You told Fuka-chan that you liked someone else, so I just assumed it was Shimizu-san since Nishinoya-kun would always expect me to gush with him about her.”

 

“I told Fuka-chan that I liked you.” He admits slowly, softly. 

 

“You— You told her— And she— Wait a minute.” You turn forward in your seat and put your fingers to your temples, collecting your thoughts. “Fuka-chan knew??”

 

He gives you another moment, in which you seem to be piecing everything together on your own. “Is that why she made me get all dressed up? Did she know what you were going to tell me tonight?!” 

 

“No, I didn’t tell her about tonight. But I guess she made a good assumption.” Tanaka smiles with a shrug. 

 

“But— But she… And you… But Fuka-chan likes you.” You say.

 

“Maybe. But I like you.” Tanaka says back. 

 

“Why?” 

 

Tanaka sighs because you look like you genuinely don’t have an idea why he would like you. Or maybe in your mind, choose you over Fuka, who you’ve always thought of as the more desirable out of you two. “I could write a book of reasons, but I guess if I had to completely over summarize it, I’d say it’s because I like being with you. I know I don’t have a lot of experience with girls, but I know that I’ve never enjoyed being around anyone as much as I have with you.”

 

You still don’t seem to get it judging by the look on your face, so he continues, “You’re smart, passionate, confident, funny, kind, your laugh is beautiful, your face is beautiful, and I’ve been in your body long enough to know it’s beautiful beyond words. And just… I can’t help it, it was just natural for me to start liking you after a while.” 

 

You’re looking down at your hands in your lap and pressing your lips together, and Tanaka is starting to get nervous. He’s said pretty much everything he needed to say, and he was pretty confident earlier. He hadn’t even tried to fathom what would happen if you rejected him, which he’s starting to worry more about now that you won’t even look at him. Do you really not like him back?? Oh god, he must look pathetic then.

 

“But uh… if you don’t feel the same, I understand.” He sits back. 

 

There’s a thick silence for a good minute or so, which honestly feels like it’s stretched into a few weeks already in Tanaka’s head. So when you finally decide to speak again, he feels like he can finally take a breath, “I do like you.” 

 

“You do?!” He shouts before he can stop himself, “I mean— sorry. Go on.” He means to stop then, but he can’t help the second outburst either “But you do?!” 

 

You chuckle and nod down at your lap, “I do… And, if Fuka-chan knew and still did all this for me,” You gesture down at yourself, “Then I’m guessing she’s okay with it.” 

 

“Looks like it.” Tanaka tries to keep his cool this time. 

 

“But is it really okay?” You sigh, “Won’t Fuka-chan be hurt if I start going out with the boy she confessed to? Wouldn’t that make me a bad friend?” 

 

That one takes Tanaka a moment, since he doesn’t want to give you an answer that sounds like he’s pushing his own agenda, but he also doesn’t want you to make your decision for others. “You know, in volleyball, we’re faced with decisions to make at every second. And any decision we make can lead to any outcome, we can never predict how it’ll turn out. Will my spike go through? Will it be in bounds? Will I get blocked? Should I pass? Which spot on the court gives me the best shot? Who else might be in a better position to score right now? There’s a lot to take into account, and even with tons of practice, you never know what’s going to happen. And I’m rambling a lot right now but…” 

 

Tanaka had been speaking more and more rapidly as he went on. Maybe the volleyball metaphor wasn’t the best way to go about this. “Anyway, whatever decision we make has endless possible outcomes. But I’d like to think that we trust ourselves — and our team — enough to at least be confident in them.” 

 

You seem to need another moment, but to his delight, you scoot closer to him. And finally, you look at him!!! Full in the face!! Though you’re a bit shorter than him so he has to tilt his head down. “Okay. Then… I’ll be confident enough to keep liking you.” 

 

“Really?!” Tanaka grabs your hand in his before thinking about it. Maybe he should work on controlling his impulses more, but he can’t control how goddamn happy he is right now. Because if you’re saying what he thinks you’re saying… 

 

“Really.” You nod, flit your eyes away for a moment, then look back up at him, “Can I kiss you?” 

 

“O-Oh! Uhm— okay, hold on. Can I—“ You don’t wait for him to get that piece of gum he was reaching for, just bring his face down to press your lips against his. Just like you had once before in hopes of catalyzing some sort of body switch magic. 

 

If he’s truly honest, he had enjoyed it then. But now that he’s in his own body, facing you in your own body, actually getting to feel your lips with his own, this is really exponentially better. Your lips are soft, your hands are small, your skin is plush, your body is warm, and Tanaka can envelop all of it in his own arms.

 

What he thought was heaven before when he was frolicking around in your body? Really just another plane of earth compared to how it feels to be able to scoop you into his arms and kiss you with all his might. He’s not at all experienced, and all his adolescent years pining after the idea of girls and having a cute girlfriend has probably wound up his body with all the young teenage boy emotions and hormones to the point of implosion. 

 

He realizes that he’s gripping you a little too tightly when you pull away, gasping for breath and asking to be let go. “Sorry! Shit, sorry! Oh my god, I’m sorry.” He practically throws you back across the bench and scurries to his own side to give you space. 

 

“It’s okay.” You laugh, turning back to him but not moving from your spot, “Do you want to try again?” 

 

Tanaka’s face lights up and his heart jumps high in his chest as he returns to your side, wrapping you back in his arms and leaning in to kiss you once more. 




***




It is absolute agony having to wait until the post-game ceremonies are over for you to run up and congratulate the team. But when it’s your turn, you all but sprint down the stairs to meet them on their way out. Actually, you’re also kind of screaming as you run up to them and body slam your boyfriend with flight and force that would make Nishinoya proud. 

 

Luckily for the both of you, Tanaka was prepared for this, and he managed to divert your momentum by catching you and spinning you in the air once before coming to a stop. “You made it to nationals!! Again!!! I can’t believe it, you guys are so amazing!!” 

 

“Ryu!!! You were way too cool out there!!” Saeko joins in on the hug and laughs and gushes with you, to Tanaka’s discomfort. But he seems happy about it anyway, especially when Fuka comes up to offer her own congratulations to him and the rest of the team. 

 

“Wow, Ryu. You’ve turned out to be quite the ladies’ man, haven’t cha??” Saeko punches him in the chest after you’ve relinquished him from your hold. “Look at all these cute girls running up to you! [Name]-chan here was so loud during the game.”

 

“I— No, that’s not—!!” He’s immediately pink. It’s hilarious to you how Tanaka used to vie for this kind of attention from girls, but he turns into a blubbering mess once he actually gets it. 

 

“You’re the one who brought the taiko team, Saeko-san.” You quip back, laughing amiably with her. Even when you were back in Tanaka’s body, you got along with the girl. But after you had been officially introduced to her as yourself, you got along like soul sisters. She and everyone else took spectacularly to the news about you two. 

 

You and Tanaka hadn’t been dating for that long when the team first found out. It was probably right before the team was going to leave for nationals in Tokyo last year that some of the club members caught you two swapping spit behind the gym. And maybe a month after that when Saeko caught you two making out in his room. And the following week was when you were introduced to the rest of the Tanaka family when — you guessed it — they caught you kissing by his house and they happened to be back home. Funnily enough, every situation involved a lot of tears, though none of them sad in the least. 

 

At least everyone in Tanaka’s circle is that happy for him. Your family was… less enthusiastic when they met him, since he still has that delinquent look about him. They’ve come around slowly. You just have to remind them every now and then that he’s nicer than he looks in photos. And in person. 

 

Though none of that has made it easier for you to make out wherever you want. It’s hard to help though, since Tanaka practically begs for affection like a puppy and you can’t resist how starkly adorable he becomes in front of you. Seeing this loud, potty-mouthed, yankii-looking, aggressive power spiker get shy and whiny for your attention obviously makes you want to kiss him!! 

 

And kiss him you do. You save the longest and warmest of kisses for late nights in his room. You’re not above sneaking into his room to spend the night, and Saeko loves you so much that she doesn’t blink when she catches you two together anymore. Which happens more often than you’d like to admit, considering she doesn’t really knock and Tanaka’s sliding door has no lock. 

 

You’ve got a lot to celebrate tonight though, so you’re not going to let anything stop you from congratulating your boyfriend properly for his win. You’re already sitting on his bedroom floor when he’s returned from the celebratory team dinner. And to your delight, he drops all his stuff and collapses into your lap to kiss and hug you upon his return. 

 

After several long, slow, increasingly heated kisses, Tanaka finally pulls away long enough to rest his forehead on yours and say in a husky groan, “Hi.” 

 

“Hi.” You smile, pushing back up to kiss him again. 

 

“You look beautiful.” He glances down at your patterned navy dress. It’s tighter at the torso but has a flowy skirt, and most importantly, it’s easy to take off.

 

“Thank you. And you played so well today, my cool ace boyfriend.” You lay it on thick with the compliments, and just as you expected, he’s blushing and coughing and looking anywhere but at you as he tries to pretend to be modest. 

 

“It was nothing that a man like me can’t accomplish.” He clears his throat, still not looking at you. 

 

“Mmm? But there is no man like you.” You coo, caressing his face and feeling for yourself how much warmer he gets. “There is not a man in this world who is as cool as Tanaka Ryunosuke.” 

 

He groans, unable to take any more praise as he lifts you by the thighs up to lie you on his futon. Then he just rests his weight on top of you as he hides his red face into your neck with lots of kisses. “What did I do to deserve you?” 

 

“The same thing you did to make it to nationals a second year in a row: you worked so hard.” You stroke his head down to his neck, again and again, rewarding him with every form of affection you know. “And now, your hard work has paid off. You’re going to Tokyo. Again!”

 

He sighs happily into your neck before lifting his head to look down at you, taking in the sight of you lying so pretty on top of his bed, hair fanned out on his pillow, and looking up at him with the proudest, most loving grin. “I’m so happy.” He confesses, “I’m so, so happy. And having you with me makes everything even better.” 

 

He leans down to leave a long, tender kiss on your lips, taking part of your soul to blend with his, “I love you.” 

 

“Mhm,” you agree, “And I love you.” 

 

There are a few more loving words exchanged between you two as you begin to peel each other’s clothes off layer by layer, but you’re only half listening to them. All you’re paying attention to is your strong, built boyfriend and his smooth, tanned skin. You want as much of it under your hands as you can touch. 

 

This time, you’re seated on his lap, pushed as close to his chest as you can be. He bends his neck back to press more kisses to your mouth, and you rub his shoulders as you kiss back, melting at how smooth his skin is. He’s still a little musky since he played a long match and hasn’t showered yet, but you don’t mind. You want to share your own joy for his victory with him as soon as possible. 

 

So you make sure to keep running your hands all over his back, chest, arms, abs — especially his abs — thighs, neck, sides, anything you can touch to show him how eager you are to worship him tonight. “You’re so sexy, Ryu-kun.” You giggle when he licks and nips at your neck, and he groans his response. 

 

“You’re one to talk, beautiful.” 

 

Tanaka has shown to be a delicate, catering lover throughout your relationship. He loves you beyond the moon and because he’s not always the best with his words, he makes sure to show you thoroughly with his actions and affections. He’s taken as much pride in learning all the sweet spots on your body as he has in his powerful straight spike. 

 

His hands lay gently but firmly on your hips as he kisses his way across the expanse of your shoulders and collar. Though he loves your breasts too much to leave them alone for too long, so he moves one hand up to squeeze and massage at one while he takes the nipple of the other into his mouth. You sigh as his tongue flicks and presses around your breast and he moves in on your clit with his other thumb. Even at the sweet, languid pace he’s moving his thumb on you, he’s learned quite well how to stroke you into flames so that your entire body warms up from center to tips. 

 

His hand is big enough to cover the expanse of your thigh even with his thumb tucked between your legs, and he presses into your skin and muscle, clearly in love with the texture and thickness of it against his palm. The hand that’s on your breast has started pinching and his mouth on the other has been nipping for a while now. Your lower lips have been pooling more and more wetness despite not yet having been touched yet, and you’re all but throbbing for Tanaka to put something in you. 

 

“Agh, Ryu…” You gasp, hugging his neck to keep him pressed against your chest as you start bucking your hips into his finger. “A little lower…” 

 

He heeds your call and slides his long fingers across your upper thigh to bring them to caress up your slit. He hums happily at your wetness, smiling proudly to himself as if he’s won another trophy, to which you whine childishly back in embarrassment. He comes up to kiss away the pout on your face, even making his way across your cheek to whisper in your ear, “You’re so wet.” He says predictably, as if it wasn’t already obvious that you’re becoming a dripping, whiny mess for him. 

 

“I know…” You mutter, still pouting. 

 

“So, what do you want me to do?” He shows you the smirk that really gets your pussy throbbing for him, and your next breath trembles as you suck it in. 

 

No matter how many times you’ve slept with your boyfriend, you still get pretty shy and embarrassed when it comes to sexual teases. A drastic reversal of your relationship dynamic outside open doors. You’ve usually been the caretaker, more confident in who you are and what you want, reassuring Tanaka about one thing or other. But all that melts away when you basically turn into a baby in your boyfriend’s arms, whining and crying for love. 

 

Inversely, Tanaka’s usual blushy personality in public, when you take him by the hand or surprise him with a kiss or you do anything even remotely romantic, gets swallowed up by his striking uptake of confidence when he manages to make you moan and come. He’s become a master of the slow tease, more than willing to take his time to watch you come undone by and for him. 

 

“Mmm…” You whine again, feeling stupid as you do so but unable to help the super submissive reaction that comes right out of you. You just coax him into moving further by rubbing at his neck, gently caressing up behind his ears with your fingers. You know a few spots of your own. 

 

The shiver you feel move through Tanaka’s body is rewarding, and he even lets up a little on the teasing. His fingers start dipping into the folds of your slit as they curl forward, “Like this?” He murmurs in a criminally low voice, “You like that?” 

 

“Yea…” 

 

“Yeah? You want more?” He presses his forehead against yours, making it only slightly harder to see the pure delight in his smile. 

 

“Yes.” 

 

So through little exchanges like that, Tanaka’s fingers tickle their way deeper into your folds, dipping in and out of the entrance of your sweet, tight, wet cunt. He’s got an arm wrapped around your waist to support you as you start to bounce a little on his fingers. “Ryu… Ryu…!!” Your small shouts pick up speed as you climb closer to climax, unable to think of much more to say as you reach it. 

 

“Yes, yes. Come for me, baby. You’re so pretty when you come for me.” He encourages you, curling and stretching his fingers inside of you to trigger your pleasure spots and bring you to high heaven. His thumb starts flexing around on your clit to drive you absolutely insane. 

 

“Oh— Oh!!” You cry out when you come, throwing your head back and hugging Tanaka’s face into your chest as you ride out your high on his fingers. Your walls close in around his fingers, liking the squeeze, but needing something more. “Ah… Ah… ah.” 

 

When he pulls his fingers out and brings them up to his mouth, you slap them away and take his mouth for your own. His slight surprise brings his hands back to your hips, leaving your own cum to smear down along your side. You kiss and kiss him until you can find your center again, with a calmer heartbeat and more air in your lungs. Though it’s not easy, taking into consideration how good of a kisser Tanaka has become. 

 

So you try to distract him from teasing you further by taking his hard length into your palm and stroking. He curses in a blissful sigh, leaning back on his hands on the futon as you climb out of his lap and lie on your stomach between his legs. There is no way Tanaka’s victory would be complete without some congratulatory head, so you make yourself comfortable as you start with a small lick. 

 

Starting at the top, you wrap your lips around just the head and suck, dragging your lips back until they close back together at the very tip. After giving the tip a swirl with your tongue and a slight dig into the slit, you repeat the action. Suck at the head and drag your lips to the top like he’s your favorite flavor of candy. Then again. Lick up the length of his shaft. And again. Take him an inch deeper, drag back up again. 

 

You go through this sequence and switch it up with a lick or suck at his balls or somewhere else on his cock for a good couple minutes, glancing at Tanaka’s pink face every now and then to see his patience has yet to crumble. Fine by you, you’re ready to do this until your jaw falls off tonight. You’re going to spoil him properly for scoring the big win, treat him so well that he won’t be able to stop bragging about you and how well you suck him off to all his friends. 

 

Honestly, this facet to sex is more your forte. You get to show off how talented you are, and since your mouth is stuffed with cock, you won’t be able to let anything embarrassing slip out. And you can tell that Tanaka absolutely revels in it. He tries to make sex as pleasurable for you as possible, but he can’t turn you away when you bring yourself to your knees for him. 

 

You can’t ever forget the first time you gave Tanaka head. You weren’t very good at it yet, but the experience was so novel and fantastical to him that he actually blacked out for a short minute. You know CPR but that didn’t stop your concern from coming out to slap him in the face several times to wake him up. It was so comical that you only save it for the most special occasions to use as ammo. 

 

Look how far he’s come now though. Just sitting back on his futon, relaxed with legs spread wide, just watching you torture him with the softest ribbon caresses of pleasure like he has all night. He even brings a hand down to pet your head, letting you know how good of a job you’re doing. Even when you start to take his entire length into your mouth, he just lets you do as you please — though you do notice a strain in his grip as he’s doing his best to keep his hips at bay. 

 

As much as you’d like to take it a step further and have him begging to fuck your mouth already, you will yourself to keep the pace. You take him down to the back of your throat, letting your lips skim the surface of his hips where it meets the hilt of his cock, and slide right back up, taking your sweet ass time. A low hum passes through your throat into his dick and Tanaka’s legs shudder around you, “Fuck…” 

 

He actually does beg for it a couple of times, but you’re merciless, and you make him wait until you’ve milked him to a most satisfying completion — an orgasm that lasts up to a minute, with the help of the aftershocks guided by your tongue and mouth. And there’s not a drop to tell the tale. He had come in slower, thicker leaks that allowed you to swallow from him like sips from a glass of wine. 

 

His voice drags out as long as his cum did, and you have half a mind to ask if he’s just exaggerating. But then again, you did just spend a good half of the last hour building him up and pushing him to some limits any lesser men wouldn’t be able to withstand. 

 

Crawling back to the center of his legs, you come up to your knees for another long kiss. Tanaka pulls his hands forward to hold your face to him throughout the duration of it, kissing you like you taste even better than before. It’s slow-winding, romantic. Everything about this and Tanaka himself just blooms with appreciation and love for you, making it clear that he wants to enjoy this, to savor you and all that you are to him. 

 

For how straightforward and quick he is to jump to conclusions in volleyball and just about anything else, he’s learned to take his sweet time with you. And you kind of like that maturity about him in the bedroom, so you deal with all of the questionable looks you get when Tanaka makes a scene about something or other. Just so you can keep it like a little secret to yourself. Because goodness knows that it’s no one’s business what Tanaka’s tongue does inside your mouth.

 

Before long, your boyfriend’s big hand is sliding down the length of your thigh to hook behind the back of your knee to drag it around his waist. He does the same for your other leg, effectively spreading you across his hips and lowering you to be closer for him to kiss. You moan softly as he drags his hands up and down your back, imprinting a heat along your skin as he peppers his lips across his collar again. 

 

“God, I love you so much.” He groans, rubbing at your thighs again, unable to get enough of the milky smoothness. 

 

“I love you too.” You hum with a coy smile, tilting your hips up for him. So he follows your lead and uses his hand to gently push the head of his newly hardened cock through your folds. The remaining length, he’ll let you sit on yourself. Just having the tip in makes you excited beyond belief, since he wasn’t the only one being built up during the blow job. So you sink down on him with a moan that reveals how long you’ve actually been waiting for this. 

 

Tanaka moans too, resting his face in your chest for a breath — though you have plenty of reason to believe he’s just there because he enjoys it — and getting accustomed to the hot pleasure of your tightness. You take your time too, because even though Tanaka isn’t much larger than average in size, what he does with it goes beyond your comprehension of how to use a dick to fuck your woman. So you know you’ll be in for it if you don’t quickly make yourself comfortable with the stretch. 

 

You start first, bringing your arms around his neck as a foundation as you roll and ride him out slowly. His hands stay obediently at your hips as he watches you move on top of him, his eyes drowned in lust and awe. Your wetness coats him in a smooth layer to slip around, making it easier for you to slide his cock in faster and deeper, and make your thighs burn at the effort. 

 

It feels like he gets thicker and hotter inside of you as you keep bouncing, and it warms you from the inside out, turning your chest and cheeks pink. A thin layer of sweat forms all over your skin, and your knees are screaming for you to give out, but you keep bouncing, keep riding. Partly because you can clearly feel your peak coming, but mostly because you can tell much Tanaka fucking loves seeing you on top of him like this: in such love and in need of his dick that you’ll turn yourself into a panting, sweaty, blushing mess for him. 

 

“Ryu…” You whine, starting to slow because maybe your knees had a point. 

 

And like he read your mind, you don’t have to say another word more, because Tanaka presses you to his chest and rolls over to lie you down on his futon. “Babe, you’re so good to me.” He kisses you, pushing himself back inside you in a last, achingly slow rut. 

 

It’s the last of that pace you’ll enjoy for night, because once Tanaka picks up speed, he doesn’t slow down again. And you absolutely love it. Tanaka’s body, trained and built from years of volleyball, is lean and smooth in the perfect proportion. And though you can’t see it on the court, his hips are probably one of the most powerful parts of it. He thrusts into you so deep and so hard, it’s almost like a punch. 

 

He has to hold your shoulders down in order to keep you from flying off of his futon as he just pounds and hammers into you without a hint of mercy. You had long ago told him to do away with it, because when he finally lets go of all his restraint and patience, that truly carnal and needy side of him comes out and loves you more intensely than you can even remember sometimes. 

 

You take it all with encouraging pleads and your legs wrapped around his waist. His dark eyes, his intense expression, his deep growl, his bruising grip, his unstoppable strength, his blinding speed, and his thick cock that moves so fast and hard inside of you that you can’t keep up with when he’s there and when he isn’t. “R-Ryu!! Agh-gh!! Yes, yes .” Your voice trembles not from your own pleasure, but from his jackhammering speed that shakes your throat like you have hiccoughs. 

 

It’s beyond you how he can go at this pace, hitting spots inside of you over and over again, and still somehow keep you hostage for orgasm for longer than usual. Are you just that worked up? Or does he just know your body that well? He pounds into you for twice as long as he usually does before you actually start to feel it coming, effectively dragging out your pleading and tortured cries. He tells you he knows, he knows, but why isn’t he doing anything about it? 

 

Until he finally does angle himself a little lower to hit you harder, higher, right in the spot that sends stars into your eyes. You cry out something — you really can’t hear yourself at this point — and he says, “Wait for me. Wait and come with me.” 

 

You whine, wanting anything but that, but loosen your stomach muscles anyway to relieve some of the tension you had been working so hard to build. He thrusts and thrusts and thrusts until finally, finally he kisses you and brings a hand to your clit to carries you back along the path to orgasm again. And it hits you almost too quickly — you don’t even remember it coming. You’re just suddenly swallowed and drowned by a tidal wave of pleasure like you’ve been swimming in it this entire time. 

 

If you were in your right mind, you’d be really apologetic to Saeko right now if she’s still in the house, because your voice is coming out in volumes and tones that you don’t even recognize as your own. However, you’re floating in a bed of clouds that muffle all your other thoughts right now. Firm, tan, sinewy clouds that wrap around your body and hug you close and coat you in the smell of sweat and victory and satisfaction. 

 

Tanaka’s cloudy arms hold you to him as he rolls onto his back and leaves your weight to rest on top of him. He always loves a long cuddle, even though sometimes you end up regretting the mess afterwards. But today, you’ll stay with him as long as he wants, “Congrats on the win, babe.” You kiss him again. 

 

He kisses you back with a satisfied chuckle, “I’m already a winner.” 



 

Notes:

istg i love fuka-chan, okay? she's gonna be fine.

catch me on Tumblr raving over s4 and probably natsuya

Chapter 16: Terushima Yuuji - Crashing Here Tonight

Summary:

You're the new kid in town and an unfortunate turn of events leaves you stuck living with that annoying volleyball captain, Terushima.

aka an interpretation of the roommates trope

Notes:

hello everyone, surprised to see me? me too ngl. hope you've all been enjoying haikyuu as much as i have these days. s4 is full of snacks and the manga is just driving me into a collision of emotions. and oof have you been feeling as blessed about this hq fic influx as i have? (praise all you writers for feeding us, and the readers who encourage us)

anyway, this terushima fic was meant to be a smaller and easier project for me to work on compared to all my other monsters waiting in the dungeon to be written. was it naive of me to believe i'd make it under 30k? perhaps. but i only got up to around 34k this time, so we don't have to be as overwhelmed as usual. admittedly, it doesn't feel as flushed out as it could be, but i think this is an appropriate pace for a character like terushima with this kind of plot timeline.

there's some underage drinking here, and little bit of tragedy, but that's about it, so i'll get out of your way. remember to LOVE JOHZENJI!!!

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

All the good aspects of moving to a completely new city apply to pretty much no one but the person who is the reason why you’re moving — in this case, it would be your dad who decided to take a job transfer to a branch of his company in another prefecture of the country. And for a multitude of good reasons: one) Promotion to a higher, senior position which allows him to learn more and improve on his current work, two) much better pay than he was previously getting at his old job at the same company for pretty much the same amount of work, three) a chance to manage and train employees, which is his preferred role after having been loyal to this company for so many years, and four) he gets to escape from all the assholes who undermined and took advantage of him at his old office and department. 

 

In your honest opinion, your dad deserves all of these things, and to be recognized for all of his hard work that he’s broke his back and come home late and overlooked his health for in the past decade that he’s been working for this company. He deserves the promotion, the pay, the respect, and more. But for you — a mere high schooler who knows no life other than the one you’ve been in since you were a baby, who has no other friends outside of your small district in central Kobe, who had to give up all of your favorite people, places, and things in order to follow your dad as he fulfills his dreams of promotion in a completely different part of the country — you can’t say you were 100% thrilled when you heard the news. 

 

Your mom had a similar reaction as you did; happy for dad but also sad for herself. She is incredibly social so she left behind a bunch of friends from all her community circles too. Not to mention the part time job at that bakery she really grew to like. But as she told you, “Jobs and friends will be available no matter where we go, but home is always where your family is.” 

 

So you all sucked it up and packed away your lives into cardboard boxes to move them all to a city in Miyagi Prefecture. The timing wasn’t all too bad since it was during summer break, so even though you were starting school in the middle of the year, it was at least after a long break where everyone hadn’t seen each other in a while. It made you feel slightly less intimidated than starting in the middle of the semester. 

 

It’s been about three weeks now since you’ve started at this new school, Johzenji High, and you haven’t had it too hard. It took about a week for everyone in your class to really warm up to you — you tried your goddamned hardest to participate in class and home room meetings to try to fit in — and after you joined the orchestra club, you started getting more familiar with people and learning names. You were actually hoping to join the basketball club, but they weren’t accepting new team members at this point in the year, so you settled for the club where you at least had some previous skill to work with. 

 

To your luck though, it hasn’t stopped you from befriending members of the basketball club. You would often try to finish your lunch early so you could ask to join in on the games other students played during lunch hour. You would’ve preferred to play with the girls more often, but it’s usually the boys who make the time to play during lunch — especially when the summer heat is still lingering. So on the days that no one specifically asks you to join them to eat lunch, you would just spend your hour by the outdoor basketball courts and join in with whoever was there playing after you finished your meal. 

 

The whole thing has worked out so far, and you’ve made yourself a more common presence among different social circles now, thanks to all your efforts. You’d like to say you have a couple closer friends after these few weeks; you discuss homework and hobbies with a couple girls in your class, you walk home with one or two members of the orchestra club, and you eat lunch with your basketball buddies.

 

However, there has been one thing that’s been annoying you since you’ve gotten here. 

 

“Woo~” Comes a whistle from somewhere off the basketball court, “Nice shot, New Kid!” 

 

The proud smile you had from dropping that three-pointer just at first falls from your face into a small scowl when you hear that voice approaching. When the owner of the voice appears at your side to clap you on the back like he’s your good friend, you jolt. “Loved the view too,” he lets his hand slide down your spine, real close to your butt before letting his touch graze off the small of your back. 

 

You freeze at his touch only to gather your senses against to push him away with a disgusted grunt. He just smiles back and walks up to his friends that you were playing basketball with to greet them. 

 

That stupid volleyball captain. He’s been hitting on you since your first week of school. At first, it was just noticeable glances in the hallway, since you were still a new face, and probably the talk of the school for a short bit of time, so you pegged it as another curious student. But as everyone else’s eyes got used to your presence and eventually stopped, his gazes got noticeably flirtier each time you saw him. He never said a thing to you since you were usually going in opposite directions during very short passing periods, but when you started playing basketball at lunch, he stopped by a few times. 

 

The first time, he had caught a ball that had bounced off court and threw a pickup line at you when you went to retrieve it from him. You had only given him a horrified look before stealing the ball back and running back to the court. Only to be embarrassingly introduced to the guy by your basketball friends when he actually walked up to the court. “Terushima Yuuji, but you can call me tonight.” He had wiggled his eyebrows at you.

 

Again, you only threw him a horrified look before looking to the others for help, but they only laughed and playfully hit Terushima to get him to stop. Since he was friends with your basketball buddies, you simply put on a polite face and tried to ignore his rude smirking thereafter. 

 

You thought it would get better after that, but honestly, he hasn’t stopped throwing promiscuous and flirty looks at you every time you run into him. Since you’re still new, you don’t retaliate simply because you don’t think it’d be wise to make enemies this early on, but it’s still annoying. You know his type though, and that he sends the same looks to pretty much any other pretty girl that crosses his path. A typical playboy who’s always got a friend or two in tow to save him in case his pride is in jeopardy, so you don’t bother to take any of his advances seriously. 

 

Not that it’s too hard to ignore him since you have a boyfriend back home. It helps when you really feel an urge to slap the volleyball captain in the face because you know that Arata would not be proud of you if he found out. 

 

God, you miss him. He was one of the reasons that made the move especially hard on you. After some whining and tears, you both agreed to make it work long distance. You would visit him during the winter vacation and you’d call each other at least once a week. Which you have been doing since you got here. Despite how busy you were with the move and getting settled in, you would at least text him every day and you’d both make time during the weekends and occasionally during a weekday night to catch up through video call. 

 

It’s one of the best parts of your week, honestly. Even though you’re doing relatively well here at this new school in this new city, you still miss home. You miss your boyfriend, your friends, your favorite restaurants and stores, the familiarity. This is your new home now, but it doesn't feel like it just yet… So calling Arata every weekend is a nice familiar comfort that you look forward to. 

 

This weekend, during your call, he’s as handsome as ever. His wavy black hair and pretty green eyes set him apart from the rest of the boys at your school, and his sweet tenor voice makes you melt a little every time he sings for you. He’s part of the school choir, so it’s natural that he sounds like an angel. He smiles like one too. 

 

Sometimes, when he springs it on you out of nowhere, you still get a little flustered and you find yourself hiding your face just to collect yourself again. “What’s the matter?” He laughs into his webcam when you pull up your hood and look away to hide the blush. 

 

“I hope you don’t smile like that to other girls while I’m gone.” You playfully threaten. 

 

“What? Smile like what?” He chuckles, crinkling the corners of his eyes and making his face that much more beautiful. 

 

“Like— Like… that! Ugh, it’s not hard. Anyone would fall for you without you even trying, so just be careful, okay? I know there are a lot of pretty girls out there, so don’t fall for their charm, got it?” You pout, with barely a hint of weight in your threat. 

 

It only makes his laugh brighter, and your heart race faster at the sound of it. Wow, he really doesn’t get it, the effect he has on everyone around him. “Trust me, I’ve only got you in my heart.” 

 

You turn away with another embarrassed pout, “Really?” 

 

“Really.” His voice softens, and you love how the tenderness still comes through the computer speaker. 

 

Slowly, you turn back to face your own webcam with a shy smile pulling at the corners of your mouth, “Okay. Me too.” 




*




“Hey, New Kid!” Here comes trouble , you think when you hear the volleyball captain bounding up beside you and your friend, Suki, as you’re leaving school. “You headed home?” He appears at your side with his friend who’s also in the volleyball club. 

 

“That’s the plan.” You answer curtly without sparing him a glance. 

 

“Yeah? What do you say we change the plan and grab some ice cream?” He bumps arms with you. 

 

“I’ll pass.” 

 

“Aww, come on. Save the coldness for the ice cream. It’ll be a quick stop, let’s go.” He actually steps around in front of you, his friend pulling up at his side to block your friend’s path as well. You want to gag at how he isn’t even bothering to hide how his eyes roll down the length of your body like it’s a meal he can’t wait to dig in to, “I’ll make it worth your while.” And then he sticks his tongue out, just enough for you to notice that there’s a small silver ball stuck in the front of it. Does the school even allow that?? 

 

You don’t bother to hide the disgust in your voice either when you scoff back at him, “Get out of my way.” 

 

Of course, he decides to do the exact opposite and get in your space even more. He steps forward close enough for you to have to look up at him to maintain eye contact, “Wanna make me?” He smirks. 

 

Your anger flares up and you swing your leg back in preparation to knee him where it really hurts, but your friend hurriedly pulls you back and to the side, “[Surname]-chan, stop! Let’s just go, okay? Let’s go.” 

 

And you’re pulled away and down the street before you can really show that jerkhead the damage you’re willing to deal. Suki hurries you away from the situation, but you still manage to send the volleyball douches a last glare before angrily whipping your head forward again. He’s still calling something out to you, but you’re fuming so much that you barely hear it. 

 

It’s only when you’ve lost sight of them that you let out another angry huff, “What a dickwad! He’s so fucking rude.” 

 

“It’s okay, [Surname]-chan, you should know Terushima by now.” She reminds you. 

 

“I do, but that doesn’t change the fact that he’s fucking rude! Does he treat all the other girls this way? What a sleaze.” You rant. 

 

You do manage to calm down as you continue walking, and about ten minutes from your house, you actually run into your mother who happens to be leaving a bakery along the same street. “Mom!” You call out to her. 

 

“Oh! Hi, honey.” She turns around to find you. After you quickly introduce your friend, she tells you that she’s on the way to the supermarket, “Can you come with me and help me bring the groceries back?” 

 

“Sure.” You shrug. So you bid Suki goodbye and follow your mother to the supermarket down the street. 

 

As you walk and follow her around the mart with the shopping cart, she goes on about the new friends she’s made by shopping around and joining a local recreation center. She’s made a couple friends playing badminton and she’s become close with a few shop owners in the area as well, one of them being the owner of the bakery she had just left when you ran into her. 

 

“And how’s school been going for you?” She asks as she picks out vegetables for the week. 

 

“It’s good. Everyone’s been nice to me. I still miss Kobe though…” You admit. 

 

“Oh, I know, sweetie. I feel the same. That feeling might never go away, but that doesn’t mean that we can’t enjoy our new home too. Have you made any close friends?” 

 

“It’s only been a few weeks, mom. It’s not like I’m going to make best friends right away.” You sigh. Though you can’t say you don’t wish you could. 

 

“Don’t worry, hon. You’ll be settled in before you know it.” She smiles before putting the daikon and carrots into the cart and moving on to the next section. 



*



How ironic is it that right after she gives you those reassuring words that you both come home to find that your house is on fire? 

 

“Oh my goodness!” She drops the groceries and runs forward to where there are a few firefighters trying to control the situation, leaving you to pick up all the oranges that have rolled out of the bags. 

 

“Mom!!” You shout after her. Shouldn’t she know better than to run headfirst into a dangerous situation?! She warns you against it all the time! Luckily, a firefighter stops her in her tracks and asks her to step back while they’re bringing the flames down. 

 

However, that leaves you to hold her as she calms from her panic. For the next hour, while you and the other residents in the area are evacuated to safety and as the fire department brings the situation under control, you have to put your own horror on pause as you listen to your mother list off all the things that she hopes haven’t been lost in the fire. At some point, you called your dad and he came rushing home to comfort you and your mom as you watched black smoke rise through the air for hours from afar. 

 

Everyone living in the same building and the neighboring area anxiously await news updates and the more you learn, the less you can believe that this is all happening to you. When the fire department and local authorities tell you that the fire was caused with a ruptured gas pipeline, that at least two residential buildings had been leveled and would likely become uninhabitable, that no one would be able to return to their homes for at least another two days to even check for salvageable items, all of it feels unreal. 

 

It feels like it’s happening to someone else, not you. Somehow in your frozen brain, you feel like you’ll wake up from a nap and find yourself in your bedroom, intact and ready to head into the kitchen to eat dinner. With every bit of news you receive, you feel your mind numbing further. 

 

Even now, as you hold your parents close in the hotel room you’ve rented out for the evening, all you can do is mindlessly pat their backs as your mother cries and your father patiently murmurs to her. No one has the stomach to eat that night, but your father at least, peels some fruit for everyone to put something in your bodies. The evening passes by sleeplessly, and in your chest, something grows inside the emptiness. 

 

Anger. Spite. Frustration. Rage. Despair. All of the emotions bubbling into upset that makes you cry into your unfamiliar hotel pillow at how unfair this all is! Why did this have to happen to you? Is it a sign? Should your family have never moved here? Is it a bad omen about how your life or your dad’s job is going to burst into flames? 

 

It’s just not fair. Your father doesn’t deserve this after all the hard work he’s gone through to get here, to earn this position. Why does he have to be weighed down by grief when he’s just started his new job? Why do you have to watch your mother cry this way after everything she’s said to reassure you about this move? Why do you have to deal with this right at the start of school? At the start of your new life here? 

 

The next few days blur together in a mess of school, club, getting more updates about your uninhabitable home, retrieving what belongings you had that survived when the area is safe for civilians to enter, re-registering for all the important lost documents, having meetings with the insurance companies, receiving kindness and donations from the community, getting worried looks and questions from your teachers and classmates, doing homework at the library, eating out for dinner every night, staying awake for hours on the hotel bed before finding a few hours of sleep, crying — lots of crying — and just going around trying to accept the reality of everything in order to move on. You’re so out of your spirits that you don’t even play basketball for two weeks. 

 

You don’t know how many times you had to tell the same story to your friends back home when they get the news. It gets easier each time you tell it though; there are less and less tears. Arata probably got the worst of it, since he was the first you called to cry to, and he’s put the effort in to be there for you every day after the incident. You tell him you love him each time. 

 

The shock does eventually wear off as the days wear on. Time doesn’t stop just because you’re now homeless. Your dad doesn’t stop working and you don’t stop going to school. Your mother has gathered impressive strength and ambition to move forward, and has taken up a job at that same bakery you met her at that fateful day. Everyone is working hard to move forward, so watching that and receiving all the support from your family and those around you, you muster up the courage again to show up to the basketball court for the first time in a few weeks. 

 

“Hey…” You walk into the classroom next to yours where you know most of the girls in the basketball club (in your year, at least) are. 

 

“Hey! [Surname]-san…” One of the girls perks up, looking surprised but suddenly holds back, wondering what she should say to you. 

 

“Uhm… would you guys,” You start awkwardly, “Would you wanna play a bit today?” 

 

The girls look at each other before one of them slowly nods, and the others follow in mutual agreement, “Yeah! Yeah, sure! Let’s go!” The begin to hurriedly stuff their faces with the remaining food in their lunch boxes before you chuckle. 

 

“It’s fine. Take your time. I’ll just wait for you outside.” 

 

You head out first and grab a basketball, enjoying the familiar sound of rubber against asphalt as you approach the outdoor court for the first time in what feels like ages. 

 

“Hey~! [Surname]!” One of the boys calls out to you from the other court. At the sound of your name, the other boys stop their game to turn around too. “Want to join in?” 

 

“I’m good, thanks.” You smile back gently, “I’m waiting for the girls to join me.” 

 

After you reassure them that you’ll be fine on your own waiting for your other friends to join, they return to their own game, and you start dribbling around the court. With an appropriate amount of dirt on your hands, you find gripping the ball a bit easier, so you start making shots; layups, three’s, trying your best for a dunk and barely managing to graze the net with your fingers. It feels good to return to a normalcy, to find joy again in something you enjoyed before. 

 

“Woo~ Nice shot, New Kid!” Comes the familiar call of one annoying, loud-mouthed volleyball player. Yet somehow, it doesn’t bother you as much this time. In fact, it’s almost refreshing to hear a familiar and harmless cat-call from the annoying guy who’s been hitting on you from the start. He’s kept his distance since the incident, but he’s carefree enough to holler at you when he sees you playing again. 

 

“Terushima, you jerk! Have some tact!” Your basketball club girls are here, and already telling him off. 

 

“What? I’m just giving her a compliment! Was it not a good shot?” He challenges in his usual playful voice. When is he not playful and free-spirited? As annoying as he is, he seems like the kind of guy who can find the positive or fun in any situation. 

 

Maybe that kind of carefree spirit is what you need too. So today, when you turn to Terushima to meet his flirty smile as he stands on the side of the court being reprimanded by the girls, you let your lips curl up in your own amused chuckle, telling him, “Buzz off,” without an ounce of malice in your voice. 

 

The surprise is flash-frozen on his face for a good second or two, and the girls have a similar expression on, before he breaks back into his usual smirk and willingly backs off today. The girls join you on the court for the remaining ten minutes of lunch, and it’s the best game you’ve played in a while. 





*





“We can’t keep living like this.” Your mother announces as she returns to the hotel room with a suitcase full of laundry that she’s just rolled back from the laundromat. Your father looks up from his laptop on his half of the desk that you’ve been sharing since you’ve moved into this room. You use it for studying while he does some of his extra work he has to take home. Both your homework and his work files are all spread out on the room’s small office desk in organized, yet messy piles. 

 

“What do you mean?” He looks up over his reading glasses. 

 

“Honey, look at this place.” Your mom sweeps her arm across to gesture at the state of the room. Although you’ve all done your best to keep the place organized, you can only do so much within the small space. Even with most of your belongings lost in the fire, there are still items strewn about the room when you’re in a hurry, or run out of space in the drawers and the closet. “This room is nice, but it is by no means a place to live semi-permanently while we figure out a new living situation.” 

 

“I know honey, but you know how it is, we don’t have enough to pay a security deposit for a new apartment right now.” 

 

“And if we keep living here, you’re not going to have enough either, even with your new job.” Your mom puts her hands on her hips, and you know she’s going to win whatever dilemma this is. “We’ve already spent enough replacing everything we lost, and we’re going to be in a bad place if we don’t start saving properly. We need to find somewhere else to live until we’re ready to get back on our feet.” 

 

“You heard from the insurance company and the landlord of the building; once they have a new building up, we’re guaranteed an apartment space there. We just have to wait a while longer.” Your dad explains calmly. 

 

“How long is ‘longer’? A year? Two years? New buildings don’t just pop up in three months, Tō-san.” Your mom’s eyes are stern, unrelenting. “We have got to find a new place to move into until we get our apartment back.” 

 

Your father looks at her for another few seconds before removing his glasses with a sigh, “You’re right.” You nod compliantly as well. 

 

“Good, since we’re all in agreement, I have a proposal.” 

 

She then goes on to explain that the owner of the bakery that she’s befriended and now works for has offered your family the extra living space in her house until your apartment building has finished undergoing renovations. Your dad begins to argue that there is no way we can accept or expect that kind of long-term hospitality for free, even in our desperate situation. But your mom eventually argues him down, saying that she’s already kindly accepted the offer to the arrangement, and already agreed to sign any legal contract naming rules and expectations the bakery owner may have for you while you’re all living there. 

 

Eventually, your father relents, and agrees to the proposal so long as he meets the family beforehand to finalize any formal details for the arrangement. 

 

“Fantastic,” your mom claps her hands together in satisfaction, “I’ll talk to Terushima-san tomorrow.” 

 

Your head snaps back up at the name, “Wait, mom.” 

 

“Hm?” 

 

“Did you just say Terushima?” 

 

“Terushima-san, yes. She’s the owner of the bakery. Well, she and her husband, technically, but she’s the one who manages and runs the place. Oh! Actually, she mentioned that she has a son who goes to your school, honey.” 

 

“You have got to be kidding me…” You don’t like where this is going. 

 

“What’s the matter? Do you know him? I think she said his name was…” 

 

Please don’t say it, please, please don’t say it , you want to beg. 

 

“...Yuuji? Terushima Yuuji. She said he was in Class 7, so maybe you don’t know him, but perhaps you’ve run into him at school?”

 

“NO!” You shout, jumping from your seat. 

 

“[Name], what’s wrong?” Your dad looks at you in surprise. 

 

“Mom, no, please. We cannot move in with them.” You insist.

 

“And why in the heavens not?” She challenges you with a quirked eyebrow and her hands on her hips again. 

 

“Mom, please . I don't like that boy. He annoys me all the time.” You’re fairly sure you sound more whiny than persuasive, but what other reason can you give her? You can’t necessarily badmouth the son of someone who’s offering you free housing. 

 

“Well, frankly, honey, we don’t have any other options. We’re new to this town and we don’t really have any friends yet. Or the money to rent out a new place.” 

 

“So you’re letting us stay in the same house as a boy ? Mom! He has a tongue piercing !”

 

“Any son of Terushima-san’s is sure to be a nice boy.” She sounds resolute, “And besides, if you’re still trying things out with Arata-kun, then it shouldn’t be a problem, should it?” 

 

“But I—! But, but—” 

 

“If you have any other suggestions that are better than this one, from someone trustworthy, then I’m completely open to them. Let me hear it.” 

 

And what is there that you can say to that? There is no better option, so you sink back into your seat, unable to believe that you’re soon going to be living with the one guy who’s been annoying you since you got to this damn city. 



*



The house definitely isn’t built for this many people, but it’s large enough to be comfortable, at least more comfortable than that two bed hotel room you had been inhabiting for the past month. You and your parents will share the empty guest room with foldable futons, a closet, an extra dresser, and a bookshelf. You’ll just have to use the living room or kitchen table as a desk if you need it. And thankfully, there are two full bathrooms in the house, so your families can wash up separately. 

 

Mrs. Terushima brought out extra chairs to put around the dining table, and extra pillows and sitting mats for the living room. The living room has a kotatsu, which you’d normally enjoy if you weren’t afraid of sitting next to the guy who also lives in the house. 

 

God, the look on his face when he came home that night you moved in. You had been avoiding him as much as possible at school for the past few days since you got the news. But there was no avoiding him any longer when he came home after volleyball practice, all tiredness completely vanishing from his face the moment his eyes landed on you when you and your parents greeted him. 

 

You only saw that smug smile for a second, since you had avoided his gaze afterward, but you can’t forget how victorious he looked — like he caught the best prey in his perfectly laid trap. The satisfaction in his smile made your gut flop over sideways, and his voice sounded all too pleasant when he greeted you back, “Happy to have you.” 

 

“Oh, and Yuuji-kun, I know you and [Name] are in the same grade, so please take care of her at school as well. We appreciate it.” Your mother adds. 

 

When you say nothing as follow up, simply focusing on avoiding Terushima’s face, your mother nudges you and whispers not to be rude. So you begrudgingly bow your head to the annoying volleyball captain with a quiet, “I’ll be in your care.” 

 

When you stand to face him again, this look on his face scares you more than the last one. There’s a sharpness dancing in his eyes; excitement. “My pleasure, [Name]-chan.” 




*




The first week living in the Terushima household passes relatively harmlessly. Yuuji, as you now address him, is pretty tame when any of his or your family members are around. Tame in the sense that he doesn’t flirt with you, at least. He’s as loud and rambunctious around the house as you’ve seen him be at school, but he gives you your space when you’re passing each other in the hallway or living room. 

 

At school, however, is another story completely. Whenever the opportunity presents itself, he calls out loudly to you — whether it be in the hallway, the courtyard, or he happens to be passing by your gym class. Never did you think you’d long for the days when he called you ‘New Kid,’ because hearing him obnoxiously shouting your first name or “Roomie” is exponentially worse. 

 

News obviously gets around school that you’re now living with Terushima from Class 7, and you get asked about it nonstop for days. 

 

“How is it? Has he tried hitting on you while at home?” 

 

“Does he walk around with his shirt off? Does he have abs??” 

 

“Do you guys share a room?!” 

 

“Has he seen your underwear or anything?” 

 

“So is his mom like your superior then? Does she act that way in the house too?” 

 

It’s almost worse that Yuuji keeps all the answers mysteriously to himself. From what you know, whenever he’s asked questions like the ones you’ve gotten, he just shoos them away with a playful wink, saying it’s a secret that should be left behind closed doors. Which obviously sparks all kinds of hot rumors about you two. How can people not talk when Yuuji is calling you by your first name so comfortably, touching you lightly in greeting or even putting his arm around you every so often? He’s making it look like you’ve been friends forever! 

 

You do your best to combat the rumors, but you really can’t stop people from talking and believing what they want to believe. So at some point, you give up, and you simply greet Yuuji’s energetic calls with a simple, “Hey” or “Yo.” You suppose it’s the least you can do when he’s being civil for the most part on his end at home. Because like it or not, you’re still living in his home at the end of the day. 






One particular Friday, however, he picks up speed. Both your parents are still at work and he gets home early from practice for once. He knocks on your door and opens it without waiting for an answer, “Wanna come watch a movie downstairs?” 

 

And out of polite reflex, you ask, “What movie?”

 

“I dunno. Whatever’s on.” He shrugs. 

 

You consider it for a moment, “So you mean you’re going to sit next to me for two hours and keep your hands off of me?” 

 

A playful grin appears at the corners of his mouth, “I didn’t make any promises like that.” 

 

“Then hard pass.” You turn back to your laptop, happy to stay holed up in your family’s shared room for the rest of the evening on your own. 

 

“Aw, come on, Roomie. What’s the fun of having a roommate if you can’t do stuff together?” 

 

“I’m sure you’ll be fine watching on your own. Besides, I have other stuff to do.” 

 

And surprisingly, he relents. “Suit yourself.” Though there’s still a smugness about his face, as if to say, ‘you’ll come around.’ 





He offers again every couple days. And not just to watch movies, he also asks if you want to play video games, or share his snacks, to walk to school or back home together, to help with studying, and even to help you make lunch. At the beginning, you would say no without preamble, but as the weeks wear on, you slowly begin to say yes every so often. Usually with homework help, since he is in Class 7 after all. 

 

But slowly, you started to accept his help or offers more. Granted, if he started flirting with you again, you’d screech to a halt and turn the other way, but as of recently, you don’t ever know if you’ll agree or not. And Yuuji, a rather opportunistic guy, becomes even more confident and persistent with his asking.

 

At some point, you had started making lunch for the both of you — which did not help the rumors flying around — since you would make it for yourself anyway, and it’d be rude to just let your housemate eat the school bread he’s been continuously complaining about. Yuuji would get up early sometimes to help you make it, and you’d have a laugh every so often when he made a mistake or tried to decorate the bento only to end up with some unidentifiable creation as a result. 

 

And since Yuuji doesn’t usually have morning practice, he accompanies you on the walk to school. And when the timing is right, the walk home after club activities too. All this leisure time you spend together is where you come to realize you both have similar senses of humor, as well as taste in manga, but stark differences in preferences for things like career or romance. 

 

“Oh come on, Hoops,” He calls you by yet another nickname to make you seem closer than you are, this one obviously alluding to your affinity for basketball. “You mean to tell me that you wouldn’t want to date a handsome guy like me? Not even once in your life?” He asks as you’re both walking home one evening. 

 

“It’s not about being handsome or how you look. I have to like who you are on the inside. And you’re just too cocky for my taste.” You argue. “I want someone who’s humble, and sweet. Someone who will treat me well.” 

 

“You won’t know how well I’ll treat you if you don’t let me try.” He leans in with a wink. 

 

“Buzz off.” You push away, comfortable enough with him now that you can use a little force. “What’s your type anyway? I swear, you’ll go for anyone.” 

 

“That’s not true. I like all cute girls.” He gives you another sleazy look, “I could never choose one over another.” 

 

“So you mean you would never stay loyal to just one?” You ask. 

 

“Well, not saying it’s impossible. But what’s the fun of life if you’re stuck with only one cute girl?” He reasons. “There’s nothing wrong with taking your time.” 

 

You want to believe that he means it in a mature way, but with Yuuji, you’ve learned that you can never know. And sometimes you’re better off just not knowing. 

 

“Anyway,” he continues, “Spiderman’s on tonight. Wanna watch?” 

 

“It’s Friday and everyone’s working late. Last time we watched a movie alone, you tried to sleep on my lap.” 

 

“Is that a no?” He grins. And when you give him a look, he chuckles, “Fine. How about some GTA then? No sleeping. I’ll just scoot up next to you and press our legs together.” 

 

You predictably roll your eyes at him before declining, “Would love to, but I’ve got a call scheduled tonight.” 

 

“With who?” 

 

“My boyfriend.”

 

Actually, he was supposed to text you after school to confirm, but he hasn’t replied to you yet. It’s not really his fault, but Arata has been slower with his replies these days. Apparently, there’s a choir competition this year that the school got into, so they’ve been working on that and the choir teacher has been writing up brand new medleys for everyone to practice and learn on the clock. You understand, but you still miss him. 

 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Your boyfriend?” Terushima cackles, “You do not have a boyfriend.” 

 

“How would you know?” 

 

“You have been living in my house. We spend almost every waking hour together outside of school, and I haven’t heard a thing about this so-called boyfriend until now.” 

 

Well he’s got a point there. You haven’t exactly been vocal about the fact that you have a boyfriend back home. What with being the new kid, and suddenly the fire incident, and then moving in with Terushima’s family, all the details about your life back home became part of the background. You only mentioned it to a couple girls in your class, and the two people you used to walk home with from orchestra club, but they didn’t make it out to be a big deal, so they didn’t spread it as one. 

 

“His name is Takayashi Arata.” You announce officially, pulling up your phone to look for some photos, “We were in the same class last year and he asked me out right before we became second-years.” 

 

“Arata? Same name as our libero, Tsuchi.” Yuuji takes your phone to look over the photo of you and Arata holding ice cream cones during one of your dates back home in Kobe. “So you’ve only been dating for a few months then.” He looks up from your phone to ask, still looking somewhat skeptical. 

 

“Yeah, and he’s really been there for me through everything in the past few months. So I really like him.” You quip, snatching your phone back before he can start scrolling through your other photos, and you gaze fondly down at your boyfriend’s beautiful face. 

 

“He’s pretty, I’ll give him that.” Terushima walks on, locking his fingers together behind his head in that carefree way of his. “But you haven’t been together that long. A pretty guy like that with a girlfriend hundreds of miles away? I doubt he isn’t messing around.” 

 

The accusation hits you the wrong way. Suddenly, you feel hot with anger. “Why? Because that’s what you would do? He’s not like you, Yuuji. Don’t be a jerk.” 

 

How can he just say something so easily like that? As if he actually knows Arata, or what your relationship is actually like.  

 

“Hey, I’m just saying,” Yuuji holds his hands up in surrender, but mainly to get the keys out to open up the door to the house, “It’s been a while since you’ve been here so don’t you think it’s weird that I had no idea you had a boyfriend? You’re never on the phone with him or making giggly faces of anything, so I wouldn’t have guessed.” 

 

“Well now you know.” You huff, stomping off to your room. 

 

“Have fun on your call!” He calls cheerily after you. 

 

You’ll be sure to. You’ve been looking forward to talking to Arata for the past two weeks. Last weekend he was busy with an excursion for choir, so he couldn’t make the usual call, so he promised to call earlier this weekend to make up for it. But after checking your phone again, you see that you still have no new messages. 

 

So while you wait, you decide to change out of your school uniform into something more comfortable — and admittedly, cuter. You want to look good for your man, so sue you. However, the hours pass by and you continue through your evening, preparing and eating dinner, anxiously checking your idle phone every few minutes. You actually just skipped over the wait for the reply and called him once, but there was no answer, much to your disappointment. 

 

It isn’t until actually late next morning, while you’re preparing lunch, that your phone rings for a video call. When you see Arata’s name, the spiteful part of you is tempted to let him go unanswered, but the longing part of you gets you to pick up. 

 

“Hey! Hey, [Name]. I am so sorry that I missed your call last night…” The apologetic look on his face is already enough to soften your heart and forgive him on the spot. It’s been too long since you last heard his voice. 

 

“And my messages?” You pucker your lips, trying to at least look like you’re still annoyed. 

 

“I know, I know. I should’ve at least replied to you. Let you know that I wouldn’t be able to make the call last night…” His sigh sounds heavy with guilt, and your hard expression softens with your heart. He goes on to tell you the whole story about how Jota, one of his best friends on the baseball team, wrangled him in to attending a karaoke party to celebrate one of their team’s wins, and all the ridiculous shenanigans that they got into. 

 

At one point, his phone got dropped into a large cup of soda and died on the spot without a sign of life until repairs. Which is why he’s calling you from his laptop right now. “I would’ve called you earlier this morning or when I got home last night, but it was so late by the time I got back that I figured you’d be asleep. And I had to go to the phone repair shop first thing this morning to get that whole situation taken care of and… Ugh I know it’s no excuse to keep you waiting like that, but I’m just really, really sorry.” He pleads, “Is there any way you can forgive me?” 

 

You’re powerless to those beautiful forest green eyes, and the darkness underneath them does hint to you that he must be pretty exhausted from the chaos of the last twelve hours, so you whip your gaze back to your bowl, where you’re cracking eggs. “If that’s all true,” crack , in goes the raw egg, “then I can be understanding, “ crack , another, “but,” crack , “if you ever forget to message me again,” crack , “I won’t be so easy on you next time.” You try to make it more intimidating by pointing your chopsticks at him through your phone camera before using them to scramble up your eggs. 

 

“I promise, I promise!” He claps his hands together, “You won’t ever get a late response again!” 

 

“Fine.” You say simply, adding your chopped up veggie bits to your egg mixture to scramble evenly. 

 

“Ooh! Is that your famous egg rollup? I really miss those,” he laughs, “Even though I only ever got to eat them by stealing them from your lunch box.” 

 

“That’s not true, I made you lunch once! To wish you good luck before that one concert.” You retort, heart perking at the memory.

 

“Oh yeah, that’s right! My gosh, they were so good… I can’t wait to see you again so I can taste them one more time.” His smile is dazzling, and those floppy waves of black hair falling into his eyes just make you lower any remaining defenses you have. 

 

“Is it really that good?” Your hand slows in its mixing, the blood in your face making it just a tad harder to concentrate. 

 

“Of course! Don’t tell my mom, but they’re honestly some of the best egg rollups I’ve had in my life.” He leans in as if sharing a dangerous secret. 

 

You’re a goner. For the rest of your call, your face is pulled back in smiles and giggles, and you cook and eat while sharing flirty exchanges and cheesy jokes. Gosh, he is just unfairly charming and handsome, you spend the rest of your day in a giddy daze, even after you hang up. 

 

The glow doesn’t leave you even when you’re helping prepare dinner later that evening. Yuuji notices when he walks into the kitchen after a long day of weekend practice. “What’s got you up in a tizzy? Your boyfriend finally call you back?” He says it like a joke as he pulls a drink out of the fridge. 

 

“As a matter of fact, yes he did. And I was mad, but he gave me a perfectly reasonable explanation for why he didn’t call me last night.” You say as you turn the stove on to start boiling the soup. 

 

“Oh yeah? And what was that?” Yuuji challenges as he takes a gulp of water, leaning casually against the kitchen counter as if he’s fully prepared to doubt your boyfriend’s intentions even before you answer. 

 

You guy him a summary of the whole situation, hoping you don’t sound too overconfident in yourself as you explain it. But even with all your conviction, Yuuji is determined to knock you off your high horse. “So he didn’t get back to you until lunch to tell you he was ‘busy’?” 

 

“It was before lunch. I told you, he had to go get his phone fixed, and the shop probably doesn’t open until at least nine.” You come to Arata’s defense. “He looked exhausted.”

 

Yuuji scoffs, “I call bullshit.” 

 

“The hell is that supposed to mean?” 

 

“It means that he was probably not at the party you think he was at.” The volleyball jerk has the audacity to look careless as he says it, like he isn’t accusing your boyfriend of lying, “The way I see it, he knows you well, which is how he knows how to deceive you. The only way that he wouldn’t have found a way to contact you until then would be if he was messing around with someone else all night, slept in, and took extra time to plan his excuses.” 

 

You stare him down with furrowed eyebrows, anger beginning to boil in your blood again, “How the fuck would you know? You haven’t even met him!”

 

“I don’t need to, I’m a dude.” He shrugs, taking another sip of water, “We’re all the same at the core.” 

 

“Fuck you, Yuuji. I don’t need your baseless accusations ruining my mood.” You turn your back to him to start peeling the produce you’ve assembled, “I trust Arata, and I’m not gonna let you brainwash me into thinking otherwise just because you want to sleep with me.” 

 

“Hey, regardless of my wanting to sleep with you, that’s my honest opinion. Don’t shoot the messenger.” He throws back in that usual carefree way of his, as if he never has to take anything seriously. That annoys you about him, but it’s not like you can force him to change. Especially when that free spiritedness is the base of the humor in your relationship. 

 

“Anyway, he’s your boyfriend, so you can believe whatever you want. I’m gonna shower.” He exits the kitchen, leaving you to steam in your own deprecating thoughts. But not before he just has to add in, “You’re free to join me, of course!” 

 

“Fuck off, Yuuji!” You call back. The nerve this boy has to throw out comments like they won’t hurt you. You know that if you start thinking too much about what he said, then you’ll just start agonizing over every little detail that happens between you and your interactions with Arata. Does that make you insecure? The fear that in the small chance that Yuuji may have a point will lead to your own undoing? 

 

But you want to trust Arata. You really like him, maybe even love him. You want to trust him and have faith in your boyfriend. So you will. 




*




“Waiting for him to call again?” Yuuji’s voice from the door of your bedroom snaps your attention away from your phone, which you had been undeniably staring at, hoping for a call. 

 

“What’s it to you?” You pout back, grabbing at your open textbook and glaring into it, obviously failing to look busy but unable to let go of your pride. 

 

“Nothing, just thought if you’ve got nothing better to do on a Saturday night if you wanted to hang out with me and some of the guys.” He leans against your open door frame, looking admittedly good in his street clothes and ironically on-brand with a lollipop stuck in his mouth. 

 

You chew at your bottom lip, but scramble for your phone when it lights up with a notification. 



‘hey [name] sorry this is so last minute but i can’t make our call tonight after all… :’( i got called in at work and i can’t refuse bc i’m still new…’ 

 

‘talk tmr instead?’ 



Even though you hold in your deep sigh, you can’t stop your upset reaction from escaping when you roughly toss your phone to the side. You know you’ll be grateful later that it landed against some other folded up futons, but right now, you couldn’t care less. 

 

Despite his promise, Arata’s slow responses have still been a constant pattern, and in the past two weeks, you’ve barely had a call that lasted longer than ten minutes before he got busy with something else. You can’t help that he’s taking on more with his new part time job on top of his school and club responsibilities, but it doesn’t stop you from feeling disappointed. 

 

You’ve set aside time on a Saturday night to talk to him, and now you’re left with nothing to do. But when you look up to see Yuuji still standing there at the door, looking confused but still waiting for your answer to his invitation, some impulse snaps within you that makes you ask, “What’s the plan for tonight?” 

 

“So you’re actually coming?” He looks surprised, but smiles anyway, “Trouble in paradise?” 

 

“Fuck you, Yuuji. What are you doing tonight?” You repeat. 

 

“Just having a night out on the town. Will probably end up at Futamata’s house with drinks and fried chicken. You down?” His usual smirk curls up on one side of his face. 

 

“Fine.” You stand, “Get out, I’m gonna change.” 

 

“Do I have to?” He jokes.

 

And you answer with a light kick to his ribs before slamming the door shut. You can hear him cackling as he disappears back down the stairs through the door, but you shake it out of your head — along with all your sad thoughts about Arata — as you go about choosing an outfit. 




*




“Go, go, go, go, go, go, go, go!!!” The boys from the volleyball club and a few from the basketball club chant together in their low timbre as you down the mixture of all kinds of alcohol and liquids accumulated from the game of king’s cup. There is no way that this kind of behavior is appropriate since you’re all minors and if word got to your parents, you’d be toast, but you fairly lost the game after battling so long against all these boneheads, and you’ll take your punishment with grace. 

 

As much grace as you can from this salad bowl of alcohol soup, at least. You make it down to the last drop on sheer pride alone, and you can feel the dizziness overcoming you as all the alcohol rains down your throat. The boys cheer with obnoxious admiration that makes the walls shake with their volume when you slam the empty bowl back down on the floor. You accept all the praises because you are starting to become beyond drunk, and you’re focusing hard on your bursting belly from the large volume of liquids you just downed. And well, also because you’re a little proud. 

 

This entire evening had been stupid and chaotic with you following in all these adolescent boys’ dumb shenanigans, but you couldn’t deny the fun you had. After gathering all kinds of junk food from different fast food establishments to eat together in one of the resting areas near the park, the group moved from the arcade, to karaoke, to the batting cages, to the convenience store where you all bummed until past midnight and the employees eventually had to shoo you home for being noisy. And although a couple people went home, most of them stayed to hang at Futamata’s house as expected, where he pulled all the different alcoholic drinks out of the cupboards to turn the party up a bit. 

 

You didn’t condone any of the behavior at first, mainly because you expected athletes to take better care of their bodies, but after being challenged in beer pong, you ended up going with the flow as your conviction grew weaker under the influence. So many jokes and games went back and forth, and you were having such a good time that you didn’t even realize you were getting wrangled into yet another game. 

 

King’s cup was your undoing though, because there is no chance in hell that you can drink another sip of air, let alone liquid or alcohol. You can’t sit up straight on your own anymore, so you’ve been leaning on one shoulder or another, laughing at everything and nothing, and occasionally clutching your stomach to recompose yourself as not to throw up. 

 

Yuuji comes over and hollers loudly about how proud he is of you. “That’s my roomie for you! Damn, Hoops! You’re a monster!” He plops down on the floor to sling his arm around your shoulders and pull you close to him, so you’re leaning against him and the edge of the couch behind you. He has got to be drunk too, you won’t go through this alone! 

 

“Yo! I’m not! Your roommate.” You slur back, rocking back and forth underneath his surprisingly stable grip. 

 

“So what do you want me to call you? My tenant?” He cackles loudly, ruffling your hair with his fingers. His hand is quite big, and warm, you notice. But what the hell is he doing to your hair?? 

 

“Back off!!” You push him away with your noodle arms, knowing there isn’t an ounce of strength in you to do anything. “I have a boyfriend! I can’t just— fuck my landlord!!” You shout. You can’t just become a cliche like that! 

 

Laughter bursts throughout the room, and all over your body as Yuuji guffaws into fits. He laughs so hard that he actually releases you from his arm, and you’re left to sway on your own again. Just as you’re about to fall away to the other side though, the volleyball captain reigns you back in so your head lands on his chest. And in a surprisingly masculine gesture, he tilts your head up by your chin with his fingers, forcing your glazed eyes up to his, “But do you want to?” He teases, buzzed chuckles escaping his smile. 

 

“No!!” You pull your chin away from his hand, but don’t have the strength to sit back up on your own, so your face just lands right back onto his chest, “I’m not like you! I don’t think with my dick.” 

 

More cackling from all over the room, and you don’t even know why, but you start laughing too. You don’t even know what’s funny, but you just laugh because there’s no power left in you to contain yourself. Or your gut, you realize, as you begin to feel a queasiness stir in your stomach. Your body stills, and your eyes become unfocused and your chest starts convulsing. 

 

Yuuji recognizes your dilemma, and jumps up to retrieve the large salad bowl that you had just drank from and holds it below your chin. The lingering smell of all the mixed alcohols is enough to trigger the last dominoes of your nausea and you start retching into the bowl. Even when you’ve practically filled it to the brim, and you’re no longer bursting with discomfort of fullness, you can still feel a second wave coming. 

 

So in the short moment of confusion that allows your body to forget how fucked up you are, you stumble up to the closest safe zone to puke again — which happens to be the kitchen sink. You can hear the boys jeering or laughing or groaning somewhere in the background. And at least one dude is decent enough to come up to gently rub your back and occasionally rinse out the sink for you to puke more. “There, there…” You recognize the voice of one of the guys you play basketball with; he always consoles you after you miss a shot too. 

 

The rest of the evening is drawn blank to you, because the last of your strength leaves your body once the last of whatever was in your stomach escapes. And the next thing you realize, you’re waking up on one of the armchairs in Futamata’s living room. Sore as fuck. 

 

It takes you a few minutes to come to and finally lift your head to wheeze in a breath. Looking around, you slowly take in all the details of your surroundings: you’ve been covered in a volleyball jacket and there are a small handful of boys passed out around the room. Three sprawled about the furniture, and four lying on the floor. And when you look down to see why your lap is surprisingly warm, you find a familiar bleached blonde head propped atop one of your knees. 

 

Yuuji must have fallen asleep while sitting beside you on the floor, his back leaning against the front of the armrest of your chair. Mindlessly, you lift your hand and run your fingers through his blonde hair, gently caressing him. Maybe, somewhere in the back of your mind, you appreciate how he kept watch over you instead of taking advantage of the situation. If you were truly in your right mind, and your head wasn’t thrumming with pain, you’d probably jump up and freak out at the fact that you fell asleep with almost a dozen boys around you last night. 

 

It takes a while for you to actually find conscious strength to even think about moving. And by that time, a few of the boys have started stirring. One of them gets up to take a leak, another few roll over and groan, Yuuji eventually becomes conscious of your mindless stroking of his hair, and looks up to find you staring straight ahead at nothing in particular. 

 

“Mornin’.” He croaks in his alcohol-ruined morning voice. 

 

It stirs something inside of you that you’re too hungover to think about, but you do become aware enough to pull your hand out of his hair. He makes a whiny hum and pulls your hand back to his neck, where you can feel the growing hairs of his undercut poking at the tips of your fingers at the back of his head. Still not entirely yourself yet, you curiously stroke at the shaved and growing hair there, finding the sensations ticklish yet satisfying. “Ah… don’t stop.” He sighs, smiling lazily up at you. 

 

That snaps you out of it. But you’re not mad. You actually laugh, even though your voice sounds like gravel scraping sandpaper from dehydration. “Exactly how much did we fuck up last night?” 

 

“Mmh… well…” he groans as he stretches his arms out, then rests them on your knees to prop his chin on, “We all kept our clothes on, which I say is an accomplishment.” 

 

“The hell do you mean an accomplishment.” You follow his lead and stretch your limbs too, nudging him off of your legs. 

 

He catches himself on his hands behind him, laughing, “Well, maybe it’s because you were around, but Higashi and Jiri usually find some excuse to take their shirts off.” He nods to the two boys sprawled wide on the floor. “And believe it or not, your little ball boys over there are usually the first to make dumb dick jokes when they start feeling it.” He nods to the two point guards lying on the sofa. 

 

You suck in a deep breath and rub your face with your hands, “My god… I am gonna be in so much trouble…” You don’t yet dare to look at your phone. You’re afraid to see how many missed calls and messages you’ll have. 

 

“Eh, it’ll be fine. My parents know that I’m usually out with the guys on weekends. I texted them that you were with me.” Yuuji stands and pats the dust and snack crumbs off his clothes before heading to the bathroom, leaving you to whine to yourself. 







And lo and behold, you were right. When your headache finally subsides after taking some aspirin and going out to a restaurant for a late breakfast/early lunch with Yuuji and a couple other boys who were game, you call your parents back and endure quite a lecture outside the restaurant for about five or so minutes. Somehow, you manage to leave out the fact that alcohol was involved in the whole escapade during your excuses, and they seem at least somewhat comforted that Yuuji was with you the whole time. 

 

When you’re forced to show up for an in-person lecture at the back of the bakery later that afternoon, you manage to convince your mother to let you off easy by whining a bit and sharing a molded bit of honesty, “It’s just… Arata hasn’t been able to talk to me lately… And I was sad, so I just thought I’d try to have a little fun even if he can’t call me. And I trust Yuuji, so I just went along with him.” 

 

You don’t necessarily trust him 100% but you will give him credit for not taking advantage of you yesterday. And it’s true that you were sad, but honestly, you kind of just wanted to blow off some steam and… do what? Prove to Arata that you’re busy too? Partying and being irresponsible? This wasn’t you… Would he be disappointed? Are you disappointed? 

 

Thinking back on it all, it could’ve turned out a lot worse. You did have your fair share of fun, but you don’t think you could make a habit of doing this. And your mother reminds you of that for a good ten minutes before she eventually sends you home, making you feel lucky that you weren’t punished beyond this. 

 

One good thing that did come out of all of this is that you weren’t left anxiously waiting for your boyfriend’s call for the last 18 hours, and his concerned texts are a nice change of pace. You’re excited to call him back that evening, but unfortunately, he doesn’t pick up your call again. So you just leave it be with a few summary texts and a goodnight message, since you have school tomorrow. 

 

When you find his concerned but relieved replies the next morning, you’re conflicted about his reaction. For one thing, you’re happy that he trusts you not to go too far, but you’re also disappointed that he didn’t go on a blown out rage about hanging out with so many boys at night or showing even a hint of jealousy… You want to believe that it’s for the better, but you still want to talk to him about it to see his genuine reaction. 

 

But you guys only have time for a short half hour call the next weekend, and despite Arata’s insistence that he’s okay with all the events that transpired, you still feel guilty about it after stewing over it for a week. “I mean… I don’t know what could’ve happened. I mean… if anything did, then I’d tell you of course. But I don’t know, I just—” You stop to sigh, “Why are you not upset about this?!” 

 

It comes out more shrill than you want, but that must show how pent up over this you really are. Why is your boyfriend not concerned that you spent all night with a bunch of playboys (who are pretty nice when you get to know them, but still playboys in their own right)?? You know that you’d be upset if he did the same with a bunch of girls! 

 

“I told you, [Name], I trust you. And I can’t stop you from hanging out with your friends if you want to. That’s your new home, I want you to have fun there. I just hope that if it turns into… anything more… that you’ll tell me. I mean, do you like any of them?” He pauses, finally showing a hint of worry in his face. 

 

“I don’t! We really are just friends!” You reassure, “Really. I— I kind of just went out with them because… because I miss you.” 

 

“Aw, [Name]...” 

 

“I mean, if I could’ve spent the night with you instead, I would have in a heartbeat.” You admit, looking away shyly after saying it. Does that sound weird? Was it too forward?  

 

“Me, too.” Arata smiles after a pause. “Thanks for telling me, [Name]. You’re a really good person.” 

 

Something about the way he says that throws you off. It’s not necessarily a strange comment, but you didn’t tell him about it because you were a good person… You told him because he’s your boyfriend, and he should know when something like that happens, right? And that it wouldn’t threaten your relationship. 

 

You don’t know why it bothers you to the point that you’re still thinking about it later that evening on the floor cushions when you’re trying to watch your favorite Disney movie. Instead of being enraptured by the beauty of the animation and the strength in your favorite characters, you’re doing a deep dive on all of Arata’s social media accounts. Before you know it, you’re overcome with worry at all the photos he’s been tagged in, and several Instagram interactions he’s had in the comments of different posts from some girl. 

 

Usually, you wouldn’t be bothered because you know Arata is popular. He’s a handsome guy who can sing, so there’s no reason he wouldn’t be. But what does eat at you is that he has quite a few interactions with this one user named _kikiyoshi, and you can’t investigate further because her account is private. You can at least guess it’s a girl from the cutesy character profile picture and girly bio written at the top. 

 

After nosing around for a good half hour through all the common accounts they follow and posts they’ve interacted with, you can’t help but feel more worry eat at your heart as you see the vague but evident heart emoji reactions, and short but undeniably cute replies like ‘this reminds me of u’ or ‘omg us hehe.’ 

 

“Ugh!!” You scream, rubbing at your head in frustration and stomping up the stairs to throw your face into your futon pillow. Out of frustration, you send your friends back home the screenshots of all the suspicious comments you found and ask for their opinions or if they know who the girl is. Even as you ask, you can only hope for responses that will tell you you’re being paranoid or that Arata really has been so busy and that it’s clear he still only thinks of you or… just something. 

 

But if you get responses confirming your suspicions… what are you supposed to do? Just the thought of losing Arata squeezes at your heart so hard, that you feel like you want to puke up it. You grab the big carrot plushie at your side and hug it tightly to your chest, needing something to physically chain you to reality, or just something to hold as you fall deeper into your worries. 

 

You don’t know how much time has passed when Yuuji appears at your door, “The TV is still on. Are you not watching it anymore?” He asks. 

 

Without sparing a glance his way, you shake your head weakly. Yuuji heaves a big sigh before entering the room and sitting on the floor beside you, leaning his back against the wall, “Alright, Hoops. What’s wrong?” 

 

If you voice it aloud, maybe it’ll feel too real. Maybe it’ll make you fully realize how real the situation could be that this is all happening. Should you even project that thought and put it out into the universe? You contemplate for a long time, until Yuuji gets sick of waiting and starts bonking your head lightly with his fist, “Hello~ You in there?” 

 

“What if… you’re right?” You start slowly. 

 

He freezes, bringing his hand back to his own lap. Studying you for a moment, he finally asks in a surprisingly patient voice, “About your boyfriend?” 

 

You nod slowly again. “What if… all this time, I’ve been being blindly faithful and trusting… And he’s been lying to me?” The thought is unbearable. You hug the carrot plush tighter against you in attempt to staunch the ache in your chest. 

 

“Well, what’s got you suddenly doubting yourself? When you were so confident before.” 

 

“Just… I don’t know… he’s been distant.” You shrug. 

 

“Definitely sus, but is that it?” He asks further. 

 

After blinking for a few thoughtful moments, you pull up your phone and let him scroll through the screenshots you took of the social media comments you saw between Arata and _kikiyoshi. After swiping through the evidence, Yuuji looks back at you before setting your phone down, “Yeah… it’s not looking too good.” 

 

Definitely not what you wanted to hear. So you groan and roll your face into your pillow to muffle your whining. 

 

“I mean, hey! At least if he really does turn out to be an asshole like that, then you can leave him behind since you don’t even gotta see him! And you got a whole lot of pickings of cool guys to rebound on if you need.” Yuuji offers. Of course he would see it that way, he’s always just looking for the fun parts of life. After one fun thing, it’s on to another. 

 

“Yuuji, I don’t want a rebound. I want to be with Arata.” You lift your head up to glare at him, and move to sit up, still clutching your carrot plushie. “You may never have stayed with one girl long enough to fall in love, but when you do, it’s deep, you know?” 

 

You scoot back until you’re sitting side by side with him with your back against the wall, the carrot squished between your chest and your thighs. “He won me this, you know. It was in one of those really big crane machines since the plushie is so big. He spent so much money trying to catch it for me, and when he finally did, I thought, ‘Wow. This guy is really willing to go all the way for me.’ I watched him spend all that money, time, and effort trying to win this big carrot just because I said I wanted it. He was always so sweet to me…” 

 

You sink down into the floor just a little and hold the plushie up above your head, staring at it’s cute little sewn-in face. “After the fire, when we went back for our things… This was one of the only things that survived, because it was pretty deep in a box of things that I hadn’t unpacked yet. And I don’t know… I thought it was a sign that… that Arata and I could make it through anything.” You pause to sniff a bit, feeling tears starting to prickle in your eyes. But you don’t really want to cry when there isn’t anything to cry over. At least, not yet… “Silly, huh?” 

 

“No, I don’t think so.” Yuuji’s answer catches you by surprise. When you turn to look at him curiously, he continues, “I mean, it is pretty miraculous that a giant carrot doll managed to survive out of all the things you lost in that fire. So who knows, maybe it is a sign that he is the dude that you thought he is.” He shrugs noncommittally, clearly not believing what he’s saying. 

 

Still, you appreciate that he’s saying it at all. Who’d have thought that Terushima Yuuji, the jerkhead volleyball captain who flirts with you at every given opportunity, would have the emotional capacity for empathy? He’s proving to be more than just the self-serving, attention-starved, party animal, playboy that you thought he was. 

 

“Thanks.” You smile, leaning into him just the slightest to press your shoulder to his arm. It’s a small comfort you’ll allow yourself and the bit of affection you’ll offer him. Just this once. 




*




“Good news!” Your dad announces when he gets home one night, “I got an email from the landlord of our building, and he said that renovations are going well. We might be able to move back in by the summer!” 

 

“Really? That’s wonderful, honey!” Your mother cheers from the kitchen. Mrs. Terushima offers her own congratulations as well, patting your mom’s back. 

 

“Aww man. Looks like our time’s running out, Hoops.” You turn back to Yuuji, who’s sitting diagonally across from you at the living room coffee table. 

 

“You gonna miss me that bad?” You snort. 

 

“‘Course! That’s why we gotta make every moment count while we can.” He grins, nudging you with a leg underneath the table. 

 

“Get back to work,” you throw an eraser at him, “I’m only using you so I can get through exams alive.” 

 

“Hoops, you hurt me!” He gasps, slapping a dramatic hand to his chest, “To think you only liked me for my brain!” 

 

That gets you to spit out your tea in outrageous laughter. Yuuji looks all too satisfied that he got you to laugh so hard, and you can only retort with your own playful kick underneath the table. It really is ironic to know that you get study help from this guy that only ever acts like a horny monkey. Whenever he isn’t jumping around and hollering on the volleyball court, he’s hitting on some new girl or acting a fool with his friends. Sometimes both at the same time. 

 

You’re no exception to that hormonal confidence of his, you never have been. But he’s gotten used to you shutting him down, and now he probably sees it as some game to see if he can somehow throw you off every once in a while. You don’t doubt that he would actually sleep with you in a heartbeat if you ever let him, but you make it as clear as possible that you will not humor such an idea, even if you tolerate his relentless flirting. Again, it’s really only because you have to live with him. 

 

But honestly, living with him hasn’t been all that bad. It’s been almost three months now since you moved in, your family is exponentially closer with the Terushima family now. You’re practically real family now, since you see each other every day. Your mothers work together at the bakery all day and your fathers always like to watch the same sports games together when they get home from their individual jobs. And even though Yuuji’s flirting makes it weird to think of him as a sibling, he definitely is as annoying as one. And as close as one. 

 

You’ve gotten so used to seeing him all the time; cooking, eating, studying, walking home, going out, talking at home, and just being around him that you can’t really imagine leaving just yet. He’s like the best friend you never wanted. When you move back into your own apartment with your family, there won’t be any of that anymore. Will you miss it? Will you still be friends? Will he still annoy you the same way that he is now? You hate to admit it, but he’s grown on you. And it’s weird to imagine life without him at the moment. 

 

Guess you don’t really have to, though. The building isn’t nearly done yet, and your dad said you’d be moving back in during the summer at the earliest. That’s still a ways away, so you guess you should probably just think about it when the time comes. 

 

Since everyone is together tonight, you all watch a variety show on TV together. It’s your parents’ favorite, and it makes you and Yuuji laugh too. It’s quality family time that you’ve also grown used to on some weekday evenings. Having more people around to enjoy the same entertainment definitely makes the room brighter with all the laughter and energy. It doesn’t ever feel like there’s a dull moment. 

 

During a commercial break, everyone’s still cracked up over what happened on the show when you check your phone to see the messages from your friend back home. When you open it, however, the good mood from the evening is shattered as you see the pictures your friend sent you. 

 

Some of them are of a boy hugging a girl from behind and he teaches her how to aim and shoot a basketball at an arcade. The next few are of them laughing together at another arcade game, and in some of them, you can clearly make out Arata’s face… And the last one… it makes your heart sink lower than the ground you sit on. 

 

It’s a screenshot of an Instagram post from that same user you saw him interacting with online, _kikiyoshi. In the photo, he’s hugging her from behind while she takes the selfie from above. Both of them have big smiles on their faces. In the caption, she wrote ‘love you ❤️’ and tagged a user that you don’t recognize the name of, but your friend’s follow up messages confirm your suspicions. 




‘he has a separate acct that she tags him in… one of my middle school friends follows her and showed me this on her acct…’ 

 

‘she posted that yesterday… and i saw him myself at the arcade today… that’s when i took the pics…’

 

‘I’m so sorry [name]-chan :(‘ 




Suddenly, you’re overcome with too many emotions to be able to understand how you’re actually feeling. Your chest has gotten heavy, but your head has gotten hot. Your hands shake, but your jaw is hard. You’re wracked with anger, sadness, disappointment, insecurity, betrayal, hurt… Most of all, hurt… This hurts

 

“What the fuck!” You scream into the room, shocking everyone still. 

 

“[Name]! What in the world has gotten into you?!” Your mother shouts.

 

“Is everything okay, sweetie?” Mrs. Terushima leans in to ask. 

 

Your breath is so shaky, you barely have the strength to mutter, “Sorry,” before storming out of the room and up the stairs to your family’s bedroom. You call your friend immediately to get all the details and consolation, and when she picks up and confirms that everything she saw was real and in person, you finally start crying. 

 

“D-Did you go up to him and say anything?” You try to ask through your crying. 

 

“No… I’m sorry, I should’ve… Do you want me to go up to him tomorrow and get answers?” She offers. 

 

“N-No, no, don’t do that.” You choke through more crying, “I-I’ll just t-talk to him my-myself… But… but what do I— do I even say??” 

 

Your friend is talking you through different plans and possible ways to confront Arata when your mother walks in. She closes the door and sits patiently beside you while you end your call, thanking your friend again for telling you and saying you’ll talk to her again later. 

 

When you look up at your mother’s mellow but worried expression, you throw your face into her shoulder and start bawling before she can ask you what’s wrong. She lets you cry for several minutes, silently rubbing your back and shushing you gently. Once you finally can speak without hiccuping every other word, you tell her, “Arata is with some other girl…” 

 

“Oh, honey.” She sighs, hugging you just a bit tighter and letting you cry another wave of tears before speaking again. 

 

“Are you going to talk to him?” She asks. 

 

“I want to… But… should I?” You sniffle, wiping at your nose with your sleeve. “I don’t even know what to say.” 

 

“Well, I couldn’t tell you that, either.” Your mom tucks your hair behind your ear, “But you don’t have to do it right away. Take some time to think about what you want to say, and how you’re going to say it before you call him. No matter how it turns out, you’ll at least get to say what you want to say if you’re prepared.” 

 

The way she says it, you already know in your heart that it’s over. With how things have turned out, there’s no way that you and Arata have a future together anymore. And knowing that you have to prepare for a talk that’s only going to lead to the same heartbreaking outcome… it’s like telling you that you’re going to have another home burned down. 

 

Glancing over at your smiling carrot plushie, you wonder if you’ll survive this one. 




*




This is impossible. 

 

It has been at least three hours since you sat yourself down with your phone with the intention of calling Arata, and you just can’t bring yourself to do it. At some point, you started deep-diving on discussion forums on how to approach a breakup and binging YouTube videos about relationship advice. And you’ve really gotten nowhere. You still can’t find the courage or will to call and confront him. 

 

You still have no idea how to approach him about it, and you’re scared to find out what he’ll say. There is no way to predict how he’ll react to you and how you’ll react to him. And so went the entire afternoon and all your courage. In fact, you were so stuck on figuring out how to talk to him that you forgot that you guys had missed your weekly weekend call today. 

 

“You gotta take a dump or something? What’s with the face?” Yuuji’s voice pulls your attention to the door, where he’s leaning against the frame and snacking on a bag of chips. 

 

“Yuuji… it’s… it’s nothing.” You turn back to your phone. 

 

“Right… just like last night how you killed the good mood of Takeshi’s Castle and ran off was also nothing.” There’s no malice or annoyance in the way he says it; merely an observation. 

 

“I just…” You sigh, looking over longingly at the stupidly cute carrot plushie and wishing it would just stop reminding you how much you liked Arata. “Why… would he do that?” 

 

“Ah, so Carrot Boy turned out to be a stick in the mud after all?” Yuuji joins you comfortably at the foot of your futon, still munching away. He holds out the bag to you to offer but you shake your head. 

 

There’s a bit of silence for a moment, until you finally reveal to Yuuji what you found out last night. And what your mother told you, “But I still haven’t figured out what to say…” 

 

Surprisingly, Yuuji looks thoughtful after you tell him all of this. He even puts the chips down in order to give you his full attention, which is more than you ever expected of him. “You see, Hoops,” he starts, “The thing with dudes is that… we usually don’t ever say no to something that’ll be fun.”

 

You’re silent, and clueless, so you let him continue. It’s not like you actually know Arata anymore to defend him. “The fact of the matter is, he’s a good-looking, charming dude. Or at least, that’s what I’ll assume he is since he managed to score you.” He pays no attention to your rolling eyes and continues on. 

 

“Now, you may have been the best thing to ever happen to him back in Kobe. But that was back in Kobe. Dude like him who can still get anyone he wants when his girlfriend is all the way up in Miyagi? Even if he held out at the beginning, it’s gotta be hard for him to keep turning good pussy away just to hold out for one he can’t have anymore.” Yuuji shrugs before he leans back on his hands. 

 

The more of this you hear, the less you like it. “Is that really how guys are? They just live without integrity?” You furrow your eyebrows, trying to fight the disgust in your tone. 

 

“Well, who knows? There are probably special snowflakes out there who will hold out. But your Carrot Boy didn’t peg me as the type.”

 

“Guess he wasn’t…” You mumble bitterly. 

 

Is this the reality you’re supposed to come to? That all boys are just always going to go for the next best thing? You had always assumed Yuuji was that type, at least, but you had put all your trust and love into Arata thinking he was different. Are all boys just inherently the same? Will the next one do the same thing to you? In which case, should you even try to trust someone with your heart like that again? 

 

You spend a good amount of time thinking, and you even start eating Yuuji’s chips as you contemplate all of this. “So what do I say to him?” 

 

“I dunno. I’d say do it quick, like a bandage.” Yuuji recommends, “Not like he took his time to do things in order for you.” 

 

With a heavy sigh, you look down at your phone again, slowly working your way up to determination once more. “Fine. I’m gonna call him. This was the most terrible talk I’ve ever had, but thanks Yuuji.” 

 

“Any time, Hoops. Remember, I’m right down the hall if you need a rebound.” He kindly reminds you as he backs out of the room with a smug grin on his face. 

 

“Was this your plan all along?” You scoff. 

 

“Who can say?” He disappears behind the closed door. 

 

Truly, who can? 




*




“I’m really, really sorry, [Name]. I swear to you, I didn’t ever want you to get hurt.” 

 

“So much for that.” You practically roll your eyes. 

 

You’ve been on call with Arata for almost an hour, and you didn’t have the guts to bring it up until half an hour into the conversation. And although you were expecting it, this is still turning out to be the most painstaking conversation you’ve ever had in your life. 

 

He tried to deny it at first — he tried to keep lying to you — until you shared with him all the evidence you and your friend had collected. And it all went downhill from there. There were excuses, apologies, explanations, tears, accusations, complaints, and just all sorts of drama that you never expected you had to deal with at this age, at this point in your life. 

 

You had left your old home and lost your new one not long after you had moved in. He had been there for you through so much, and you had felt sorry for putting all that emotional burden on him, but he had always assured you that he was alright with it. How could you have possibly questioned that kind of loyalty? 

 

At some point in the conversation, you had asked him if he even really liked you before, and he assured you he did, that he still does. Yet, the doubt you now feel in your heart can’t be reversed anymore. What if he’s still lying to you? You can’t feel comfortable even talking to him anymore because you won’t ever know what’s the truth and what isn’t. 

 

“[Name], I mean it. It’s not your fault at all, and there is nothing wrong with you. Honestly, after all that’s happened to you, this must feel like a knife in the back. And for that, I’m just… really sorry. I never meant for it to turn out this way.” Arata continues with that sad look on his face. 

 

“Then how would you have meant it to turn out?!” You snap, “Were you ever going to tell me?” 

 

“I… I was. I don’t know, I just thought it wouldn’t become this serious. But I was going to tell you. I just didn’t know when…” 

 

More lies? You can’t even begin to tell, and that kills you. 

 

“Well…” you sigh, “I called knowing how this was going to turn out. I just wanted to know how you felt. And I guess this is as far as it goes.” 

 

“What are you saying?” Arata leans in, looking almost expressionless, “Are you breaking up with me?” 

 

There are still tears streaming down your face even though you thought you got most of them out earlier when you started screaming at him. It was not a good moment for you. “I can’t trust you anymore, Arata. I thought I knew you, but it hurts to find out that I didn’t.” You take one more deep breath to think about everything that has happened in the conversation up to this point, until you finish, “And I’ve said everything that I wanted to say.” 

 

“[Name], wait—”

 

“You don’t have to call me anymore, Arata.” You interrupt him. If this goes on any longer, you might just fall back into the charm of those deep green eyes and lose something more than your pride. “I hope you can be honest with that other girl. Goodbye.” 

 

The last look you see on his face before you hang up is one of resigned sadness. You may never find out to what extent his feelings were for you, but your mother at least had a point. This reality you’re left with is easier to face after you’ve said and done everything you could have. Your heart still feels like it’s being torn apart like a loaf of bread being thrown out as birdfeed, but there’s nothing more you could have done. Perhaps it’s better that it was done sooner rather than later. 

 

Still. You take your time to cry for the rest of the afternoon, keeping to yourself through dinner and even skipping your bath. The night passes in exhausting sleeplessness. You fade in and out of slumber every hour or so, the usual lull of your dad’s snores sounding louder than usual. 

 

The next morning, you spend more time in the bath than usual, just sitting there and thinking. Sulking. At some point, your mom knocks on the door of the bathroom offering breakfast, but you decline. By the time you do leave the bath, the water is past lukewarm and your skin is worse than a raisin. 

 

It’s Sunday, so almost everyone is home. When you silently enter the living room to tuck yourself under the warmth of the kotatsu, no one bothers you other than to offer you a drink or snack. And you spend the rest of the day mindlessly watching TV, crying at all the romantic scenes and letting the tissues pile up on the table. 

 

At some point in the evening, Yuuji shows up asking if you want to play Mario Cart with him. You agree and just spend the next hour or two trying to get even with him, but mostly losing because you don’t have your usual energy to be competitive. But you appreciate the company. You even participate in some useless conversation for a bit, which is more than you can say you’ve done in the past twenty-four hours. 

 

It’s a numbing weekend for you, but you’re at least grateful that the people around you are being supportive and not pushing you to explain too much. The Terushima parents are especially pampering with making your favorite foods and offering to take you shopping. But you know you need more time to get over all this. To get over Arata. He felt like your everything for a little while, so you doubt you’ll overcome your feelings for him that quickly. You vow to try your best to move forward though. 

 

Amidst all the douchey things that come out of Yuuji’s mouth, at least one thing gave you some perspective, “If that jerk is gonna go around sticking his dick everywhere while he was with you, there’s no reason you can’t try to move on the same way.”

 

Of course, he also uses it as a playful segway to market himself as an option too, but you find yourself considering his point. If boys are always going around looking for something better, is there a reason why you shouldn’t test the waters yourself? There are plenty of fish swimming around, after all. However, you need to take a few steps to make sure you’ve fully accepted that Arata will no longer be a part of your life.

 

The next morning as you’re preparing for school, when you return to your room to see the large smiling carrot lying on the floor beside your unfolded futon, you know you have to do something. 

 

You wake your parents with your rustling while you’re looking for an empty box, but you assure them you’re fine and that they can sleep in a little more. Grabbing the box and the carrot, you head downstairs to write a note and stick it to the plushie before sealing it inside the box. And after writing down Arata’s address on the top and side of the cardboard, you head into the kitchen to start on lunch.

 

Yuuji greets you good morning and eats a quick breakfast with you before you announce you're going to head out a little earlier first. After making your way down to the post office and getting the box out of your hands, you find yourself feeling a little lighter. Maybe you will make it through this. 



*



Arata, 

 

This carrot was won through your hard efforts. And after it survived the fire to stay with me, I didn’t feel right just tossing it away. You can do with it what you choose. 




***




“Hey, so it’s Christmas in a couple days. You up to join a party?” Yuuji occupies a chair in front of you during lunch. It’s been too cold to play basketball outside for the past few weeks, so you’d just been hanging around in the warm and crowded classrooms instead. 

 

“Who’s going?” You ask, having already accepted the invitation in your head. Funny how at the beginning you would do anything to get away from Yuuji and now you basically go everywhere he goes. 

 

It’s been over a week since you broke up with Arata, and with the winter break coming up, you’ve been lamenting over how you’ll have to spend the cold winter days bored and uncuffed. You had been contemplating going back down to Kobe to hang out with him and your old friends for the vacation, but now it doesn’t seem as good of an idea as it once did. And Yuuji has been doing a great job distracting you with not only his usual antics, but also getting you to hang out with his friends. 

 

Although you have friends of your own, you hate to admit that you don’t have as much fun with them as you do when you’re fucking around with Yuuji and the volleyball boys. And occasionally the basketball guys when they decide to join in. They’ve occupied every one of your afternoons after school this past week, taking you to eat junk food, play arcade or computer games, sing your heart out at karaoke, shop for ridiculous things (you should’ve known better than to follow a bunch of boys into a costume shop), and just keep you talking or smiling. You’ve appreciated it a lot, and it’s made this week easier on you when you have nothing to do in class but drift off into thoughts about Arata (it’s the last week before winter holiday, you deserve some slack). 

 

“Only the cool kids, obviously.” Yuuji steals a tomato from your lunchbox, “We’re gonna rent out a whole ass room at one of the bigger fancy karaoke joints downtown for Christmas Eve. And we will horse around until Christmas morning!” He raises an arm to the air like he’s leading a battle. 

 

You blink at him blankly for a bit, before shrugging, “Okay.” 

 

“Sweet~” he exaggerates in a low, loud voice before turning to your friends, “How about you ladies? We got plenty of space.” He wiggles his eyebrows at them. 

 

Suki, your classmate and fellow orchestra club member, declines, likely because her parents would kill her for being out late on a school night regardless of holiday, and Yuzuru, your seatmate in class, asks if she can bring her boyfriend. When she receives a positive answer, she agrees. You’re glad to know at least other girls will be invited. Because as fun as it is hanging out with the guys, sometimes you feel like you’re stuck in some weird harmen-like situation. 

 

“Are we just gonna order food from that place? Or should it be potluck style where everyone brings something?” You ask. 

 

“Nah, everyone just ends up buying shit from the store anyway. We’ll just order most of it. If you wanna make your crazy good garlic bread though, I won’t be mad.” He leans in to rest his forearms on the edge of your desk. 

 

You almost snort, “We’ll see if I’m up to it.” 

 

“Is there going to be a gift exchange or anything?” Yuzuru asks. 

 

“Nah, that’s too much of a hassle to organize. Plus there’s no point in adding something else to stress about for a party. But of course,” Again, he turns his attention to you, another shit-eating grin on his face, “My arms are always open to accept any type of gift.” 

 

“Yeah, your legs too, I bet.” You combat, not sparing him a look as you finish your lunch before Yuuji can get to more of it. 

 

That gets a big laugh out of his predictably immature mind, and you get a few suppressed chortles from your friends too. His smile is so wide that you can see the silver piercing bouncing around in his mouth to his cackles. “I wasn’t gonna go there, but I did say any gift, didn’t I?” He stands to return to his classroom, “Looking forward to having you ladies there.” 

 

When he leaves, of course your friends give you excited looks and nudges, as they usually do. “You and Terushima-kun have gotten so close after you moved in. I know you just broke up with your boyfriend, but has he tried coming on to you any harder?” 

 

“He’s the same.” You shrug, “Though admittedly, he does have moments where he’s a gentleman… It’s times like those that make me think, ‘oh maybe he’s not so bad’ but then he picks right back up on his usual playboy bullshit and I give up again.” 

 

“Eh… you guys get along so well though. I wouldn’t be mad if you ended up together. You know how to put him in his place.” 

 

“Yeah, he’s not so bad when he’s around you.” Suki giggles. 

 

This has been a popular topic among your schoolmates. Since you’re seen together with Yuuji so often, a lot of the school has just started pairing you together. Not always romantically, per se, but it’s like you guys are a package deal now. If someone is looking for you or Yuuji and can’t find one person, they’ll just ask the other. And when you revealed that you had broken up with your old boyfriend, all your friends that knew about him were empathetic and supportive, but also encouraging you about the chance to get closer to Yuuji. As if you don’t get enough of him already… 

 

You don’t suppose you can blame them, since they can only believe what they see when they don’t really know what’s going on, but it doesn’t work in your favor when Yuuji is actually flirting with you. It’s clear that he’s still gunning for you — in whatever way that means — and your friends can’t help but watch your interactions from the edge of their seats. 

 

And though you’re reluctant to admit it, you don’t mind his flirting as much as you did before. It was one thing when he was just an annoying dude at school catcalling you, but then he became your housemate and his interest in you didn’t wane at all as he saw the real you over the course of these several months. And you can’t deny that your tolerance and even fondness of him grew slowly after living with him over time. Having a boyfriend made it easier for you to write him off immediately as anything more than a friend up until this point, but now you’re essentially free to do whatever you want if you’re willing to risk it. 

 

Does that mean you want to? Yuuji is a busy guy, despite spending a lot of his time with you. You’re fairly sure he’s met, flirted with, maybe gone on a couple dates, and definitely slept with a couple girls over the course of your acquaintance since you moved here. So you know that he’s always looking at what options he has, and you are now definitely more available as one than before. And you’ve honestly been curious to know how good he actually is in bed if he’s regularly got new partners or playthings. 

 

Not directly! Just in general… So to speak. Who wouldn’t be curious anyway? Though part of you wonders if he’s as selfish in bed as he can be in his everyday personality. Is he really just there to get his and go? 

 

He does know where to touch a girl, at least, based on how he would still casually put his arm or hand somewhere on you and catch you by surprise sometimes. You can’t count the number of times he’s tried to caress your leg during a movie, or bump his hip against yours while playing a video game, or just made up an excuse to touch your hair. The surprise would morph indistinctly to something of a shiver sometimes, a reluctantly good one. 

 

You tried not to give it much thought whenever it happened, since you didn’t want to give it power to grow. The guilt of feeling that way from someone who was not Arata suddenly feels ironic to you now. 

 

But you’re moving on. You are, and you will continue to. So you do find yourself making the garlic bread that Yuuji is so fond of on the day of party, along with a nice pizza sauce to dip it in, just for variety. You make a lot, since you know at least twenty people are going to be present tonight. Maybe more. And you know that alcohol is going to be involved in the evening, one way or another, and you’re feeling open to making a bad decision or two should you need to. 

 

“Oh my fucking god, that smells amazing…” Yuuji groans in pleasure as he immediately lifts the foil from your tray to grab a piece of the bread. He makes a show of taking a bite and throwing his head back to praise the flavor, “Ugh! You’re the fucking best, Hoops. Bring it over here with the other stuff.” 

 

He leads you to the large table in the middle of the spacious karaoke room so you can set the tray down. As you uncover the top of the pizza sauce to put in the corner of the tray with the garlic bread, Yuuji goes to town on that piece he nabbed. He’s already reaching for a second piece before you realize he’s finished the first one. “Oh my fucking god, [Name]. This dip? A fucking game changer.” His eyes start to roll back as he digs in further. 

 

“I’m guessing you’ve already had something to drink.” You look to both him and Futamata and Numajiri on the side, who are just chuckling knowingly to your question. 

 

“You look like you could use a few somethings in you too. Get over here, Hoops.” Throwing his arm around your shoulders, he leads you to another corner where a few backpacks are lying around. So that’s how he snuck the alcohol in here... Then he pulls a can of beer for you and then a whole bottle of Jameson to pour you a shot. 

 

“Ew, Yuuji. I fucking hate this.” You rasp after taking a sip of the Asahi. 

 

“Trust me, this will make that taste much better.” He hands you the shot of the whiskey and holds up another of his own to salute. “Cheers.” 

 

“Cheers.” You agree. 




The evening unravels like a ball of yarn, once everyone throws out their concerns about exams, holiday drama, and curfews. Food is abundant, and you’ve got a comfortable buzz going this time, since they could only bring in so much alcohol without being conspicuous. Songs are just played in the background whenever no one is using the karaoke machine, and there’s always at least a couple people in the small dance floor area between the table and the TV. Everyone else occupies a sitting space in the room on the long booth or some of the stools nearby. 

 

You’re exchanging holiday greetings and having conversations with people you don’t usually talk to at school, as well as a couple other guests who came as plus 1’s. Yuzuru’s boyfriend is a cool, quiet dude who doesn’t say much at the party but you catch whispering things to Yuzuru’s ear that make her laugh. He compliments your garlic bread, so at least he’s got manners. 

 

You find yourself having a riveting moment with a boy in the basketball club, when you both recognize an English hip hop song that starts playing and you start vibing to. Moto Kazuya is a regular starting center and is almost always there playing basketball at lunch with the other guys. He puts up a big screen and eats rebounds like candy, so you’re bumping into his tall and muscular frame a lot when you’re on an opposing team. 

 

And you’ve found that both of you are fond of similar teams in both the Japanese leagues and the NBA. So being avid basketball fans, you both have grown familiar with American hip hop music that plays during breaks between the game. You don’t often run into someone with similar taste just because J-pop idols and J-rock stars practically rule the country with their presence and popularity in media. And though you like your fair share of Mr. Children and AKB48, you can’t resist a fun dance that accompanies a hip hop song. 

 

Moto is the only guy who knows the moves too, or at least the famous one during the chorus, so you both dance in synchronization to the great beat and hook playing for a few seconds like you’ve practiced it together before. And when the chorus comes on again, you both look even more well-synced after the first time. It gets even wilder when you both choose a song to sing yourselves and you just end up shouting a lot of inappropriate English lyrics into the room that no one else understands. 

 

It’s a good time for sure, and you feel like you become closer to a lot of people you thought you didn’t know as well before. Even Yuuji, believe it or not. He keeps you close to him after you start having trouble controlling your balance (“You’re the one who gave me the shots!” you had argued) and your dances start losing their fluidity. 

 

At some point in the evening, you’re sitting down with him and a few others at the booth, participating in all sorts of ridiculous conversations, when you start zoning in on the tongue piercing in Yuuji’s mouth as he talks. He notices, “What is it?” 

 

You tilt your head to the side, a sign of your curiosity and also your head feels heavier when you’re a little intoxicated, “Doesn’t that piercing ever bother you when you’re trying to eat?” 

 

“You get used to it. Is that why you keep staring at my mouth?” He chuckles, scooting closer to you with his arm still planted on the top of the booth behind you, “You wanna feel it?” He makes a show of sticking it out and wiggling it in your face.

 

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you wave your hand dismissively, “How would I even feel it?” 

 

Maybe you shouldn’t have asked that. You meant it to be a rhetorical question, but the mischievous glint in Yuuji’s eyes makes it clear that you’ve laid yourself into a trap. He leans in slowly, taking your chin in his fingers, and you’re either too shocked or too buzzed to smack him away (or both) before he gently glides his thumb across your lip, “Oh, I can think of a number of ways.” 

 

His voice is lower than usual, barely audible amidst the party noise, but you can sense the dip in the mood. His comment is enough to make you shoot straight to hypothetical conclusions of how you’d be able to touch that tongue ring of his, and suddenly that strange shiver is back. 

 

“Whatever.” You pull away, hiding your flush in a scoff, “Anyway, Tsucchi! Have you still not decided on a song yet?” 

 

“Sorry! It’s hard to decide.” The libero has been scrolling through the catalogue of songs for the past five minutes. 

 

The rest of the evening passes by in jolly cheer and warm cheeks as everyone finishes off the drinks, food, and exchanging their own little gifts and conversations with each other. You’re fairly sure there was a confession outside at some point, as well as a few other highlights that you’ll never forget. And you’re glad the volleyball club boys threw the party and invited you. You haven’t thought about Arata all night, save for that one breakup song you sang to let off steam. 

 

When everyone is outside of the karaoke room saying their goodnights, Terushima has his arm slinged around your shoulders again. This time, you’re not even sure if it’s because he’s trying to be touchy or if he actually needs the support himself. “G’night guys! We’ll see who looks the most fucked up tomorrow morning.” He laughs as he drags you to walk alongside Bobata and Futamata in the direction of home. 

 

It’s a calming, lighthearted finish to the evening, just walking home and talking to your friends on early Christmas morning. Thanks to them, you didn’t have to spend the holiday moping about not having a man to cuddle with. And even if you were still with Arata, you wouldn’t feel the real physical warmth you feel now with Yuuji’s arm around you to comfort you in the merciless winter since he’s still back home in Kobe. 

 

Home. Huh, strangely enough, when you think about Kobe now, you don’t feel as much yearning as you did before. At the beginning, and through the trouble with the fire, you had wanted nothing more than to just go back to your old house and be comforted by your old friends and boyfriend. Now, though it still isn’t completely home to you, it feels much easier to make your way back to the Terushima household at the end of the day. 

 

He’s made it easier for you. 

 

You don’t know why you do it, but when you close the door behind you after you enter the house, you come up behind Yuuji after you both toe off your shoes and you hug him. 

 

He calls your name in confusion, and turns slightly to adjust his position in your hug. And god knows what brings you to do what you do next, but you tilt your head back to look at his face for a second before tiptoeing up to press a kiss to his cheek, “Thank you, Yuuji.” You whisper, “It’s been the best night.” 

 

And you scurry up the stairs before you can let the mortification settle in. 




***




For the next few days, the energy between you two is charged. You don’t know if anyone else in the house can tell, but you can feel Yuuji’s eyes lingering on you a lot more and a lot longer than usual. He amps up the suggestive looks and little touches when he’s near you, purposefully caressing your arm or hip when he squeezes by you in the hallway, lying his head on your lap to read manga in the open living room, pressing up behind you when you’re cooking in the kitchen, all sorts of things. 

 

The new aggressiveness in his approach is worrying, since he doesn’t seem to care that there might be a parent in the vicinity, but also kind of exciting. Every interaction piles on top of the growing tension between you like a dormant volcano, warming you up from the inside until you’re rumbling to erupt. You grow less urgent to remove his hands from you, or to stop and reroute an increasingly inappropriate conversation, and you wonder to yourself, is this okay? 

 

It’s been less than a month since you called things off with Arata, so is it right for you to feel this excited from interacting with another guy? Granted, Arata didn’t seem to have any problems with it even before you broke up, but you don’t want to reach that point. Does flirting with Yuuji mean that you’re over Arata? That you feel no remorse for moving on? 

 

No, you don’t feel like you’re over Arata just yet. You’re definitely not ready to open your heart to another boy and give him all your love already. But with Yuuji, you know his intentions, so it feels harmless. Knowing what you’re getting into makes the weight of expectations and rules that come with having a boyfriend feel lighter. Yuuji doesn’t seem to be in a rush to find a one and only, since he’s all about having as much fun as possible. Knowing that brings a sense of ease to you, and makes you wonder what’s so great about that kind of frivolous lifestyle anyway. 

 

And on the evening before the New Year, when you’re both settled into the kotatsu and everyone else has gone to bed, you can tell the heat might just spill out a bit tonight. Your parents had told you not to stay up too late since you would all be going out together the next morning for hatsumode — the first shrine visit of the year, but something about the warmth of the kotatsu blanketing your legs, and the warmth of Yuuji’s company keep you there longer, even when the movie is long over and another has started. 

 

Yuuji wordlessly scoots in closer to you, pressing so close that his entire side from leg to torso is touching yours. His arm is around your shoulders as you both lean against the cushions lined up against the wall, the gesture now natural. And tonight, when he pushes his luck, you and he can both tell his chances are higher than usual. Like somehow, the planets have aligned to set the perfect mood for you to let him cross a line. 

 

And when he crosses it, all he says is, “I’m gonna kiss you.” It’s not rushed, or sudden, or full of horny energy, or anything like you expected a kiss from Yuuji to be. 

 

In fact, it’s sweet. And it’s slow enough to feel like it lasts for hours. You take your time to kiss him back, following his lead as he presses his lips to yours in different pressures. You do get a taste of the tongue piercing every here and there, and it’s like a strange little surprise every time you brush into it. The metal is warm and foreign amidst the soft muscle of his tongue, but it adds something more. You think you like it. 

 

At some point, you’ve been laid down on the floor cushions, and Yuuji has much easier access to kiss other parts of your body. He keeps it relatively PG by kissing along your jaw, your neck, your collarbone, and pulling at your shirt collar to get to your shoulders every so often. Though he does slide a hand underneath the hem of your shirt, just brushing and resting his fingers at your stomach and enjoying the softness of your skin. 

 

Somewhere in the distance, you can hear chimes from a nearby temple ringing their bell to announce the new year. And in your heart, you can feel a similar ringing to mark the start of something new. 

 

Yuuji pulls his lips away long after the chimes have stopped ringing (all one hundred and eight of them), only to look at you with a heady gaze, “Happy new year.” 

 

And for once, you’re the one to touch his face before pulling him back down, “Happy new year.” 




*




Surprisingly, it never went further than the heavy makeout session that night. You had both woken up beside each other underneath the kotatsu when your mother had called you both to wake up so you could head to the temple. It was an awkward morning for you, but Yuuji seemed blissfully relaxed. 

 

What did not come as a surprise, however, was how your physical relationship with Yuuji began to escalate at a rapid pace. You freaking live together, there was no way that boy was going to keep his hands off of you now that you had basically given him a green light. It was especially impossible since you didn’t have school for almost another week, and both your parents had to return to work. So every surface in the house was basically free game for fucking. 

 

The first time you felt his tongue piercing inside of you was on top of the kotatsu table. It had been a lazy morning and Yuuji proposed that he had an idea better than whatever cooking show it was you were watching at the time. After making out for a bit, he had you sit on the table with your pants off. He teased you through your underwear first before you were lying on your back and pleading for him to take them off. 

 

The first time you came from his fingers was underneath the blankets of the kotatsu. You were going to kill him because both your mothers and his dad were in the room at the time, all watching a late night movie together. They were under the kotatsu with you when Yuuji slipped his fingers over your thigh and started grazing your slit. And somehow, he unraveled you over the long course of the film to come with his fingers inside of you during an explosive action scene, which thankfully disguised the strange noise you made. 

 

The first time he’s inside you is when you’re pressed against the kitchen counter. You were making lunch when he sidled up to hug you from behind as he usually did. But this time he had something harder to press against you. “God, you can’t even imagine how many times I’ve thought about this.” He had rasped into your ear once he was inside of you. It was a staggering moment because he was definitely bigger than your ex-boyfriend, and your soup had been boiling over. So after turning off the stove, you let Yuuji lift you to lie on the kitchen table and actually move inside you until he came on your thigh. 

 

The first time he makes you come from penetration is in his bedroom, when your back is supported by one of his pillows and he’s got your legs resting atop his shoulders. He had found your g-spot much too quickly, so you weren’t prepared to be so mind-blowingly fucked within the first five minutes. That was also the first time you gave him a blow job, on your knees while he sat at the edge of his bed. After he came, he had fucked you one more time from behind. 

 

The first time you’re almost caught is when Yuuji sneaks into the bathroom during your bath. You had already washed off and you were just beginning your soak when he just waltzed in naked and started rinsing like he did this all the time. He was in the bathtub with you and sucking on your nipples when you hear your mother open the door to the bathroom just outside of the bathing area. Turns out that Yuuji can hold his breath for a pretty long time since he made it through all the questions your mother had when you pushed his head underwater. 

 

The next time you’re almost caught is on an early Saturday morning in Yuuji’s bedroom. Usually, on nights you sneak into Yuuji’s room, you make your way back to your family’s room before anyone wakes up. But this particular morning, when Yuuji was lazily grinding against your ass under the covers, Mr. Terushima started calling his son’s name from the hallway. So you had scrambled to the ground and hid underneath the bed just as his father opened the door to ask if he could borrow Yuuji’s computer for a meeting with his international business partners. 

 

One time, he got you to fuck him at school. It was quite a scene for the books, what with you blowing him in the clubroom after everyone had left and him fucking you against Higashiyama’s locker. “I fucking love fucking you with your skirt on.” He had rasped with his lips against your neck, “You’re so damn cute.” 

 

After that, he started looking for more and more ways and places to have sex with you. The back of the gym, inside the gym, storage closets, empty classrooms, any and every bathroom. The most atrocious incident was after the end of the year ceremony when you almost got caught by the P.E. equipment shed. It was getting ridiculous, the amount of sex you both had, but also exhilarating in how risky and crazy it all was. The adrenaline is probably one of the reasons why you always give in to his stupid ideas. That and the undeniable talent he has in sexually pleasing you. 

 

You had no idea that you could be this horny. But you’ve come to realize that part of it is just that it’s so easy to do it. You and Yuuji are pretty much always available to each other, and over the course of these several months, you’ve come to enjoy not only the sex, but your friendship with him as well. 

 

You have definitely gotten much closer to the guy since you started sleeping with him. There isn’t always time for pillowtalk, but when there is, he reveals a surprisingly gentle side of himself. You find out about his childhood, how he grew into this wild kid who loves self-expression in all its many forms. He has an interest in street fashion and tells you that he can’t wait to be able to afford all the bougie clothes and shoes he wants. 

 

In turn, you share the occasional tidbit about yourself and your experiences. Like how you don’t actually like playing the violin as much anymore, since it was just a skill requirement for you as a child. You got through it on the fantasy that you could play for the school choir and perform with Arata someday, but you were most definitely joining the basketball club come the new school year. 

 

Things naturally develop as the months go on. Third year begins, everyone starts getting more stressed about the future, and you both have sports practice after school now. You were sad to leave your orchestra club friends, but nothing beats the sound of rubber bouncing against polished maplewood. It felt so good to finally play in an indoor court. And sometimes, you’d catch Yuuji and the others in the neighboring gym during your own practices.

 

Both of you still act pretty normally around each other and your friends, and only a couple of guys in the volleyball club know that you’re smashing regularly. You haven’t dared to tell any of your girl friends, lest they accidentally let it slip in their excitement and finally set the longtime rumors of you and Yuuji together up in flames. Honestly, no one seems to have noticed a difference in your relationship because your behavior hasn’t changed much on the surface. 

 

Or at least, yours hasn’t. Yuuji has always been publicly affectionate, and you would let it slide to a point. These days, however, in addition to the usual arm around your shoulders and casual leaning towards or against you, he playfully grabs a hold of your hand or tries to come in for a kiss. You always stop him with a slap or push when it escalates into something too corny or risky. At home, it’s a different story because you know that him holding your hand or kissing you will eventually lead to sex, but out in the open where anyone can see you? Even if it’s not in school, you can’t let Yuuji cross too many boundaries. 

 

Also, it feels weirdly intimate. You would normally only do that kind of stuff with a boyfriend, and you know Yuuji well enough to know that he would not stay cuffed to anyone. Would you ever even date Yuuji seriously? In the past, when you believed in undying fidelity, you would have said never. But after learning that even the sweetest of boys can fall victim to temptation, you’ve grown a new appreciation for Yuuji’s honesty.

 

Is that enough for you to see him as a boyfriend? Maybe not, since you do want someone who’s going to be loyal to you in the long run, and Yuuji doesn’t really fit the bill. You can’t unsee the number of girls he’s hit on and flirted with in the timespan of knowing him. You were one of those girls, for god’s sake. And though you don’t see it as often now, since he’s already got you pretty much around the clock for sex, you won’t ever forget what he said to you about boys never being able to resist new temptations. 

 

Maybe he’s rubbed off on you, because after some time when you had finally felt free of the sadness of your split with your ex-boyfriend, you find yourself casually flirting with new boys. Sometimes with boys from school, sometimes with boys you meet at the arcade or something. Though your volleyball club boys take it upon themselves to scare them away whenever they get too comfortable with you. 

 

One boy in particular that you’ve been consistently friendly with though, is Moto, the center from the boys basketball club who did the hip hop dance with you at the Christmas party. Granted, you’re friends with pretty much all of the basketball club, or at least the ones who show up to play during lunch. Moto is the easiest to talk to though, considering he’s in your class and you both have similar interests in and out of basketball. 

 

You’ve been messaging him for a while now, maybe since spring break before the new term started, since you remember giving him your contact info at the end of the year ceremony. And you’ve hung out with him and the other basketball club members a couple of times — sometimes inviting the girls club members too. He usually ends up being the one you sit next to or pairing up with at outings. He’s built big and lean, so even though his personality is as sweet as a teddy bear, his strength is no joke. You definitely want to be on his team whenever it’s a game of chicken. 

 

He’s honestly the only person you’re in regular contact with other than Yuuji, which sometimes the latter isn’t too stoked about when he’s looking for your attention. 

 

“Who the hell is so interesting that you’ve been texting them for the past ten minutes?” Yuuji rolls over on his bed to hover over you and press a distracting kiss to your neck. 

 

“Mm…” You hum when he tickles at your pulse point with his tongue stud. “Jus— Just Moto.” You gasp when he takes a little bite at your skin. 

 

“That guy?” He snickers, moving his way up to your jaw, “He’s been on your ass since you transferred.” 

 

“Look who’s talking.” You comment when he unbuttons your shirt to get to your breasts. 

 

“Look whose bed you’re in.” He lifts his head up just to show you how big he’s smirking, “And who you’re dripping for.” He adds as he slides two fingers up and down the line of your slit against your underwear. 

 

The topic of Moto is forgotten for the rest of the afternoon as Yuuji uses his tongue to brand only his name in your throat. He fucks you like a monster, and you scream for your life like you need saving, so loud that your parents might think there was a crime happening behind Yuuji’s door if they were around the house. 

 

It’s almost hilarious how much they trust you two to be alone in the house together. Even after you broke up with Arata, they really thought that Yuuji would only play the part of the caring brother and not make any moves on you. You wonder how well the Terushima parents really know their son, and how well your parents know you. You’re all pretty close by now, and can predict each other’s behaviors, but the adults in the room fail to see the blaring sexual energy that emits from you two when you’re together. Maybe they, too, only see what your classmates see when Yuuji comes up to be playful and you just smack him a step away. 

 

Or maybe they’re just too busy grinding away at work, doing their best to save money and support each other. Your family has been paying the Terushimas a pretty low rent fee for invading their household, and everyone takes turns buying groceries every week, but when it comes to money, Yuuji’s parents are the kindest, most philanthropic people you’ve met. Not only have they invited you to their home and treated you like family since you moved here, but they usually expect nothing in return. Sometimes, they even ask you if your parents’ allowance is enough and offer you more. 

 

You and your parents always do your best to show you gratitude by taking up more chores, or splurging on a bottle of nice wine, taking them out to eat every so often, and just being friends to each other. “How will we ever be able to return their kindness?” Your dad always says. And you have to agree, since you’ve been living here for over half a year at this point. 

 

Despite the trials and tribulations that came for you at the beginning of your move here, the Terushimas took all that misfortune and crumpled it up to reveal that they were really fireworks when they threw it back up in the air. Yuuji, too, was his own light when you were in a darker place. And though unexpected — and not exactly solicited — you’ve learned a lot from him. And ironically enough, you gained a valuable friend.

 

Which is what makes the move out harder for you to accept. 

 

Your dad makes the announcement on a hot summer night in Shirahama, where you’re all enjoying a family barbecue in the backyard of the guesthouse you rented for your stay. Everyone went through hell to get the same week off in order to go on this joint family getaway, save for you and Yuuji who just told your respective clubs you’d be out for the week. 

 

After renting a van and driving for eight hours down to Shirahama, you’ve all been enjoying the beach, the town, and the chance to relax together. And tonight, on this last night here in this beach town, you realize it was probably an excuse or celebration for this announcement that your family would be able to move back into your renovated building at the end of the month. 

 

“Oh honey, that’s marvelous!” Your mother goes up to hug him, then goes straight to Mrs. Terushima to shower her in thank you’s. 

 

There are a lot of tears that evening, what with everyone feeling everything from shock, to nostalgia, to sadness, to joy, to pride, to gratitude. You even hold Yuuji in a long hug in front of your parents as you cry into his shoulder. And he good-naturedly keeps his hands on your back, occasionally patting your head with a laugh. You hug each of his parents for just as long, blubbering your own ‘thank you for everything’s and saying you’ll come visit often. And they coo at you about how you’re the daughter they never had. 

 

That night, once everyone’s gone to bed in preparation for the early morning commute back to Miyagi, you and Yuuji sneak out to the beach as you have almost every night here. Only this time, you’re not having sex on a beach towel or somewhere else that requires you to take another shower. You’re just sitting and staring out into the ocean, letting the weight of reality sink in. 

 

“So you’re finally moving out, huh?” Yuuji sighs, spreading his legs out wide in front of him as he leans back on his hands. “Guess I’ll have to go back to eating school bread…” 

 

You laugh, more at how he’s hilariously terrible at being sincere than his joke. “You’ll still find a way to come back and mooch off of mine.” 

 

“You got me.” He smiles, turning to look at you like he wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. 

 

There’s a huge risk in saying what you’re going to say next, you have no idea how big his ego is going to blow. But you take the moment to look into his eyes anyway, “I’ll miss you.” 

 

“Aw, Hoops.” You swear that you see just a faint hint of a blush, even in all this darkness. He swings his arm around you to press you closer to his side, “You’ll still see me. We always have the storage room.” 

 

You scoff, nudging him away from you. You expected him to make a joke as a defense mechanism, but it still hits you that Yuuji will always be this playful, carefree, flirtatious guy whether you’re in his house or not. No doubt you’ll miss that part of him too, but it’s a clear reminder to you that you shouldn’t think too deeply into how Yuuji feels about you. 

 

Snatching you back into his arms, he turns your face to his, so you can see the outlines of his features in the dim moonlight, “I’ll miss you too.” And he kisses your breath away. 





***




Moving is a whole affair, which is surprising because you thought that living in just one bedroom with your parents, you wouldn’t have that much to pack up. But putting together your new and accumulated clothes, school supplies, skin and makeup products, blankets and pillows, and your personal cooking utensils, you and both your parents come out to about ten boxes. 

 

Since you also have some extra duffels, it takes two trips to drive all your belongings back into your newly remodeled and refurbished apartment building. It’s nice and spacious, and since they had to build it from the ground up, they just added another couple floors to it. You’re impressed at how quickly they built this entire building in less than a year, but you suppose the landlord has the money and connections to do it. 

 

Your family held a welcoming party after furnishing the whole place, and it was great to have a whole family meal with the Terushimas again in your own home this time. You and your mom took care to make an extravagant feast, and your dad bought a new expensive bottle of wine to celebrate. Yuuji took his sweet time studying your bedroom, likely noticing all the small details of how you decorated everything. And of course he took the time to make a lewd joke as well, “Your bed looks like it needs to be broken in.” 

 

You didn’t take him up on his offer that night, but he did come over one Friday afternoon to fuck you until your parents came home. He must have gotten used to having you every other day because he’s especially aggressive that day, and energetic. 

 

“Go on, tell ‘em,” he had growled as he thrusted your face into your pillows from behind, gripping at your neck just below your jaw in a tight and enthralling hold, “Let the whole neighborhood know who’s fucking you this good.” 

 

Those who had the misfortune to be there to hear you that afternoon most definitely would have caught on to Yuuji’s name, so you should be careful about that in the future in case word spreads. But still, it’s hard not to scream when he really fucks you just that good . Plus, you know he likes it. You’re more inclined to give him more of what he wants now that you don’t have as many opportunities to have sex. 

 

However, it’s a blessing in disguise that you now have more time to focus on your studies and imbedding yourself into the basketball club for the one year you’re able to be part of the team. Your grades took a short dip in the last semester because you spent so much time fucking your housemate that you barely had time to actually study. God knows how Yuuji’s still kept his rank, but since you don’t have his weirdly intelligent megabrain, you have to work to pick up the slack. 

 

Instead of going home right away, you take a trip to the library or a cafe or something with your friends every other day now. It is your third year, after all, and you do plan to go to college, so you’ve been matching your energy to your more studious friends. Sometimes, a couple of your jock guy friends come along, but they end up distracting everyone in one way or another so you stopped inviting them. 

 

“Hey, thanks for saving me a seat.” You scurry into the fast food restaurant to plop your backpack down on the empty seat of the several tables your friends have occupied. 

 

“No problem,” Yuzuru takes a break from physics equations to sip at her soda. “Terushima didn’t follow you out of practice this time?” She smiles mischievously around her straw. 

 

“He did, actually. But he wasn’t even finished cleaning the gym, so I left and told him not to follow me.” You pull your books out to sit on your spot on the table. 

 

“[Name]-chan, when are you going to do something about that boy? He follows you around like a duckling.” Yuzuru sighs longingly, obviously picturing something unrealistically romantic. 

 

“He does not—” 

 

“Hey, sorry I’m late.” Someone interrupts you with his arrival. 

 

“Oh hey, Moto.” You greet when you see him. 

 

“H-Hey, [Surname].” He smiles back.

 

Moto has proven to be the only jock among your friends who’s calm enough to stay focused on studying, so he’s managed to make a regular appearance to your study groups. 

 

“Have you guys been here for a while already?” He asks. 

 

“No, just about an hour or so.” Yuzuru answers. 

 

“I just got here,” you pipe in, “I’m going to order something. You want me to get you anything?” 

 

“No, I’ll just go with you.” He rocks his weight onto the back of his heels, a rather adorable action for someone of his size. 

 

When you’re both at the counter, he orders together with you and pays for both of them. “Are you sure?” You ask, offering him the money you had already taken out of your wallet. 

 

“I’m sure. Maybe you can get it next time.” He chuckles then averts his gaze, as if he’s already regretting making the suggestion. 

 

“Okay. Thanks, Moto.” And he lights right back up. He even carries the tray with both your orders back to the table for you. The gentlemanly gesture is a breath of fresh air amidst all your monkey-like friends who just grab and go as they please. You like the wild energy, but acts of kindness like this on the occasion are always pleasant. 

 

After studying and loitering at the restaurant for another two hours, some people start to go home. The only ones left another hour later are you, Yuzuru, Suki, and Moto. Since Yuzuru and Suki live in the same neighborhood, they walk home together. You don’t know where Moto lives, but he says he’ll walk you home, so you accept the offer. 

 

“It’s starting to cool down a lot, huh?” Moto mentions the changing leaves in the trees you walk past. “Do you get to see a lot of fall colors back home in Kobe?” 

 

“Yeah, in some places. But most of our bigger parks are all like bonsai and stuff, so it’s not like it’s a big forest of them that you can walk through and admire, you know?” 

 

Small talk is a natural starter for you and Moto. You’ve had plenty of deep conversations with him before, but he’s definitely the type who needs to warm up to it. You could say the same for his gameplay, since you have watched a couple of the boys’ practice games before. As well as a few preliminary games during the tournament last year. He’s a slow starter, but by the second quarter, it’s hard to get past him because it feels like he’s everywhere, and exactly where he needs to be. In his team, he’s a solid foundation that leaves few holes for the opponents to get through. 

 

It’s a hilarious juxtaposition to how the Johzenji boys volleyball club plays; with wild offense and reckless spontaneity. When you watched their match in the Spring High last year, it was an unbelievable sight. The team’s personalities really shined through to their play style, with all the insane shots and instantaneous cover for each other. Their playfulness entertained you even back then. 

 

“Hey… So can I ask you something?” 

 

Shoot, why are you evening thinking about the volleyball boys when you’re here with Moto? You didn’t even realize it, but you’re already walking up to your street. 

 

“Yeah, what’s up?” You bring yourself back to the conversation. 

 

“So… I’m guessing you probably already knew, but… I like you, [Surname].” He pauses to collect his thoughts, rubbing the back of his neck. But for the record, you did kind of know. Moto wears his heart on his sleeve. “I know you’ve been through a lot since you moved here, and I didn’t want to push my feelings on you when you were going through something. But I… Well, we’ve been talking for a while now, and I like you even more than before, so I was wondering if maybe… now would be a good time to ask you out?” 

 

Huh. Now that, you did not expect. Well, you expected him to keep his feelings to himself while you were going through your house fire and boyfriend drama, but you never thought that shy ol’ Moto Kazuya would step up like this outside of the basketball court. 

 

If anything, you do admire him. He’s gone through the proper steps of getting to know you first, being your friend, taking the time to talk to you regularly, letting his interest slip out in little gestures (like his sweet, little, homemade ‘friendship’ chocolates for White Day), and now he’s summoned the courage to formally ask you out. You’re flattered, honored even. But do you like Moto that way? 

 

He doesn’t give you the tingly butterflies that Arata gave you, but he does give off a warm presence that feels similar to Yuuji when he’s being a decent human being. Maybe if he fucked as good as Yuuji too, then you’d— 

 

Okay, that is definitely not the right way to think of him. This is Moto you’re talking about, not Yuuji or Arata. And you know that Moto is a sweet, reliable, caring, and diligent person who would probably squirm away in a hole if he ever upset you. And he’s actually pretty cute; you know for a fact that he’s got a few fans in the stands at games that only ever call his name. 

 

So what the heck? “Okay.” You say, after your silent deliberation. 

 

“Wait. Really?” The shock in his voice makes it seem like he hadn’t actually thought about the outcomes of this situation. Or at least not this one. 

 

“Sure.” You offer a small smile, “I mean, I don’t actually know how I feel about you, Moto, but I’ll don’t mind giving it a try.” 

 

“You— I— Okay! Sure, great! Uh…” He scrambles around, like he’s trying to physically find his thoughts in the air to organize them. It makes you laugh. “So, how about Saturday? I have practice in the morning, but we can grab lunch together and do something in the afternoon?” 

 

“Sounds good.” You nod. 

 

“Okay! Uhm, then yeah. Goodnight.” He makes a gesture that looks like half wave, half salute when he starts backing away. That nervous smile is really adorable. Maybe you could get used to it. 




*




You feel kind of bad for sleeping with Yuuji the night before your date with Moto, but it’s not like you can suddenly stop your regular weekly fucking when you’ve been doing it for a while now. And honestly, it’s not like you really want to either. Is it really necessary to keep yourself from receiving a mindblowing orgasm just because you have a date planned? 

 

Speaking of which, you haven’t told Yuuji yet. You had no idea how to bring it up throughout the rest of the week, and you still have no idea now. Though you have a feeling that he’s caught on to Moto’s small change in demeanor around you. He’s been more playful with you on the court during lunch break — being more physical when he guards you or stealing your rebounds with his tongue sticking out at you — and Yuuji stops by like clockwork to greet/annoy you every day. He noticed that Moto liked you before too, so maybe he also noticed this? 

 

“Hey, you wanna hang out at Futamata’s tomorrow? His brother restocked.” Yuuji asks as he’s putting his clothes back on. 

 

“Don’t you have practice tomorrow? And the tournament coming up? Should you really be drinking?” You scold as you pull your own shorts back up your legs. You’re already wearing one of his old hoodies that you stole from his house a while back. 

 

“No time like the present.” He flashes a grin at you. It makes him look unfairly hot when paired with his disheveled, sex-mussed hair. 

 

“I figured.” You snort, “But I can’t. I have a date tomorrow.” 

 

Yuuji freezes in the middle of popping his jacket collar. “Say what? You’ve got a date ? With fucking who?” 

 

“Moto.” You answer simply, “He asked me out a few days ago.” 

 

“That fucking guy again?!” Yuuji’s voice growls out. The anger in his eyes is throwing you off. “You can’t go, what the fuck?” 

 

Okay, what? “What do you mean I can’t go?” 

 

“What do you mean what do I mean? I’m like… pretty into you.” He finishes lamely. 

 

You take a moment to blink at him, before repeating him dumbly, “You’re… into me.” 

 

“I mean, can’t you fucking tell? I’m always waiting for you after practice, I tell you miss you all the time, we still fuck like every week! We literally just fucked twenty minutes ago.” Now he sounds aggravated, like he was wronged or something. 

 

“I know, but!” Honestly, you don’t even know how to take this. Is this considered a confession too? Does Yuuji like you? Like, like you -like you? The way Moto does? Does that change anything? “I never thought that you’d ever settle down for one girl. I mean, you told me yourself that guys will always say yes to the next fun thing that comes along. What’d you expect me to think?”

 

“Well, I didn’t expect you to accept a date with fucking Moto-kun and still sleep with me, I’ll tell you that.” He almost spits his name. 

 

Now that rubs you the wrong way. “The hell is that supposed to mean? So you can go around flirting with and fucking any girl you want while I’m not even allowed to accept a nice, wholesome guy’s genuine confession to me?” 

 

“I have not fucking slept with anyone since I started being with you.” He retorts, but his face suddenly softens a bit, “I haven’t wanted anyone but you for a while now.” 

 

“Yuuji…” You groan, slumping back onto your bed and holding your head in your hands for a minute. “This is so fucking complicated…” 

 

“What’s so complicated about it? You’re with me, so get rid of that other dude.” He says, almost demands. 

 

“I am not with you.” You quip back, “I have never been with you because I always thought you were just fucking around! Like we’re friends with benefits or something. You never gave me any reason to believe that you were like… serious about me.” 

 

Yuuji walks over to you and sinks down to one knee, picking up your chin to look at him, “Has me spending every waking moment trying to be with you not been enough reason? After you moved out, all I wanted was to live with you again. You don’t know how many times I thought about burning your house down again.” 

 

You can’t help it, you laugh. Just a little. You stop yourself from letting out too much but the satisfied smile on his face is evident. And… it makes your heart flutter, just a little. Just a little. 

 

“I don’t know, Yuuji…” You sigh, pulling your face out of his hand, “I mean… How much do you really like me? What if I moved away like I did from Arata? We’re going to graduate soon. Can you really say that you’d stay loyal to me if we were apart? You saw me when that whole thing happened... I don’t want to go through that again…” 

 

“I swear on my life right now,” Yuuji’s voice gets low in seriousness. He even lowers his other knee to stabilize himself when he looks up into your face, “I cannot imagine going for anyone other than you anymore. And even if I ever did, I wouldn’t do you dirty like that jackass did. You know me, Hoops.” He says almost pleadingly, “You know I’m honest to a fault.” 

 

“Persistent too.” You add with a small laugh. 

 

“Come on, [Name]. You can tell how I feel. Don’t go out with that guy…” 

 

You take another deep sigh, and think. Is this all real? Does Terushima Yuuji really have a thing for you? One that will really make him block out all the other pretty girls in the world? You doubt it’s to that extent, but you do know that he’s not one to lie. That’s the one thing that sealed the deal in your decision to break up with Arata. If you couldn’t trust your boyfriend, you wouldn’t have him. Yuuji can be a douchey, silly, over-the-top tool at times, but you trust him with your life. 

 

So should you trust him with your heart too…? 

 

“Give me some time to think about it.” You say, “I’m going to see Moto tomorrow because he says he likes me too. He’s a nice guy. I told him I’d at least give him a chance.” 

 

“Are you serious right now?” He deadpans. “After everything I just told you, you’re still gonna go see that fucker?” 

 

You’re starting to get a little upset. This entire time, he’s let your relationship stay the same outside of sex, and now all of a sudden he feels the need to control your love life just because he confessed to you? Yuuji is one of your best friends, but even you can only take so much from him. “You’ve been with so many other girls before, Yuuji. I’m sure you know what you want. All I’m asking for is some time to figure out what I want too.” 

 

It hurts to see his eyes harden like this, “And you think that Moto might be what you want?” 

 

“I… I don’t know…” You hug your arms around your torso, feeling like you need a physical barrier to protect you from the intensity of Yuuji’s gaze right now. “That’s why I want to figure it out…” 

 

“Fine.” Yuuji stands, making his way towards the door, “Take your fucking time figuring it out. Whatever.” 

 

“Yuuji!” You chase after him, but he’s already slipped his shoes on once you catch up to him. 

 

“I’m out. Later, Hoops.” He leaves without giving you a last glance, making the click of the door sound louder and lonelier than you expected. 




*




“Hey...” Moto’s face is wracked with guilt as he greets you upon your arrival, “I’m really sorry, but is it okay that I bring someone with us on our date today?” 

 

The face that pops out from behind Moto’s legs is the most beautiful German shepherd you have ever seen. You’re squatting to your ankles in seconds, “Oh my goodness! You have got to be the most gorgeous thing!” You rub your hands all over the dog’s head and shoulders with a big smile, “You must be the famous Dai-kun I’ve heard about. I am more than okay with bringing him along.” 

 

“Really? Thank you so much… I’m so sorry, my parents are both busy this weekend and I forgot he had a checkup today…” He rubs that back of his head like he usually does when he’s nervous. “I’ll take him home after the appointment though.” 

 

“I am absolutely okay with all of that.” You smile, standing again, “I can’t believe I finally get to meet your best friend.” Moto has told you about his dog a few times over the course of your texts, even sending photos every so often. You already adored him from afar, but to think you’d get to meet the beauty in the flesh! 

 

“I can’t believe it either.” He chuckles, “He seems to like you already.” 

 

“What, lil ol’ me? I’m honored.” You give Dai a few more head scratches before turning back to Moto, “Shall we get going?” 

 

“Yes!” He announces, leading you in the direction of a nearby park. “I prepared something for us.” 

 

When you get to the park and Moto throws a ball an impressive distance to distract Dai for a moment, he starts pulling out and setting up a picnic blanket from his backpack. “Wow,” you whistle, “You could’ve joined the baseball team if you wanted.” 

 

“I could’ve.” He admits, putting weighted items on each of the corners of the blanket, “But I like basketball more.” 

 

You keep Dai busy with more fetch — through you’re not nearly as powerful as Moto with your pitches — while Moto gets set up. And when he finally announces he’s finished, you turn to see a whole assortment of foods assembled from a large, two-layer bento box. “Oh my goodness,” you gasp as you sit down beside him on the picnic blanket, “Moto, this is incredible… Did you make all of this?” 

 

“I had a little help from my younger sister, but yeah, for the most part.” He admits shyly, averting his gaze. “I usually make her lunch for her, too.” 

 

“You do?” You laugh, “That’s so sweet. How old is your sister?” 

 

“About seven now.” 

 

“Adorable… She’s lucky to be able to have such a good big brother taking care of her all the time. And an amazing dog to play with too.” You turn to pet Dai’s head, who has turned up asking for some of the food spread out before you. 

 

“We try,” Moto gets Dai to sit and shake hands before feeding him one of the treats he must’ve kept in his pocket. Turning back to you, he asks, “You don’t have any siblings, right?” 

 

“Nope. But I did make someone’s lunch for a while when I was living with him.” You say as you start digging in. “Thanks for the food~” 

 

“Oh yeah, you mentioned that before. But Terushima still came to the classroom to eat from your bento sometimes anyway, didn’t he?” 

 

“He did, that jerk.” You scoff, “Although it felt more like an excuse for him to just come around and bother me.” 

 

“Yeah… He seems to like being around you.” Moto trails off for a moment, “So—” 

 

“Oh my god , Moto. This is so freaking delicious, I think I’m going to pass out.” You groan as you stuff your face with the mini sandwich packed in the array of foods he prepared. 

 

“R-Really?” He blushes, averting his gaze again, “I’m so glad.” 

 

You spend the next hour moaning and praising his food, and occasionally entertaining Dai when he comes around for snacks or attention. It’s nice to have someone else cooking for you and putting visible effort into giving you a good time. Reflecting back, Arata had a nice voice and nice fingers to strum his guitar with, but he was more of a go-with-the-flow kind of guy, so he lacked initiative to take charge on dates. Yuuji is a wild card, and you never know where the hell you’re going to end up or how much shit you’re going to dig yourself into. 

 

But Moto is a caretaker, front and center. Look at him, taking care of his sister and his dog and being responsible in school and with his club activities. He’s clearly suited to the role of protection, and he told you before that he’s looking to join the police academy once he graduates. You can’t think of a more perfect candidate for the job. 

 

He’s already got the build of an officer, you can see. His form when throwing Dai’s ball is impeccable, and you’re fairly sure he could crush someone’s throat with his bare hands if he really tried. He’s boxy in build; squared shoulders, squared hips, thick thighs and arms that are perfect for holding a screen in a basketball play or tossing food in a heavy wok. You only come up to his chin, and you know from playing basketball with him that his arms can swallow you when he’s hugging or holding you down. The words big and strong and capable are usually the first to come to mind when you look at Moto, though his personality softens him up to keep a balance. 

 

In comparison, Yuuji’s arms aren’t as big or hefty as Moto’s, but for a limber guy, he’s got some strength in him. When he makes a loud spike or holds you up by your waist, it’s clear that power can still be hidden within smaller limbs. And you still feel pretty safe in his arms whenever he tries to cuddle with you after se— 

 

You probably should not be drifting to those kinds of thoughts while you’re on a date with Moto and Dai. You should be present in the moment, laughing at how Dai is strong enough to tackle Moto to the ground with some momentum, enjoying this home-cooked feast that was prepared for you, basking in the attention of a boy who really seems to genuinely like you. And yet, this isn’t the first time your thoughts have drifted back to Yuuji while you were with him… 

 

Though you try to be good about it for the rest of the date, you can’t help the way your mind automatically compares Moto’s habits to your old housemate’s. They’re not really even good comparisons that work in Yuuji’s favor. Like how Moto is a perfect gentleman who always gets the door for you or walks on the street side of the road, while Yuuji only ever lets you walk ahead for a chance to touch your ass. Or how Moto always makes sure to ask you if you’re okay with the next plan while Yuuji will just announce that you’ll both be going out ten minutes before departure. Or how Moto offers you a taste of his ice cream first while Yuuji would just eat bits from everyone’s ice cream as if they were all his. 

 

Yet despite all of that, you know those are all essential parts of Yuuji — the untamed, mischievous, boisterous, free spirit that you’ve learned to enjoy being around. And the longer you go on during this date, the more you find yourself thinking about that volleyball monkey boy. Mindless thoughts keep popping into your head like, “if it was Yuuji here doing this, then he would…” or “Yuuji would find a way to get us involved in that…” or even “Yuuji would look cute doing this…” 

 

And the guilt builds and weighs heavier on you as the evening ebbs on. After dropping Dai off back at Moto’s house, you went to watch a movie and every time you looked over to make a comment, you realized you had been expecting Yuuji to be there, ready to react outrageously. You came up with the thought because you wanted him to enjoy it… with you. And though Moto laughs at all your jokes throughout the film, it does feel the same. There isn’t a satisfaction built on inside jokes and common experiences when Moto reacts to you. 

 

It all becomes too much when he tries to hold your hand during the last quarter of the movie. When you feel a damp, but sturdy grip around your palm and fingers that doesn’t make your heart jump in excitement, or warm you up from the inside, it feels off… When Moto holds your hand, it just doesn’t feel… like home. 

 

And you miss out on the last climactic minutes of the film because you’re suddenly gobsmacked in the face with the realization that… Yuuji is home to you. The comfort you settle into when you’re with him is unmistakable. After leaving Kobe, you had felt off-kilter for quite a while, like you would never really get used to Miyagi. It was only when you were around Yuuji that you didn’t worry about belonging, even when he was just hitting on you, even when he became your annoying housemate, even when you were crying over someone who made you feel like you weren’t worth it. 

 

With Yuuji, you were always living in the moment. Whether it was telling him to fuck off, or rallying in a silly argument, or partying hard and living up your youth, you never felt worried about where you were, because you’d always have a friend to turn to. A friend who would always be there for you, and welcome you back with open arms and sexual jokes. 

 

It might be too late for you to realize this all now, but the most decent thing you can do is at least tell Moto the truth. So when you both leave the movie theater, and he asks if there’s anywhere you want to go next, you confess, “Moto… I think I have to go.” 

 

“What? Why? Is everything okay?” He asks worriedly. 

 

“Yeah, it’s… Actually, no.” You sigh, “Not really. Today has been the best date I’ve ever been on in my life, and you are the absolute sweetest guy who I’ve been lucky enough to have like me.”

 

He stays silent, watching and waiting for your inevitable ‘but.’ So you take a deep breath for this one, “But I think I like someone else.” 

 

Moto is quiet. He waits a few moments until he steps back and nods, but he finally says, “I see.”

 

“You are an absolute treasure, Moto.” You step forward, insistent, “You honestly did everything right. You got to know me, became my friend, respected my space, prepared this amazing date… I’m… so lucky that you liked me.” 

 

“But it’s not enough to get you to like me back.” He nods to himself, sounding patiently defeated. “It’s him, isn’t it?” 

 

It’s finally your turn to look sheepish and avert your gaze tonight, “Yeah… I think so.” 

 

With a long and loud sigh, Moto sinks his hands deep into his pockets, “He’s a lucky son of a bitch, I’ll tell you that.” You can only press your lips together in an awkward, but flattered smile, “I’ll still be here for you if you ever need me.” 

 

“Moto…” You pout, coming up to wrap your arms around him in a hug. “I don’t deserve you.” 

 

“You deserve happiness.” His sincerity rumbles deep into your heart. He knows you, what you’ve been through, what you long for. He probably knew that you’d choose Yuuji, considering how he had so quickly accepted your confession, like he was almost expecting it. 

 

“Thank you.” You almost sob, feeling like absolute garbage for hurting this perfect guy who did nothing but his best for you. “And I’m sorry.”

 

“Make it up to me by staying my friend.” He smiles lightly when he pulls away. 

 

You agree without question. Even if he’s not the one for you, he’s still one of your closest friends now, and you know enough pain to never want to give it to any of your friends. You’ll make it right, you swear it. 




*




It takes you a few minutes for you to bring yourself to approach Futamata’s doorbell. You had walked all the way here from the movie theater just to give yourself time to think and prepare what you wanted to say — a whole two hours — but you’re still not ready. This is as nerve wracking as when you were preparing to break up with Arata, because there’s still no way to predict how he’ll react. 

 

Yuuji seemed pretty upset when he left your room yesterday, and you can’t say you blame him. It was a rare moment for him to be so real with you and you answered his sincerity with hesitation. Even right now, you don’t know how to respond to such candor from him, or if he’ll ever bother to show it to you again. What’ll he say to you when you come crawling back to him after telling him you wanted to see what you wanted? 

 

You don’t have much more time to think, unfortunately, because at that moment while you’re pacing the front yard, Futamata swings the door open. “[Surname]?” The setter asks, noticing you immediately. 

 

“H-Hey.” You attempt a casual greeting. 

 

“What are you doing here? I thought Terushima said you had a date tonight or something.” When you only make a sheepish sound and rub at your arm awkwardly, he takes a guess for himself, “Ah, a bust?” 

 

Well… not really, you want to say. Everything about the date was perfect, it’s just that you probably weren’t the perfect girl for it. “I—” 

 

“Why don’t you come inside first?” He waves you in, “We’re playing that try-not-to-laugh game and I was just about to head out for some more water and snacks.” 

 

“Do you want help? I can go with you.” You could use the extra buffer time to think about what you’re gonna say when you see Yuuji. 

 

“Nah, it’s fine. Hey guys, look who popped in after all!” He announces to the living room, where Jiri is currently in the hot seat with a mouthful of water trying not to laugh at whatever performance Bobata and Higashiyama are putting on with a long robe and a makeshift pipe made of newspaper. 

 

Everyone turns and the mood pauses quickly before everyone shouts wildly in greeting, save for Terushima who’s sitting calmly on the floor behind Jiri and the others to watch the show and avoid the waterworks. He isn’t usually quiet when you run into him, so he must still be hung up over what happened yesterday… 

 

Still, you take a seat beside him on the floor anyway, both because there isn’t space anywhere else and you kind of want to be next to him, to be normal with him. “Hey.” You manage to say without tripping over yourself. 

 

“Hey.” He says quickly. You’re afraid he’s going to keep ignoring you and leave it like that for the rest of the night, but he turns to you with a small smirk to say, “You leave Lover Boy out in the cold?”

 

Your immediate reaction is to defend Moto, and yourself, but you hold back and decide to admit it aloud, “I guess I did…” 

 

Yuuji doesn’t react beyond a small scoff before turning his attention back to Higashiyama and Bobata, who have now incorporated a broomstick and witchcraft into their plot. You sit back and enjoy the show, because honestly, nothing is more entertaining than these raucous teenage boys. The fact that they’re on different spectrums of buzzed and drunk make them funnier than usual. A pained gut and your worn-out lungs are proof that you are having the greatest time laughing at all your friends’ stupid antics, and you know this is where you belong. 

 

After Futamata returns from the convenience store, he passes out the snacks and hands you a beer from the fridge. This try-not-to-laugh game can be a hit or miss, depending on how creative everyone gets, but tonight the ball is rolling like there’s gravity pulling it by a leash. Everyone takes their turns to make the person in the hot seat spit their water out, and sometimes, it’s funnier to watch their desperation to win fuel their creativity. 

 

You’re only halfway through your beer when someone complains that you haven’t gone up yet. Yuuji has been in the seat for three rounds now, and spat out his water almost every time — he held it through poor Tsuchiyu’s terrible consecutive puns. Though you’re nervous to put yourself up for Yuuji’s judgement in front of everyone, you can’t possibly say no when you crashed the party this late. 

 

“Give me a sec.” You twirl around the room, looking for some sort of prop for inspiration. Yuuji’s a relatively simple guy; he likes all forms of comedy and it’s not hard to amuse him when you’re having a silly argument, so you wrack your brain for a good improv piece. 

 

You disappear into Futamata’s house in search of something else since nothing in the living room gives you a spark. His bedroom door is ajar, so you peek inside for an idea before your eyes land on something with potential. It’s more of a one-shot wonder, so if Yuuji doesn’t laugh right away, he probably never will. But you don’t have time to think about it, so you grab it and return to the living room for your show. 

 

“Are you ready?” You call out as you approach the living room. 

 

“Yeah!” They all call back, and you can hear a muffled hum from Yuuji, who’s got a mouthful of water now. 

 

Sauntering into the room at a slow, but hopefully sensual pace, you stop beside him and lean in to stage whisper in a low, but audible voice, “Hey… Do you wanna see my pussy?” Everyone’s eyes widen for a second as you lean back, and then pull your shirt up to reveal the small cat plushie you stuck into your waistband. 

 

The reaction is immediate and almost unanimous, with roars of laughter and drunken knee-slapping. Thank goodness for adolescent humor. Some of the water that Yuuji spit out splashed on you and the cat plushie, so you follow up with a playful, “Oh… Now my pussy’s wet…” as you stroke the cat’s head. 

 

This time, you break down with the boys in laughter and throw high-fives out all around. The rest of the night continues in high spirits until people start passing out from exhaustion and overdrinking. You didn’t have much other than the beer, so you’re pretty much still sober, and Yuuji seems pretty chilled out compared to everyone else. So naturally, you end up on his lap for no reason at all. 

 

You’re surprised for a moment, but he seems to have forgotten his earlier displeasure from last night since he was the one who pulled you into this seat. And you’d much rather talk to Yuuji while he’s in his usual playful mood than his serious, mopey mood, so you don’t protest even though a few guys are still up playing video games. 

 

He’s rubbing his fingers up and down your thigh when he asks in a low voice, “So what happened? The date turn into a disaster?” 

 

You hum in thought to buy time, hoping for the best out of this conversation, “He was… great, actually. Perfect, even.” Yuuji stiffens a bit at that, but he continues caressing your leg anyway, still listening. “He brought his dog, and he prepared this whole picnic, and we watched a movie… Everything was… fantastic… But…” 

 

He waits. You would expect him to make a comment or egg you for an answer, but his silent patience throws you off a bit. The mood feels heavier now with his seriousness. 

 

“I think… this is where I want to be.” You put your hand over Yuuji’s, sliding your thumb in his palm, hoping your feelings will go through somehow. “I want you… Yuuji. I like you. A lot.” Heck, you might even love him, but maybe that’s too much to reveal with all your friends still in the room.

 

He adjusts his grip and holds your hand tighter, his other arm pulling your waist closer to him on his lap, “You mean it?” 

 

It’s an embarrassing confession, but it’s true, so you nod slowly with a blush creeping up your face. But he won’t let you look away. Releasing your hand from his, he comes up to tilt your chin back to face him, giving you a gaze more intense than any you’ve ever seen in his bedroom, “Then you’re mine now. For real.” 

 

It’s a declaration, but he still waits for your confirmation, and you only manage to nod once before he’s pulling your head forward to kiss you. It feels like you’re falling, but you catch yourself on his chest, squeezing at the front of his shirt as he holds you close and kisses you breathless. 

 

This reminds you of your first kiss with him; soft, warm, slower than you expected. It’s clear that this is no longer just a hot tongue battle with a goal to get off. He’s kissing you with intention, passion. And though you’ve kissed him countless times before, this feels special, like he’s crossing a bridge to a new era — just like he did that first time. 

 

Had he already felt this way about you that first night on New Year’s Eve under the kotatsu? That night was dense with heat and ardor, but you hadn’t crossed the line just yet. Was that a sign that he had already been okay with just sharing a moment of intimacy? That he didn’t need it to go further because he was perfectly content with just this? You’d like to imagine so considering your friends are still in the room and will likely wonder why you both got so quiet all of a sudden. 

 

Come to think of it, this is the first time you’ve kissed Yuuji or reciprocated any kind of affection in front of your friends. More than half of them are already passed out, but you’re still kissing Yuuji back knowing fully well that they could see with just a look over their shoulders. There’s just no way to resist him anymore. From the beginning, he’s chased after you, wore you down, and got you right where he wanted you. You just didn’t realize that what he wanted from you was something more. 

 

His hands on you are hot and heavy with strength. One is wrapped around your waist to keep you locked tight to his chest and the other has trailed down from your face to squeeze and rub at your thigh, occasionally moving to your ass or pulling up your knees to wrap tighter around him like a snake or coil. 

 

And his mouth — god , what an experience that piercing gives you. At the beginning, it would annoy you, but Yuuji was right when he said you’d get used to it. Now, feeling the little metal stud dragging along the roof of your mouth or against your lips makes you shiver with anticipation, because you know he’s good with it on any part of your body. He uses it like a secret weapon, simply kissing you with more lip or scraping his teeth against yours at first, and then suddenly he sweeps in to remind you that he kisses like no one else. 

 

“Yoooo~ Dude, get a room.” A laugh from behind you pipes up. And surprisingly, Yuuji is the one who has to pull away from you because you haven’t let go. The smacking sound when your lips tear apart feels loud enough to wake the entire house, and if you weren’t so worked up, you’d feel more embarrassed. 

 

Yuuji keeps his hands fastened on you as he adjusts his sitting position to reply to his friends, “Oh my bad, were me and my girlfriend bothering you?”

 

Your breath hitches at his dramatic emphasis on the word, and it sounds like you’re not the only one caught by surprise. “Oh shit, what. For real?” Bobata and Futamata turn to and nudge each other excitedly. Nobuyuki smiles like he’s a proud guardian. 

 

“Go on, babe. Tell ‘em how much you love me.” Yuuji pushes your legs back to the floor and turns you to sit directly on his lap like a chair, so he can wrap his arms around your waist from behind and rest his chin on your shoulder. 

 

There’s no escaping the expectant looks from everyone’s eyes, so you fidget as you find the courage to mumble, “Uhm… I’m gonna… date Yuuji. Officially, I guess…” 

 

“Holy shit, bro!” 

 

“Took you guys long enough.” 

 

“Yeah, for real. Fucking finally.” 

 

Their happy clamors are enough to make the sleepyheads stir a bit, and all you can do is look away so no one sees your flush as Yuuji kisses at your hair by your temple. The celebration is short, however, because Yuuji decides to stand and bring you to your feet with him, “Alright, now that we have announced it, we’ve got other things to do. So if you’ll excuse us, I’m gonna take my GIRLFRIEND ,” he says loudly, and even pauses shortly for dramatic effect, “to get a room, as you suggested.” 

 

“Oh my fucking god, Yuuji.” You protest, but your voice is drowned out by the celebratory whooping from everyone who’s still awake. It feels like a parade or something as everyone hollers and waves when Yuuji leads you out of the house. And though you’re still flustered, you enjoy the way Yuuji takes hold of your waist and pulls you to his side with great gratification. 

 

The walk to his house is familiar enough to you that you can spend the majority of the time messing around and kissing Yuuji back every few seconds without watching where you’re going. And since it’s already long past midnight, there isn’t anyone in the neighborhood to see your disgusting flirting and horny energy. Honestly, you’d probably be grossed out if you could see yourself right now. 

 

But Yuuji returns your lovey dovey feelings in full, carrying you in his arms to spin you around a few turns or putting a hand on your ass or making you climb on him for a quick piggyback ride. It’s a walk full of laughter, fluttery eyes, raunchiness, and pure joy. You almost don’t want it to end, but you know that you have to get some dick in you tonight, so you hurry with him into his room once you get to his house — quietly, of course, as not to wake his parents. 

 

Yuuji only flicks on his dim desk lamp to give you both enough light to see before he throws his jacket to the floor and turns to pull you back to him by the loops of your jeans. As he starts kissing you again, his hands get busy with unbuttoning and pulling your pants down to your thighs. You hold tight to his shirt when he pulls away until you realize he’s getting to his knees to pull your jeans and panties down to your ankles. 

 

Only bothering to pull one foot out of your pants, he swings your freed leg over his shoulder to press kisses and sucks to your inner thigh, edging closer to your waiting core. You gasp as he greets your clit with a kiss and suck first, burying your fingers into his hair. “I fucking knew you’d be soaked for me.” He smirks as he places a kiss lower down your lips, letting just the tip of his tongue peek out for a swipe. 

 

You whimper, your leg trembling in anticipation as he takes only kitten licks first, “Could fucking smell you in Futamata’s living room. I knew I had to get you out of there before we would really start giving them a show.” 

 

“Y-Yuuji… please…” His breaths against your wet skin only serve to work you up, and though you absolutely love Yuuji’s dirty talk, he’s teasing you a bit much for this. 

 

“S’matter, babe?” He looks up at you, bringing his mouth farther away from your core, which is the last thing you want. But at least he brings two fingers to sweep gently against your wet slit. “You want me to lick you? Make you come from my tongue alone?” 

 

You nod with a whine, digging your fingers deeper into his hair, “Yes, I want it.” 

 

“And you want it from me, right?” He quirks his eyebrows up, looking too smug. “Only me?” 

 

“Only you.” You gasp as his fingertips slide in just a little deeper, exciting you further. 

 

“You wouldn’t let that Moto guy do this to you now, would you?” He demonstrates by spreading your lips with his two fingers and giving you a deep lick from center to clit, making sure to drag that metal stud against the apex of your inner walls. 

 

“A-Ah!” You whimper again, leaning more of your weight on his shoulder now. He’s happy to hold you up in his strong arms. “Never.” 

 

“So you’re never gonna see him again, right?” He tantalizes you with another deep lick, then waits for your answer while swirling around your clit. 

 

“W-We’re gonna… gonna stay friends…” You manage to get out, but Moto is the last thing on your mind right now because you need Yuuji to give you more , “Oh, Yuuji please…” 

 

“I hear ya, princess. But you kept me waiting for a while, don’t you think?” He returns to teasing you with only the tips of his fingers again, frustrating you to no end. You know he deserves an explanation, but does he really want to have the talk like this ? When only he can have the upper hand? 

 

“I-I’m sorry,” you say, being completely honest. “I thought you wouldn’t want me enough, so I pushed you away… But you should know, I only want you now.” Yuuji slows to a pause, his eyes becoming earnest as he listens to you. And despite the position you’re in, you can’t be anything else but true to him now, “I don’t care about anyone else.” 

 

You can’t physically see it, but you can tell that something snaps in him. He lets your leg fall to the ground as he comes back up for a feverish kiss that verges on the edge of desperation. You wrap your arms around his neck and he pulls your other knee up to fumble with the remaining pant leg until it’s completely off of you. When he pulls away from the dizzying kiss, his eyes are dark and intense again, “Better not go back on your word now, Hoops.” He whispers breathlessly, holding your hips in a death grip. “Because you’re mine now, and I’m gonna remind you every fucking day.” 

 

You kiss him with nothing but promise and dedication, “I won’t.” You won’t settle for anything or anyone else. Because this is Yuuji, the guy who tricked you into thinking he was nothing but a player when he had been working his way into your heart until there was no way out anymore. There’s no longer a doubt or question in your mind that he’s the one you want to be with. 

 

“Then get on my fucking face. Right now.” He demands. 

 

There isn’t a moment wasted as he hoists you up by your thighs and plops onto his bed. You barely manage to catch his headboard as he moves you up by your thighs himself, dropping your knees above his shoulders for you to straddle his neck. His insistent hands bring you up to his mouth, barely waiting for you to adjust yourself and you wonder who’s really more excited about this? You’re the one receiving head and yet, he’s handling you like a wanderer in the desert who found a reservoir of life in the middle of your legs. 

 

Can’t find a complaint though, considering how your slick lips pretty much melt against the moisture of Yuuji’s tongue on you. “Fuck…” you whisper, closing your eyes as you just feel him move inside of you, touching and tasting every inch of you like he has so many times before. His oral talent should be put on his resume, it’s so good. 

 

It doesn’t take long for you to start grinding your hips down to meet his fervid tongue, your hands gripping hard onto the headboard to keep your balance. Yuuji’s hands find their way to your ass cheeks and squeeze, aiding you in pushing you harder against his face so he can tongue-fuck you deeper. You try to keep your voice in as your pleasure rises with the burn of your working thighs. “Oh, oh, oh… Yuuji… Yuuji! It’s so good.” 

 

“Mnh.” He grunts right into your trembling pussy, which is probably wet enough to drown him if he stays down there for too long. But the way Yuuji keeps your hips locked down against his face as he eats on gives you reason to believe that he’s perfectly fine going down this way. 

 

Your walls start trembling in short spasms once he reaches far up enough to tickle your g-spot with his piercing, but no matter how hard you clench around his tongue, it just doesn’t feel like enough. You want something more, something thicker, harder… veinier. Something that will withstand the strength of your tremoring pussy as you come. 

 

Just imagining being on Yuuji’s cock is enough to lead you to your final steps to reach orgasm, and you’re coming all over his mouth as you just dream about what you know will come next. “Ohhhhhhhhhhh…” Your moan wobbles in pitch, going up and down like beach waves as you ride through your peak while Yuuji is still lapping at you. 

 

“Shit!” You gasp, taking a moment to catch your breath before moving a leg to settle yourself on one side of Yuuji’s head. Not a moment later, you lose the rest of your strength and collapse right beside him. Has he always been that good? Or were you just strung up that high? 

 

While you’re catching your breath, Yuuji sits right back up and brings himself to his knees, pushing you to lie on your back and pull your legs apart to make space for him. Once he’s settled into a nice spot, he pulls his shirt off and throws it to the floor. You only get a short glimpse of his taut torso in the dim light before he dives down for another kiss. 

 

His face is still wet from your slick, and you can taste yourself pretty potently on his lips, but you only want him closer. You wrap your legs around his waist and grind softly against his clothed hips, feeling sensitive but still ready for more. In the meanwhile, he’s got his hands up your shirt, unhooking your bra and pushing everything up to bunch at your shoulders. You part your lips for the brief moment it takes to pull the rest of your clothing over your head and out of the way. 

 

After a few more searing kisses, Yuuji comes back up to his knees to pull his pants and boxers down, “Hope you’re ready, beautiful.” He rasps, his eyes stuck on you even as he shuffles out of his pants. Then, gripping the tops of your thighs, he drags you forward the few inches it takes to close the distance between your hips again. “‘Cause you’re never running from me again.” 

 

You shiver in exhilaration from the dark timbre in his voice, which he feels since he’s already lined up the head of his cock against your drenched and swollen lips. He’s close enough that you can reach your hand up to touch his face, and you look deep into his eyes as you whisper, “Never.” 

 

“Fuck…” He hisses just before he simultaneously sinks himself inside of you and captures you in a kiss. He moves languidly, just enjoying the smooth slide of your walls and how fucking honest your body is with him. You suppose that even if you never told him directly, your body said enough for you. 

 

His kisses grow sloppier as he picks up the pace, changing into a harsh thrust forward for every slow withdrawal. He starts kissing you in pecks, along your lips, your neck, your shoulders, in and between every pump inside of you. You bask in the attention, sighing and moaning in pure bliss as Yuuji takes care of every inch of you. “Faster, Yuuji. Please.” You sigh as he plants a kiss at your pulse. 

 

“Anything for you, baby.” He lifts himself slowly back up to his knees, smirking. You absolutely cannot wait for what he’s going to do to you. 

 

When he throws your legs over his shoulders this time, he rises to his full height on his knees so that your whole body, save for your upper back and shoulders, is up in the air, hanging from him. “Ah!” You cry out immediately when he tilts his hips up to nudge right into that spot that shocks your body into numbing pleasure for the briefest moment. Your fingers curl into his sheets, trying to hold yourself together while you’re at Yuuji’s mercy. “Oh my god.” 

 

“See that, Hoops?” He ruts into the same spot once again, like shooting a perfect bull’s eye. “No one knows you better than me.” He rams his hips into you a few more times as he says again, “No one.” 

 

You’re all but blind at this point since Yuuji is starting to thrust at full power, and you can’t even enjoy the feel of his thick, perfect cock inside of you because he just keeps hitting you right there , again and again and again. You feel like you’re flying and falling at the same time, like you could burst from his unstoppable sniper-like hips — if a sniper rifle had the same amount of bullets as a machine gun. It’s impossible to keep your voice in anymore, so you’ve grabbed one of his pillows to bite on through your pleasured screams. 

 

He’s so good. He’s so good. You’ll go batshit crazy if he keeps this up; surely it’s not possible to have a mental capacity for this much pleasure. “Yuuji! Yuuji, please!” You gasp into the pillow, “Ah! Ah! Ah!” 

 

“Come for me, baby.” He tells you, “I know you want to.” 

 

And come you do. It was only a matter of time that your pulsing walls would reach their limit and start convulsing uncontrollably around Yuuji’s perfect dick, though you didn’t expect it to come only two thrusts later. The sensation of squeezing around his hard, veiny cock is absolutely delicious, like it’s capable of creating miracles. You never feel as whole as you do when your core has swallowed Yuuji whole, keeping him deep and warm inside of you. 

 

Even though you’ve pressed the pillow into your face, you feel like your scream is still enough to travel through the walls of the house. But you’re too busy sobbing over your most intense orgasm yet to care. And Yuuji is still pumping into you. 

 

He’s almost there, you can tell by his concentrated face and hurried panting, so you do your part to coax it out of him by throwing your hips into his thrust and squeezing . You clench hard enough to feel like you might break something, but Yuuji’s reaction is worth it. A growl of a curse rips from his throat as you fuck yourself against him in your still dangling position, and he takes your hips into his hands to start hammering into you. “Shit! You’re so fucking tight, I’m gonna die inside of you.” He growls, then slows to more long, but dramatic thrusts, “Your pussy’s fucking perfect,” thrust , “and it’s all—” thrust , “fucking—” thrust , “ mine! ” 

 

“Yuuji!” The feeling of him coming inside you is enough to make you feel like you’re swelling, bloating with his energy, his emission, his love. You got this out of him. He’s come harder and longer than he ever has because of you , because you’re his now. And he’s yours. 

 

Putting your legs down gently, he falls on top of you for another kiss, a long, lazy one. A perfect topping to the raunchiest, most emotionally charged sex you’ve had to date. You hold each other for a few minutes more, just kissing and taking each other in like it’s all new. Because it feels like it is. A new beginning for you both as a couple. 

 

A couple. 

 

“My girlfriend —”  

 

Yuuji’s voice echoes in your mind and your heart flutters at the memory, and you replay it over and over in giddiness. You’re his girlfriend now. And he’s your boyfriend. Terushima Yuuji is your boyfriend. 

 

You never imagined you’d have a boyfriend after everything. After moving, after Arata, after settling into what you now see as your home. But you suppose that’s appropriately part of being with Yuuji — you’re right where you belong before you know it. 





***





“Thought I’d find you here.” 

 

You turn to find your favorite center forward standing outside the two-point line of the basketball court. The same court you’ve played on during most of your lunches with this very same guy. 

 

“Were you looking for me?” You smile as you bounce the ball a few times and bounce it once to him when he holds his hands out. Moto bounces it right back to you to check and you dribble forward, feint left, go right, twirl around and make it past him on the left to dribble before running the ball into a layup. 

 

You make it. And this time, you let him start check. Funny how the graduation ceremony just ended and you both ended up right here doing the same thing you always did for the past year and a half. 

 

“No, but I had a feeling you’d be here anyway.” He says as you guard him. He dribbles a couple times before just charging straight to your left, pushing right past you with his big stature and leaving you to chase him in a futile attempt to steal it back. He misses once, but he catches the rebound right back and makes it the second time. 

 

You shoot around for a few more points before Moto says, “I’m gonna miss this.” 

 

You let out a sigh as you wipe at the sweat on your forehead, “Don’t count me out so soon. I’ll be back.” You chuckle. You know that you’ll seldomly be seeing Moto for a while since he’s staying in Miyagi to go to a local police academy while you decided to go down to Tokyo for sports communication. “My family is still living here for the foreseeable future.” 

 

Your dad has flourished the most out of everyone since moving here. It was his job to begin with that brought you all here, and things only started going up for him after the first few hurdles. He likes everything about his position at this branch, so you don’t see him moving anywhere else for a while. 

 

“Then make sure to call me whenever you’re back. We’ll pick up right where we left off.” Moto smiles, warming you from the inside. Though he didn’t turn out to be the guy for you, he’s still one of your most trusted friends now. You know that you could never find a friend better than someone who would still want to hang out with you after you couldn’t return his feelings. Yuuji’s still not too fond of your friendship, but he begrudgingly accepts it anyway. 

 

“You got it.” You promise. You bring him into a hug before you both head back to the front gate with your diplomas in hand. 

 

Everyone’s still sharing their last goodbyes with each other as high school students, though the number of people has definitely dwindled down in the last hour since you disappeared for some court time. 

 

“Hey, there you are.” Yuuji catches your attention from one of the blooming cherry blossom trees near the front building. “Oh. And you.” He acknowledges Moto beside you. 

 

“Hey, Terushima.” Moto smiles good-naturedly before turning to you, “I’ll catch you later, okay?” 

 

“For sure.” You wave him goodbye as he walks over to his basketball club kouhai a few meters away. 

 

“The hell were you doing with him again? Did he try a last shot for you?” Yuuji asks. You can tell he’s trying hard not to roll his eyes. 

 

“Just playing some one-on-one, for the last time.” You answer, “In high school, at least.” 

 

“Whatever.” Yuuji harrumphs, “Anyway, I got something for you.” 

 

“For me?” You look up at him in surprise. Yuuji’s not usually one for gifts, so you don’t know what to expect. This could be something totally off the map or a total joke. 

 

But when he pulls a small jewelry box out of his pocket, you almost have a heart attack until you see what’s inside. A pair of tiny, gold hoop earrings. They’re no bigger than the size of a penny, and a pretty tasteful match for your preferred clothing style. “Yuuji…” You breathe. 

 

“They’re hoops,” he says awkwardly, “Like you.” 

 

When you spend the next several seconds gaping at him, he threatens you with a small pout, “You better wear them, and remember that they’re from me. I got ‘em too, so you better be thinking about me all the time.” 

 

Sure enough, you look up to find the same mini gold hoops imbedded in his earlobes, though his are smaller and thinner, more fitting for his style. 

 

You’re still gaping like a fish — blinking like one too — without really seeing anything. You feel like your heart has swelled to the size of a hot air balloon and taken off far beyond where you thought the sky would end. Since you can’t find the words to say, you settle for showing him — like you usually do — by pulling him down by the collar for a kiss. A deep, loving, adoring kiss that you hope he feels down to his toes, because that’s how full he’s made you feel with this thoughtful gift. 

 

This might be your first official gift from Yuuji, so it just feels that much more special to you. Even though you’ll be apart soon enough, this is one of the grandest gestures you could receive from him at this point in time. You’ll cherish it with every fiber you have. And you hope he gets all that from this kiss. 

 

But just in case he doesn’t, you pull back softly and rest your forehead against his briefly, “I love you.” 

 

He brings you closer by the waist to wrap his arms around you, returning every degree of energy in his body to show you, “I love you, too.” 

 

After another kiss, you both part and lace your hands together on your way out of the school to meet your friends who should be waiting for you at a restaurant nearby. “Don’t even dream about fucking around with those dudes in Tokyo.” He mentions off-handedly. 

 

You laugh, bumping your weight into his arm as you walk, “Never.” 

Notes:

pls pretend that all these puns make sense in japanese. also if you recognize that game and joke about pussy, i stole it from smosh. it felt like a fitting game for the johzenji guys

also i know i probably gave my oc moto more screen time than necessary but he is my baby okay

my Tumblr if you don't have it yet

Chapter 17: Hinata Shoyo - Dance with Me

Summary:

no plot just following hinata through post time skip and forcing him into a situationship

Notes:

look, judge me all you want but i truly love hinata shoyo with all my heart. i always have. it's just that since brazil arc, i love him with all my p**sy now too 😔 i know it's absolutely ridiculous to want hinata for myself in a world that is already his own harem, but A BITCH CAN DREAM OKAY.

now for disclaimers: i make some cultural statements that are purely fabricated for hinata's/the reader character's personal experiences and they are not reflective towards the culture or people as a whole. i do not know a lick of portuguese, i literally spent a max of two hours on youtube tutorials and the rest is my blind faith in google translate. and though i imply that the reader is fluent in portuguese and lived in rio for a while, she (can but) doesn't necessarily have to be from brazil!

i'd like to thank Tiffany for beta-reading and dealing with all 35k of my thirst and bullshit. she's a great writer who's always filled with new and incredible ideas, so please go and give her stuff a read/wait for what she's cooking up in the future. i'd also like to thank #SweatyShoyoWeek for all the beautiful horny hinata content that motivated me through to finishing this monster. and ofc, thank you to hinata shoyo (and furudate-sama) for existing in our realm when none of us deserve him.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Moving halfway across the world was meant to bring challenges, along with new experiences. Hinata knew this going in, and he was — still is — determined to make it work. Just about half a year into settling here in Rio de Janeiro, he’s learned exponentially more than he felt he ever could have by staying home in Japan. 

 

Already, he’s learned countless new words in another language (two if you count English too), interacted with and even befriended so many new people, and found unimaginably new ways to get hit in the face with volleyball. Don’t get him started on all the sand-related scratches and bruises. 

 

Still, he’s taking it all in, a day at a time — which feels like it passes faster and faster each day as he learns something new. If not for all the routine body maintenance he carefully keeps up, Hinata might not even have a proper perception of the time passing. Until he discovers a new way to keep track of the days of the week. 

 

“Mornin’ Shoyo!” 

 

Hinata’s eyes snap open at the call of his name and he turns around to see you approaching, decked out in a wetsuit and surfboard in tow. There’s something about the way the sunrise makes your smile glow brighter that makes Hinata want to match you, despite how your face falls with a worried expression when you notice the timer sitting in front of him. 

 

“Oh, sorry. Did I interrupt your meditation?” You look a bit guilty, since you’ve done this before and he’s already told you once to just ignore him whenever you saw him still in the middle of it. 

 

“It’s fine,” he replies, unable to be mad at you when you’re being so sincere. Unable to be mad at you in general. 

 

“No, I really am sorry. You already told me once. Go ahead and do your thing. I’ll talk to you in a bit.” You sigh before jogging off after your friends to the water to get seated on your board. 

 

Hinata sees that there’s only a minute left on his timer anyway, and though he’s usually pretty strict with keeping to his routines, he’ll let this one slide. Besides, watching you catch a morning wave is too fun to miss out on. 

 

This is maybe the fourth or fifth time he’s talked to you? He spends a lot of time on the beach so he gets to know what crowd trickles in at what time of day. Of course, the more dedicated surfers are the ones he finds early in the morning, while the tide offers its most optimal waves. Though you claim that the sport is just a hobby for you, he still finds you here almost every weekend to catch the morning waves. 

 

It’s about fifteen minutes after you’ve entered the water that you manage to finally glide onto a good wave. From what you’ve told him, it takes a lot of mental preparation to approach each wave, and you wipe out at least half the time. But from Hinata’s view, you couldn’t be more majestic, traveling across the length of a tide you’ve commandeered with relative ease and clear experience. 

 

Unfortunately, he has work this morning, so he can’t stay for more than this one wave. But he does make sure to flap his arm around until you see him to signal his departure. You throw your arm up in a returning wave before he takes off, jumping on his bike to head home for a hearty breakfast. 

 

Through the motions of his day, he keeps himself at a steady push. Every day, he’s pushing himself to become more familiar with the environment, the language, the ball, and how each and every part interacts with another. It’s been expectedly challenging, but he strives to learn at least one new thing each day, whether it be a new vocabulary word, a new part of the city, a new play style, a new way to watch how the ball interacts with the elements, how he can adjust his body to interact with the sand, how he can become better. 

 

Despite how he already feels somewhat at home in Rio, Hinata knows there’s more. There’s always more. It had been a rough start, but after getting closer to the community around him and running into the Great King right when he was feeling homesick, things are slowly but surely looking up for him. He’s building his way there. 



*



Working delivery is a tough job, but it’s also one of the best ways for Hinata to learn about the city. He’s gotten lost beyond belief and had plenty of scares so far, but he’s fairly familiar with the area now. He knows the names of all the smaller neighborhoods in the different districts, and he can estimate the time it’ll take to get from one part of the city to the other, adjusting his route to make optimal time. 

 

Still, there are instances when he struggles to find a small room in a mix of apartments in a narrow alley, or he’s sent to look for a specific space in a large, open area. He’s had to deliver to the large park “between the big, blue house and the moqueca place” or “the jewelry booth by the shaved ice stand; you know the one” somewhere within a large street market (which he did not know of, at the time, but it is indeed a worthy shaved ice booth). 

 

And today, he’s delivering to the beach. Sometimes this is an easier job because it’s just a long strip along the many landmarks and numbered addresses, but today, he’s got less than three minutes to figure out which blanket the customer is at. He’s right in front of Rigley’s, the popular American bar along the street, which is where they indicated they'd be near. But among this weekend crowd, Hinata has to do some guesswork. 

 

This is the point where he would start looking around curiously and hope that someone who’s waiting for their food will spot him and call out, or he’ll have to start shouting out his presence to the recipient, whose name Hinata can only hope he isn’t totally botching with his minimal Portuguese. 

 

Today’s beach dropoff is easy, because someone starts waving him over and asking if it’s from the restaurant they ordered from. And Hinata gets an extra little surprise when he sees you jogging up to him from your spot on the beach with your friends, “Oi, Shoyo! Tudo bem?” 

 

“[Name]? Oi, tudo bom! E você?” Hinata beams at your familiar face. 

 

“Tudo bem comigo.” You laugh as you take the bags of food from him before switching to Japanese, “Thanks for the hard work. Do you still have deliveries after this?” 

 

“Yeah, probably two or three before my shift ends today. Have you been here since this morning?” He notes that you’ve changed into your street clothes. 

 

“No, I actually just got off work too. So I came back out to hang with my friends. You should join us after your shift! I haven’t talked to you in a while.” 

 

“I’ll stop by if I can!” He tells you, though he’ll be eating at home first to keep up with his athletic diet. You send him off with a cheerful, “Tchau!” before he takes off to pick up the food for his next deliveries. 

 

It never ceases to amaze him how good your Japanese is. Hinata counts himself lucky to have been able to run into someone who’s so interested in his mother language and culture while he’s here in a new country. Through the several conversations he’s had with you, he knows that you’re studying hard in order to get into a university in Japan. And considering that at least 70% of his conversations with you so far have been in Japanese, your diligence is paying off. 

 

You’ve been a great help to him in learning Portuguese and English too. Though he gets most of his Portuguese education from living in Brazil day to day, and asking his roommate many, many questions, you have a knack for explaining things to him and helping give him a better understanding of the linguistic nuances by explaining them in Japanese. He has a feeling that if he talked to you more often, he’d be able to bridge a lot more linguistic gaps he has. 

 

Later that evening when he returns to the beach to greet his usual evening volleyball companions, you’re there too, cheering from the sidelines with a beer in your hands. “Woo!! Go, Shoyo!!” You clap whenever he scores. It feels good to hear praise and cheering for him, despite how he still kind of sucks at this. 

 

But he’s getting better! He can feel it in his body, in the sand, against the wind. Every movement he makes is calculating and simulating in his head, and he’s getting used to the speed of processing a ton of information at once. In fact, he’s played long enough with this beach crowd to know a lot of their habits by now, and can adjust his play in anticipation of what move they're going to pull next. 

 

He’s been trying this out for a while, guiding his opponents to a certain opening just so he can unsuspectingly sweep it right back up, and he’s starting to see results. Of course, with this pattern of baiting his opponents, sometimes that’ll cause a stir and they’ll start deflecting to new attack strategies, but that’s all the better for him. He gets more research and practice in all types of situations. 

 

Hinata still loses about half of the games he plays in, but with this crowd, he at least finds laughter and enjoyment out of it because everyone is so easygoing. And of course, with a loud cheerleader on the side, it’s hard not to feel supported even when playing a recreational game. 

 

“Sho! That was so good!” You bound up to him with open arms and he accepts your hug, “I never feel bored when I watch your volleyball.” 

 

“Thanks!” He pants, still a bit winded from the game but also surprised by how soft your body feels against his. It’s kind of comforting after an intensive workout. “You’re not usually out at the beach so late. Were you surfing all day?”

 

You laugh, and it sounds warm and sweet, like a Portuguese ballad. “Yeah, kind of. But we’re here because our friends are throwing a little party tonight. We’re going to drink, play music, dance a bit. Want to join?” 

 

Usually, Hinata tries to keep to his rigorous schedule, in order to maintain his health and make his body stronger. He’s been eating right, sleeping well, and working endlessly in order to train himself to join the big leagues. And usually he declines your invitations in a combination of those excuses, but for some reason, he decides to join in tonight. 

 

It’s Saturday night, the weather is perfect, and maybe something about your eager smile pulls him into the idea of socializing in a crowd of people he doesn’t know or have anything in common with. So he says yes, because he wants to, for some inexplicable reason.

 

So about an hour later, he’s inserted into a rather large group of people who surround several picnic blankets weighed down by food trays, coolers, and a large speaker. Hinata declines the beer he’s offered, but enjoys his plate of all kinds of snacks that you insist that he has to try. He’s introduced to a bunch of your friends, but he mostly sticks beside you the whole time, a bit nervous to socialize with his toddler-level Portuguese about things other than volleyball. 

 

But as the night goes on, he finds that everyone is just as friendly and welcoming as you are. He pushes himself to have a ton of chats with a bunch of people, and it turns out that there’s always something to share in common with one person or another; whether it be sports, entertainment, food, Japanese media, funny stories from the past, everyone has something interesting to share. Even when you go off on your own, he doesn’t find it too hard to keep mingling. 

 

However, as it approaches a later hour in the night, Hinata decides he should probably get going, so he takes a few minutes to look for you — which is kind of challenging, considering the number of people here. 

 

“Aww, you’re leaving already?” You pout when he finds you to tell you. 

 

“Yeah, I still gotta work and practice tomorrow with my indoor team.” He smiles sheepishly. He’s still hoping to get up early too. 

 

Your pout juts out even more, but your head turns when you hear the music transition into a new song. “Give me a dance before you go, at least.” You insist, smiling at him again. 

 

“D-Dance??” Hinata is definitely not versed in that. He’s only just getting used to beach volleyball, he’s never tried to match his rhythm to music before, at least not outside of school plays!! “I-I really don’t know how to dance.” 

 

“It’s okay, it’ll come to you.” You grab his hands and place them on your waist.

 

Hinata yelps at the sudden loss of space between your bodies, feeling a nervous heat reminiscent of encountering his gorgeous high school volleyball club manager for the first time back in first year. Though his confidence has improved vastly over the years following his development with volleyball, it still has yet to make him any less squeamish around a pretty girl — let alone a pretty foreigner who’s likely much more used to this kind of contact with the opposite sex than he will ever be. 

 

But you seem totally fine, and you tell him to relax, so he tries to do as you say. He breathes, channeling the power of his heartbeat like he does every morning, and consciously releases the tension from his hands resting on your hips. You adjust his hand to rest at your mid-back and instruct him to keep his other elbow up high with the arm that holds your hand. He tries not to shiver when your fingers brush his upper spine as you wrap your arm around his shoulder. 

 

“Typically, it’s the man who leads, but I’ll take over for now.” You wink as you start guiding his body in swaying movements and twirling steps — or what they’re supposed to be, he guesses. There’s a lot of tripping on his end, trying to keep up with your rhythm and pace while using the right feet to glide into the next step. 

 

You lead him through a few simple four-step sequences, and the moves become more familiar as he keeps up with the pace. But as soon as he’s comfortable with a certain routine, you guide him into some new extension of the dance; a twirl, a spin, at one point you even wrap his arm tighter around your waist and only whisper a quick, “Hold onto me,” as warning before letting your entire torso fall back into a dip. 

 

In his panic, Hinata actually latches onto your entire body and presses you flush against his hips in order not to drop you. And when you swing back up to a graceful rise, you laugh at how worried he must look. Hugging you tight inadvertently brought you much closer and now your faces are practically nose to nose. In another panic, he lets go and replaces his hands to their original positions on your back, “S-Sorry!” 

 

“Don’t be sorry, that wasn’t too bad. Let’s do it once more!” You giggle, and though Hinata is hesitant to continue, “once more” turns into another hour before he realizes it. 

 

It’s only when someone passing by mentions how late it’s getting that he comes to and pulls apart from you, “I’m so sorry! I should really get going now. But that was a lot of fun!” He bows to you. 

 

“I’m glad you had fun. See you around, Shoyo.” You send him off with a smile that could put the moon to shame, and he jogs off. 

 

On the bike ride home, traffic is nonexistent, and Hinata has time to marinate in the lightness he gained from that dance. Paired with the cool night air blowing against his face, he feels more refreshed than any good night’s sleep could give him. He can’t recall the last time he felt like he lost time so quickly in something that wasn’t volleyball. 

 

Brazil has been tough but good on him so far, and most of his time is spent grinding. Though he does find enjoyment in all the small things he does every day, he can’t deny how satisfying a rush of unplanned euphoria feels. You took him out of his head, his schedule, his commitments for just a short amount of time, but it was such a pleasure for him, despite his initial reaction to it. 

 

And when Hinata returns home that night, and Pedro — who is still up — mentions his uncharacteristic late night out, all he can think of saying is, “Dancing is kinda fun.” 



*



Some cultural differences Hinata has had to condition himself to getting used to in Brazil is how affectionate and free-spirited everyone is. Back home in Japan, there was always formality to consider, codes of conduct to follow, and social norms expected of everyone. In Rio, a big, tourist beach city, he’s come across so many different kinds of people from around the world. There are definitely a few wild stories that stick out in his mind from all the deliveries he’s made. 

 

In Japan, greetings were simple; usually a polite hello and a bow, maybe a wave or even a high five with friends. And although Hinata isn’t uncomfortable with skinship — physical encouragement is important when playing on a sports team — here, he’s learned to give out a lot of hugs and handshakes, and he’d like to think he can hold his ground now when doing chest bumps. At some point, all the physical affection with not only friends but also strangers grew to become second nature. And though it’s still not his natural first response, he’s learned to easily return hugs. 

 

Formality has also shifted for him here. There are still formal and informal ways to address people in Portuguese, though he hasn’t found them to be nearly as culturally strict as in Japan, where respect expands beyond language into the lifestyle. Hinata has struggled to find his personality and to best express himself in Portuguese in a way that feels truly like himself, but thanks to help from everyone around him, he’s slowly making his way there. 

 

And another thing that he’s had to get used to, having moved from a rather rural town in suburban Miyagi to a huge, metropolitan city, is the many different forms of expression. If he moved several hundred kilometers down to Tokyo, he would have encountered all kinds of strange characters and people with weird interests. He’d like to think that he’s not completely oblivious to how city life is. And yet, Rio de Janeiro is a completely different world. 

 

He’s seen people walking around in so many different kinds of costumes, some people wearing traditional clothing, all sorts of weird hairstyles, fashion trends, cultural behaviors, street artists, studio artists, and some just overall distracting bystanders. But they’ve proven to be some of the most nice, regular, everyday people (or the complete opposite but he tries to find takeaways). He’s grown a profound respect for people who dress or style themselves a certain way, and he notices that with the year round tropical weather, people are a lot more casual in general. 

 

Spending most of his time on the beach, Hinata has seen people in all kinds of states of undress. He himself prefers to at least have his top and bottoms on, but it’s no longer surprising to see someone whip off a shirt or toss their pants to the side or play a game in a swimsuit. (Sometimes there are even incidents where people are escorted off the premises for taking off just a bit too much.)

 

All of this should have prepared him to react normally when he saw you in a regular swimsuit for the first time. Yet somehow… all this time he’s seen you covered up in a wetsuit or street clothes, he didn’t anticipate seeing so much of your skin. 

 

You’re beautiful, to put it simply and very understatedly. But the sight of you in a two-piece and playing beach volleyball for the first time? Hinata can feel his heart starting to pulse a little more rapidly in his chest. He’s frozen in his spot courtside, just staring. 

 

After you manage to set the ball to your partner and they land a spike, you cheer with a high five and wave at him, “Oi, Shoyo!!” 

 

“O-Oi!” He manages to get out before the next round commences. 

 

You and your friends are definitely just playing recreationally, so he doesn’t feel a strong need to follow your play strategies too closely, but he also kind of does because that may be his only distraction from ogling at your body by accident. It serves you well, because when you’re switching court sides, he gives you a tip to set a little higher for your teammate and you follow through beautifully. All the way to the victory for your set. 

 

“Thanks for the tip.” You smile when you walk back up to him, “Are you here to play already? It’s not even dark out yet.” 

 

“Yeah, got out early from work today. So I thought I’d hang out for a bit and just have dinner out tonight.” He says, keeping his eyes firmly on your face. This never used to be a challenge before!

 

“Oh, well do you wanna hang out with us for dinner? We were gonna go for some churrasco tonight.” You wiggle your eyebrows at him. 

 

Hinata shouldn’t be eating too much barbecued meat if he wants to maintain his muscular growth and overall health, but you wear him down until he’s agreed to stay and even ends up on your team for the next game. 

 

Since he practices regularly, it’s no surprise that you try to utilize his attack power for most of the game, but you’re very receptive to all the coaching he gives you in the skirmish. He and you come out on top, and your victory dance is curvy and bouncy and all the things that make Hinata feel the need to turn away. But he still accepts your victory hug before you all switch teammates for the next game. 

 

The rest of the afternoon is spent in sandy tumbles, hurried shouting, and lots of laughter. Hinata can see the charm in playing volleyball all over again playing with you and your friends. And when you’re all piled into the churrasco restaurant later in the evening, you keep putting more meat skewers onto his plate. “Eat up, Sho! You deserve to be fed like a king for all the sets you won for us.” 

 

In addition to the gargantuan amount of meat he consumes that night, he finds the company to be incredibly enjoyable. You’ve come to be a rather youthful presence in his life. Even though you’re only a little younger, you have so much bright energy about you that makes him unable to do anything but smile in your presence. You often remind him that it’s okay to take breaks and have a good time. He’s here to train hard and get good, but he deserves to enjoy himself every so often. And he’s grateful you’re here to show him how. 




*




“Wow, you’re getting so good, Shoyo!” You offer him a sports drink after Hinata loses yet another game in one of the many local beach volleyball tournaments. 

 

“Hey, [Name]! I didn't know you’d be here. It’s a weekday.” He gratefully takes the cold bottle from you. 

 

“I was passing by after work. And I had some time, so I thought I’d stick around to watch for a little bit.” You explain, “You really do get better and better every time I see you!” 

 

That makes him beam. Nothing feels better than knowing he’s made progress, and the fact that it’s visible to others proves that his hard work is coming through. 

 

It’s been another couple months in Rio and Hinata has continued pushing himself even as his routines started to become a little more comfortable. Work, practice on the beach, practice indoors, working out, eating right, getting stronger… all of it is moving along at a steady pace and he can both feel and see the changes starting to settle in. 

 

“You know what people are starting to call you?” You chuckle, “ ‘Ninja Shoyo.’ ” 

 

Hinata bursts out in a laugh, “Are they really?! That’s actually kinda really cool. But why ‘ninja’? Is it because I’m Japanese?” 

 

“Well, I’m sure that’s part of it, but it’s the way you move so fast on the court! You’re like lightning. It’s like a ‘now you see him, now you don’t’ type thing. Like how do you even manage to bump the ball like that all of a sudden??” 

 

The way you gush about his plays admittedly turns the heat up in Hinata’s face, bubbling a nervous laugh in his throat. He’s grateful for how much support you’ve been giving him and following his progress. It’s coming close to the one year mark of his arrival in Brazil, and you’ve been a loyal fan for someone who doesn’t regularly keep up with volleyball. 

 

Though he often asks about others and gets caught up in getting to know them, you’ve turned out to be a fairly good listener too — and it makes it loads easier when he can babble on in Japanese. Sometimes he wonders if he’s being over the top, but you always insist you enjoy the conversation and his company, which predictably sends the tips of his ears up in flames no matter how many times he hears it. 

 

He ends up spending the rest of the afternoon with you, just chatting as you both walk along the beach until dinner time, when you hit up a local joint that you recommend to him. “I know you’ve gotta stay fit and healthy, but you have to try this, I swear it’s absolutely delicious.” 

 

And you were right, it was absolutely delicious, and he went on about it even after you both finished dinner together. “Gosh, had I known you’d love it that much, I’d have brought you there earlier.” You laugh. 

 

He’s walking along the beach with you again, back to where his bike and your electrical scooter are parked. “It’s okay, we can try to go again together next time.” He suggests. 

 

“Oh,” you pause, looking like you’re holding something back for once. “Actually, there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you. I got accepted into a university in Kyoto! I’m probably leaving for Japan in the next couple of months.” 

 

“What??” Hinata shouts, jumping back. “[Name]! That’s so great! I’m so happy for you.” 

 

“Thanks, Sho. I am too.” You hug him with a laugh, “I’m gonna miss home and surfing and eating pão de queijo and you, but I’m really excited for what’s going to come next.” 

 

You’ve been working so hard for this, Hinata knows. After high school, you had taken this gap year to study in an intensive Japanese language program to apply to be an international student in Japan. Though you had studied a bit even before the program, your progress in Japanese far exceeds what Hinata feels he’s accomplished in Portuguese and even volleyball. And you did all of that while working full time (apparently you managed to save up a lot thanks to the big tourism boom during the Olympics). 

 

“That’s great, [Name]. I’ll definitely meet you back in Japan,” he promises, “Then I’ll take you to eat tamagokake gohan. My favorite food ever!” 

 

“Isn’t that the dish with the raw egg mixed in? I don’t know how I feel about that, Sho…” 

 

“I swear it’s super yummy! Plus raw eggs are safe in Japan! You should definitely try it at least once.” He insists. He’s almost sure that you’ll change your mind. 

 

“Mm… well, alright then. Hope you’ll take responsibility if I ever get sick though.” You joke as you approach your scooter. 

 

“It’ll be great! Don’t worry.” 

 

Hinata bids you goodnight with a promise to find time to hang out more before you leave, and to answer any questions you may have for him about moving to Japan. You laugh and give him a last hug before taking off in your scooter. He stays on the beach to play volleyball for a while longer, but he doesn’t shake the feelings that linger on the back of his mind for the rest of the night.

 

Sure, he’s a bit sad to see you go, and that you won’t be able to cheer him on during his games here in Rio anymore, but what strikes him is that you’re yet another person in his life that’s taken your next step. You’re working hard and moving up towards your goals, and living your dream of moving to Japan for school. He’s a bit envious of your progress but is still struck with inspiration, and it feels like your own indirect reminder to him that he has to keep working hard too. 



*



It’s about a week before your departure. You’ve finally got all your visa stuff settled and your tickets and dorm reserved, and Hinata is so excited for you. He’s been helping you out with some more complicated tasks like filling out certain forms and advising you on which websites to browse through for the right neighborhoods and companies to find part-time work (though most of the recommendations he got from Kenma), as well as giving you lists of places to shop for different things once you get there. 

 

Honestly, he feels like he’s gotten exponentially closer to you in the past couple of months, since he’s been seeing you more often than before. He doesn’t always have time to reply to your messages, but when he meets you in person, it’s often a babble fest for both of you. It feels like you talk about everything under the sun, but the next conversation still surprises him with more. There’s a certain energy you bring with you in your excitement and laughter that he catches like a happy virus. 

 

“I can’t believe you’re leaving next week! What do you want to do before your big departure?” He asks one morning when you’re about to hit the waves and Hinata has finished his meditation. 

 

“With you? Mm… A ton of things.” You ponder, but you seem to decide on something when you turn back to him with hopeful eyes, “Can we go dancing tomorrow night?” 

 

“Dancing? Sure! If you don’t mind me messing up a whole lot!” He agrees happily. He hasn’t danced since that night at the beach party with you, but he knows that you love it, so there is no way he’s going to turn down your personal request. Plus, it was kind of fun that first time. 

 

“Great! Bring your dancing shoes.” You giggle before jogging off toward the glowing, morning horizon with your surfboard. 

 

So the next evening, he’s dressed in a nice shirt and shorts, wearing some sleek, but comfortable sneakers on his feet. Pedro had offered to lend him some more formal shoes, but he had told Hinata that most recreational dances in Brazil didn’t require much dressup. And true to his roommate’s word, you show up in a casual skirt and top. But to his surprise, the dance club you bring him to is more of a garden, and no one is actually wearing shoes as they twirl and rock across the grass. 

 

“There are a lot of great dance clubs in Rio, but this is one of my favorites because it’s just so unique and fresh! And they play some good music for Xote.” You explain. 

 

It’s a very casual and open setup; after walking into the cabin-like restaurant, there are just large doors opened wide for dancers to come and go between the dining area and the garden dance floor. It’s late in the afternoon, but you seem keen to start dancing right away, so after setting your shoes aside in a shelf of cubbies that everyone shares, you lead Hinata to an open spot in the grass. 

 

He follows your lead and jumps after you once his own sneakers are tucked away into a cubby. Now, he’s done this only once before, but there are so many different genres of dance in Brazil, and everyone around him is moving their feet in rapidfire steps with their partners, who match up to their frequency perfectly. Last time he danced with you, you took it slow, and he can only hope you’ll do the same this time around. 

 

Luckily, you’re patient with him, and a great teacher. Every time he messes up (which he does a lot), you just gently giggle or encourage him to try the same motion again until he’s got it down smoothly. He tries to step faster in order to keep up with the fast beat of the music, as well as to make this fun for you, but it seems to get more difficult even as he grows familiar with the steps… 

 

You don’t mind, though, and it’s his saving grace. You guide him easily and kindly until he can perform a nice, slow routine without squirming against your bodies that are pressed together. It’s nothing compared to how effortlessly and quickly these couples around him move together, but you seem quite satisfied, and Hinata is wowed at his own progress. By the time he’s gotten lost in dancing comfortably with you, the sun has set. 

 

He noticed, of course, because the glow of the setting sun would just shine on your skin a little differently with each new hue. And even the light of the garden lamps leaves you looking ethereal as you press yourself close to him and rest your forehead up against his during a slow song. In this gentle atmosphere, with you as close as can be in his arms, he can’t bring himself to close his eyes. He can’t look away from you, even if he tried. 

 

And like that, bodies rocking together, feet tickled by grass blades, and your chest flush against his, you tilt your head up to look at him, into his eyes. The moment seems to stretch and slow at your whim, and he’s taken. Taken by the look you give him, the smile that curls on your face, and unable to move when you come in to kiss him. 

 

He doesn’t know what to do, his hands are frozen, as are his lips. But you bring your hands up to his face to tilt him just a bit closer, at just a slightly new angle, and he’s got enough of a grip to know he should push back. He does his best, as he always does for you, but the longer this goes on, the harder it is to ignore his heart thundering in his chest and sending enough heat to his face to make him faint. 

 

When you pull away, he can’t help but stutter out a, “W-What was th-that for?” 

 

“What do you think, Sho?” You laugh like you hadn’t just hypnotized him into a kiss deeper than the sea, “I like you.” 

 

“O-Oh.” He says like he understands. Which he can, in theory, but it’s hard to wrap his mind around the notion that a beautiful girl would actually like him — him!! — enough to kiss him! 

 

Without further comment, you take his hand and lead him back towards the club cabin with an easy smile, “Let’s go get something to eat.” 

 

“Okay…” 

 

For the rest of the night, he feels like he’s in a daze, yet also hyper aware of you. Conversation is easy to get lost in with you, but when you scoot a bit closer, or you touch his face to remove a crumb, or you just giggle in a really pretty way that feels different than usual, he finds himself trailing off in nervous thought. He’s at a complete loss of what to do. 

 

So the only thing he can do is follow your lead as usual. He holds your hand as you guide him along a few new streets that teem with artistic nightlife. Along several blocks, there are people selling artwork, music albums, handmade goods, and there’s even a band that plays some live jazz music. You can’t stop yourself from tap dancing along to the beat and showing off a few steps and well-practiced hip swings, and Hinata laughs, incredibly impressed. 

 

He and you both leave a few bills in the band’s box before heading further down the block, stopping to share an açaí bowl from a street vendor and just enjoying a night of youth. Sometimes, moments like these are forgotten to Hinata when he’s so focused on working hard, and you always come sweeping in as his breath of fresh air to remind him. There’s a lot more to the world around him than volleyball, and it’d be a shame to let it just pass him by. 

 

You’re skipping backwards along the sidewalk, holding his hands, having him repeat the several Forró steps you’ve been drilling into him all evening to the tune of the music coming from another nearby dance club, when a clap of thunder snaps the calm of the night sky in half. And just moments after, raindrops come sprinkling down to soak both of your clothes, hair, skin… 

 

And you laugh. 

 

A bright, joyful laugh that feels like a celebration of nature, a chime of gratitude to the sky for sharing some rainfall. It’s music that Hinata could dance to much easier than any song he’s heard tonight. And he laughs with you. 

 

Then another song plays. Echoing from the open window of the club you’re both standing by, a sweet string section comes floating out to harmonize with the rhythmic pitter patter of rain on concrete. You hold your hand out to him, and when you smile at him like that — splattered in raindrops, sure to be dripping soon — he can’t refuse. 

 

He listens to the tune playing from inside the club and tries to lead you in all those simple steps you had taught him all night, leaving not a breath of space between your chests. As you fall into rhythm by his hand, Hinata feels a physical separation melt between you. Your hearts beat at the same speed, your eyes speak to each other without words, his cheek brushes yours like it’s trying to whisper to you. It’s only for a few short moments during this dance, but he can only describe it as feeling his soul connect with yours. It’s not unlike making a significant play in volleyball, when everything connects before his eyes and body. 

 

Slowly, the dance comes to an end and you step back to give him space to properly look at you again. Even drenched to the pores of your skin, you’re glowing, and Hinata is enamored by your aura. 

 

But when he feels you shiver just a bit, he suggests finding shelter. His shared apartment isn’t too far away from here, actually. And when you’ve stepped into his apartment, dripping and giggling as Hinata dashes into his room for some towels, he finds it weird to think that he’s glad he got a chance to be with you like this. You’re shaking a bit from the cold, but what he shared with you out there was something beyond romantic, beyond this realm. He doesn’t know if he’ll ever experience something like that again. 

 

And… he finds that he wants to. 

 

While you’re showering off in his bathroom, Hinata paces his room and continues to check the weather report to see if the rain will let up tonight. It doesn’t look to be the case, so his brain starts working overtime to come up with different arrangements to accommodate you for the evening.

 

He could spread out a yoga mat and pillow on the floor as a makeshift futon while you sleep in his bed. Or if you wanted more privacy, he could just move it over to the living room instead. Pedro is still probably up, so he could try to knock on his roommate’s door and ask if he has room to spare for just the night. If all else fails, he supposes he could also just not sleep— 

 

“Sho, can I borrow a shirt?” Your voice calls from his doorway. 

 

He jumps in surprise and then almost falls back when he sees you standing there wrapped in only the towel he gave you, your hair dripping at your collarbones. What an idiot he was! How could he have forgotten to give you pajamas?? 

 

“O-Of course!” He scrambles over to his closet and pulls out one of his T-shirts and a pair of shorts. “Here you go, I think they should fit okay.” 

 

“Thanks! You can go shower now.” 

 

“U-Uhm, sure! Uhhhh, if you want water or anything, it’s in the kitchen. You can use any of the cups. And if you wanna eat something, I don’t have many snacks, but there’s some fruit in the fridge and—!” 

 

“I got it, thank you.” You laugh. It’s enough to send his temperature rising again before he stumbles off to wash the rainwater off his skin. As his body starts to warm from the shower, he thinks over the events of the evening. There were so many special moments that he can hardly believe they all happened just a couple hours ago. Maybe while you’re still here, they won’t end. 

 

That’s exactly how it turns out the moment he re-enters his room to find you sitting on his bed, munching on an apple as you flip through one of his manga books. “Welcome back.” You greet him. 

 

“I’m back.” He replies habitually, but he approaches the room slowly. It’s the first time he’s had a girl in his room, let alone one who had kissed him earli— 

 

He stops dead in his tracks when he suddenly remembers that kiss from tonight. You had kissed him. You had kissed him!!! And now you’re in his room at night and wearing his clothes and exploring his room and—!! 

 

“Shoyo, what word is this right here?” You hold the book up and he’s next to you in seconds to look at the kanji you point out to him. The furigana reads a rather foreign sounding loan word that the author gave in place of the original kanji pronunciation for the purpose of fictional world building, but Hinata tells you the actual way to say it and what it means. 

 

He gets deeper into the conversation with different examples that he finds through the manga and you listen attentively, and bring in your own examples that you can think of from Portuguese. They’re actually quite interesting facts and he writes them down in his notes for reference. And before he knows it, the chat has extended into topics of other manga you both like, and your differing opinions on characters and plots and what makes a good story. 

 

It’s only when another clap of thunder interrupts the conversation that he thinks to look at the time. And it is already quite a bit later than he would usually go to sleep, and even though it’s your last week in Rio, he supposes he shouldn’t indulge himself too much further. You have to get to sleep too, after all. “It’s getting late.” 

 

“Yeah.” You look up at him. And it’s only now that he realizes you’re sitting a bit close. 

 

“Y-You can sleep in my bed. I can grab a blanket and— Mmph!” He’s cut off by your lips pressing against his for the second time tonight. His breath is caught in his throat and he’s stiff as you lean your chest closer to his and rest a hand on his shoulder. “[Name]— I—” 

 

“Relax…” You whisper against his lips. It smells like apples. And your hand gently caressing his shoulder down his arm to hold his own hand doesn’t do too much to still his heartbeat, but serves as a reminder to at least take a breath. He visibly exhales and you come in to press another kiss to him. It’s warm, sweet, and it makes his grip in your hand tighten slightly in nervousness. He hasn’t felt nervous like this in a long time… 

 

Your other hand crawls up his other arm to cup his cheek and tilt him just a tad closer to you, but increases the intensity twice over. As the heat builds, he accidentally lets out a little whine from the back of his throat. He’s endlessly embarrassed when you pull away with a small smacking sound to chuckle gently before pressing into him once more. 

 

He doesn’t know what to do with his hand that isn’t clutching yours, but slowly, he finds the courage to inch it along his bed to rest at your hip. Just like he did when he was dancing with you tonight, easy enough. 

 

“Shoyo,” you say in a way he’s never heard from your voice before. It’s disarming, to hear his name said like that, in a situation like this. “Do you want to turn off the light?” 

 

“O-Oh, o-okay.” He breathes shakily as you let go of him. The trip to the lightswitch is wobbly at best, and he’s too caught up trying to understand all that’s happening to realize what he just did. It’s only when you tell him to lie down that he realizes the gravity of the situation, quite literally as you rest part of your weight on top of him to kiss him again. 

 

This is… much different than just standing or sitting beside you. There’s a sort of weight to the kiss that has nothing to do with your body weight, but rather your closeness to him. This adds an entirely new strike of intimacy that Hinata was definitely not prepared for, yet also doesn’t know how to stop. He isn’t sure he wants this to stop, actually. And that’s the craziest part of all, because you seem to know exactly what you want and how to nudge at him until he wants the same. 

 

Your hands slide down his chest, press at his stomach, and your lips trail down to start peppering at his jaw and neck until he’s gasping softly. “Do you like it here, Sho?” You press a longer kiss at the skin just below his jaw, “or here?” Then at the dip in his collarbones, “or here?” Then at his shoulder where you’ve pulled out the collar of his shirt to press against bare skin. 

 

“Y-Yes.” He gets out. It’s embarrassing, how he can’t even answer your question, but he doesn’t think he can manage anything else. 

 

You look past it though, in favor of kissing another trail across his collarbone, setting his skin alight. If that wasn’t enough to make him combust, you’ve tucked your fingertips under the hem of his shirt and made contact with his stomach. He can feel your fingers surfing the thin ridges of his abdomen and it spreads fire up his neck. That’s his body you’re touching, in a way that no one has touched him before. And though he’s been working hard on it, he can still only hope that it’s up to your standard. 

 

But he doesn’t have much time to think about it, because you’ve moved further up and you’re brushing your fingertips across his nipples, several times, deliberately. His spine trembles a bit against his mattress as you flick the length of your digits across the surface of them and then swirl your fingertips around them until they’re perked up at full attention. He gasps your name under your touch, feeling almost overloaded by every new sensation you give him. 

 

“Is this okay, Sho?” You come up for another kiss, “Is it good?” 

 

“S’g-good.” 

 

You smile into his lips, satisfied to continue massaging his chest with your deft fingers. “Good.” You whisper. 

 

You continue to kiss him until he’s absolutely dizzy, unable to form thoughts that don’t involve how soft you feel. And right when he thinks he’s about to pass out from the pleasure of it all, he feels your hand cup around the shape of his dick down below, shocking him awake. A choked moan leaves his mouth, and he’s panting lightly against this completely foreign pressure against his erection. Gosh, how long has he been hard for? 

 

“[Name]!” He gasps when your fingertips move to dip into the band of his shorts. His hands clutch at your arms, possibly in an attempt to pause you, possibly to stabilize himself. 

 

“Can I touch you here, Shoyo?” You ask, voice gentle. 

 

You’re patient, warm, and very convincing… He shakes from nerves for a while, trying to catch his breath, before you give him another reassuring kiss. But finally, he brings himself to say, “Okay…” 

 

He cannot believe he just said that. He cannot believe you’re about to touch him there. He cannot believe an incredible, smart, sweet, and very pretty girl is going to touch his dick for the first time. He cannot believe this is happening to him right now. 

 

Your touch is gentle, as always, slow to warm him up. After wrapping your fingers around his length, you begin to stroke him languidly beneath his shorts. If he thought he had been hard already, he was clearly mistaken because he’s almost sure that he just stiffened even more with your hand around him. “Is this okay?” You check in.

 

He can’t form words right now, so he settles for an affirming hum and nod, hoping you get the message even in the dark. You confirm his reply with a kiss to his cheek before moving the band of his shorts and briefs down his thighs with your other hand to give yourself more space to stroke freely. 

 

Wow. It feels so nice, having another person’s hand around him, guiding him into another realm of feeling pleasure. You feel so nice, with your soft chest, soft lips, soft thighs, soft body wrapped up around every angle of his limbs. He’s always been aware of the plush, curvy nature of your body, but he didn’t ever think that it’d press and mold so easily to one like his; one made up of harder lines, angular edges, and sharper strength. It’s clear that through your movements, your experience, and your art form that you possess strength far beyond his capabilities. 

 

And you prove it so when you almost boil his soul out of his body with a heated whisper, “Can I have a taste?” He almost mistakes your meaning until you curl your thumb around the dribbling tip of his dick, and the realization sends the heat rising once again. 

 

He feels himself twitch in your hand, and his breath shakes in his lungs, but he eventually gets out some sort of answer that you take as an affirmative to lower yourself to rest between his legs. At first, he’s too busy staring at his ceiling to process what you’re about to do, but once he feels a new, wet warmth close around his shaft, he cries out a moan of surprise. 

 

Using all of his willpower, he gathers the strength to stack himself on his elbows to get a look at what’s going on. And there you are, a picture of relaxed ease, framed by the fabric of his T-shirt, pretty under the glow of the moonlight from his window, with your beautiful lips wrapped around the upper half of his dick. If Hinata was worried about his heart earlier, he doesn’t know if he’ll recover from a sight like this. 

 

It’s a sight so bizarre and unfamiliar to him that he almost wants to slap you away and ask what you think you’re doing, but simultaneously keeps him locked in place, shackled by the pleasure your mouth holds on him. He feels so hot, unable to think, to believe any of this is happening, yet there you are, real and unwavering as you slowly bob your head up and down along the entire length of his cock. 

 

“Fuck…” He curses. 

 

He never curses. It’s just not a part of his vocabulary. But at a time like this, when unlikely things are happening and sending him to places and states of consciousness anew, he finds it hard to say anything else. 

 

You sink down to the hilt, and squeeze your lips tighter around him to drag back up to the tip. There’s absolutely no space between the skin of his cock and the wet, inner surfaces of your mouth. Hinata has experienced a lot of pleasures in life; a perfect spike, a super dig, a good exam score that he studied hard for, being part of a close-knit team, a hearty meal after a rough workout, a heartfelt gift from his family, a genuine congratulations from teachers he respects, acknowledgement from one of the best volleyball players he knows… and somehow, none of it could send him to the heavens like you are right now. 

 

He comes after a lot of panting and with a long moan, falling to his back in the ecstasy his body drowns in. With his load, he’s released all the tension that’s been building since the evening started, he realizes. And it’s only after he finishes that he realizes he should have warned you, because you’re wiping at your mouth with the back of your hand. He gulps at the sight of the white spilling from the edge of your mouth. That had come from him . And now it’s inside of you. 

 

“S-Sorry… I should’ve— should’ve warned you earlier. I— I— it hit me all of a sudden a-and, oh my gosh, I’m so sorry.” 

 

Without a word, you look up at him with gleaming eyes and lean up to capture him in another kiss. The taste of apples has disappeared behind something muskier, something that doesn’t come from you, and it makes him dizzy that it’s because it came from him. “It’s okay.” 

 

He needs saving. You’re too much for him, too good to him. While he’s been swallowed in his nerves and pleasure, you’ve been nothing but patient and careful with him. He doesn’t necessarily need hand holding for this whole thing, but it sure makes him feel a lot better. And the only way he can think of to show you how deeply he appreciates your efforts is to kiss you back, like he means it. 

 

You make a hum of surprise, but let him find his way across your mouth. He tries imitating what you’ve been doing to him all night, but you break away with a lighthearted laugh, “Not so much tongue, Sho.” 

 

“Oh.” Well, that’s embarrassing... But the only way he can get better is by asking for help, right? “Then… Then how…?” 

 

He trails off, unable to bring himself to say it and embarrass himself further, but you take mercy on him once again and have him lean up against his headboard. You sit yourself on his lap and lean in again, “Like this,” you say. 

 

This time, instead of lying there like a stiff board, he rests his hands on your hips and feeds on your knowledge. He moves against your lips the way you do and only occasionally lets his tongue make an appearance, and slowly but surely, he starts to find his rhythm. It’s almost like dancing, a similar amount of give and take, but he tries his best to take the lead, and when you start making little moaning noises, his confidence grows. They’re like little points he’s earned in a rally, and every small victory is just as satisfying.

 

Still, nothing will change the fact that he is a complete novice to this, and it comes to light again when you start grinding your hips against his lap, rubbing on his new hard-on. This pleasure is different from your mouth, there’s a teeming excitement at the thought of how warm you could be underneath those shorts, and he doesn’t want to jump the gun when he didn’t even know he was going to get another kiss tonight, but now he’s insatiably curious about how it’d feel to return the favor from earlier. 

 

With all the patience you’ve shown him all night, it’d be the least you deserve, but it seems you have a different idea of how you want to be repaid. “Sho, I want you inside me.” You pant into his ear when you tear away from his lips. There’s a slight desperation to your voice, one that he feels the need to cater to immediately.

 

“O-Okay!” He stammers, and your shorts are thrown to the floor in the next few seconds. His breath hitches seeing you in his T-shirt and nothing but. It comes down to your upper thighs, but simply knowing you’re naked underneath sends him into another heat frenzy. 

 

Mounting yourself on your knees, you come closer to him until your chest is practically pressed into his face. So this is what all manga and anime go crazy about… He has to say, it is a pleasant experience… Enough to distract him from something important until you’re holding up his dick to aim against your opening. “W-Wait! I don’t— I don’t have a condom—” 

 

His sentence is broken with a tortured groan from being surrounded and utterly swallowed by your warm flesh. His hands tighten on your hips as he gasps your name into the ceiling. “It’s alright, Sho, I’m on birth control.” You hold his face and lean down for a kiss, before whispering, “You’re the perfect size.” 

 

If the headboard wasn’t supporting him right now, he’d have lost all the strength in his torso from such a comment. Even if you’re just saying it, to think that something unchangeable about his body that he was born with — after years and years of being told his height would never be enough for the sport he loved — would be called perfect. It’s an experience. 

 

He kisses you. It’s the only thing he can think of doing in a situation like this. He has to share the intimacy he feels with you, have it translated through his body language. You kiss him right back. And then, you start moving. 

 

Good gracious, it’s a feeling like no other; the slide of your warm walls that hug his cock without a barrier. There is not a thing that physically separates you from him anymore; he’s inside you, one with you. Is this why people change? Is this what turns people into adults? Makes them fight wars? Creates life? Hinata can feel his entire perspective shifting in this very moment as you bounce your hips on top of him, sheathing his hard length over and over again with your inviting warmth that could never be recreated by something else. 

 

You bounce on him, roll and grind against him, squeeze around him, and every new sensation is enough to make Hinata cry out for his life. He’s gripping it by the tail to stay conscious because not only do you feel incredible beyond words, but even in the dark, you’re a vision of uncontested beauty. Your damp hair falls across your face and shoulders, your breasts bounce visibly even hidden underneath his T-shirt, and the face you make as you pant and grind into his hips is incontestable. He’s young and yet to see a lot of the world, but he’s fairly sure that there won’t ever be a picture as pretty as this. 

 

“Sho…” You whine, clutching onto his shoulders as you keep sinking onto his dick beneath you, “Tão bom...” It’s so good.  

 

You bring your hand down between your legs to rub at the top of your slit, and your panting grows harder. And even losing your breath, you come in to kiss him as you continue rubbing and grinding and squeezing. This time, Hinata just barely remembers to pull away fast enough to warn you, “I’m… I’m almost…” before you silence him with another kiss and then rub yourself into your peak. 

 

And good god, the way you pulse and vibrate and drum around him as you come gets him to follow right after. He’s groaning and shaking and deathly gripping your hips, which inadvertently keeps you locked down and around him while he’s emptying himself inside you. “Shoyo!” You cry, tossing your head back and continue to roll your hips out in wake of your orgasm. 

 

The pure euphoria swimming in his head and body and dick is enough to get him to pass out right there. He’s a little sweaty and it feels like all the strength he’s trained this past almost-year for has completely drained out of him. This is the effect you have on him, the power you have over him. 

 

You’re catching your breath as you climb down yourself, but you finish off with a gentle kiss to his lips before removing yourself from his lap to search for the towel you had used earlier. It’s a dense silence, and Hinata’s head is swimming with thoughts of what just transpired between you, and what he’s supposed to say afterwards, and if he should’ve done better. 

 

And as always, you relieve him of his worries by simply climbing into his bed to cuddle with him after pulling your shorts back on. He feels like there’s much to talk about, but you’re tucked out against his side, so he decides it’ll have to wait.

 

Though, he supposes as he pulls the blanket over the both of you, with how patient you’ve been with him, this is the least he can do. 



*



Unfortunately, he has practice with Kato’s team early the next morning, so he can’t stay with you to unravel the entire debacle of the previous evening. He does wake you gently to tell you that you’re free to sleep in as long as you like, but he has to get going so he’ll see you later. You had given him a sleepy smile as a send-off and Hinata can say that just might have been one of the most endearing goodbyes he’s ever received. 

 

To his further misfortune, however, he ends up being quite busy for the rest of the week, and the same goes for you as you prepare everything for your departure. So with the madness of your busy lives being unable to sync up again, he ends up being unable to see you in person again before you have to take off. You do video call him that morning so that he can send you off virtually, at least, but it seems that the time and opportunity to address what happened between him and you that night has passed. 

 

“I’ll definitely see you back in Japan.” He promises. If fate is anything, it’s long-winded. If he has to wait years to train and get good enough to face Kageyama as an opponent again, he can wait to talk properly to you, too. 

 

“I’ll see you there.” you give him a last smile before waving and hanging up. Hinata finds renewed energy to go on about his day. 

 

So he keeps training, he keeps playing, he keeps learning. For months and months, he keeps up with the diligent workouts, switching beach partners, eating healthy, educating himself in both Brazilian culture and volleyball, and working to become better at everything he needs to get better at. He does miss seeing you join the weekend morning surfers and hanging out by the beach, but thanks to you, he remembers to take his breaks too. 

 

Actually, your influence in his life seems to extend past himself because after a few weeks of playing with Heitor, one of his now regular partners and a pretty good athlete, Hinata finds out Heitor was indirectly led to him by you. It’s during another one of the local tournaments and Heitor’s girlfriend, Nice, is watching on the sidelines. After they manage to snag the win for the game, Nice goes on about how glad she is that her boyfriend found him. 

 

“How did you find out about me anyway?” He asks out of curiosity. 

 

“Oh everyone knows about you. You’re Ninja Shoyo!” Nice answers, and Hinata laughs at how that name really ended up catching on. “But actually, I guess I got a pretty good idea because my old coworker would always go on and on about this amazing volleyball player from Japan.” 

 

“Your coworker?” 

 

“Yeah, [Name] [Surname]. She said you were friends.” She laughs, “I tell ya, she was obsessed with you. And I’m kinda glad because I could finally talk to her about beach volleyball.”

 

To think, even when you’re halfway across the world now, you still find ways to improve his life. Hinata doesn’t know how he’ll be able to show you his gratitude. He actually hasn’t contacted you very much in a while, other than checking in every few weeks or so. You’re just as busy as he is, getting settled into your life as a university student and getting more involved around the campus. But he does make sure to message you that evening to thank you for indirectly sending an amazing beach partner his way. 

 

Your reply is full of energy and exclamation points, and he ends up on a video call with you later that night to get updated with what’s happening in your life. You’ve been in Kyoto for almost a year at this point, and right now in the middle of your second semester, you’ve already joined one of the dance teams on campus, made a bunch of new friends, gotten used to your part-time job, and you’re getting close to one of your favorite professors. 

 

He tells you about all the games he’s been playing, how he’s getting close to the next circuit in the SolCard Cup, some funny stories about the kids he teaches, and that he recently revisited that restaurant you introduced him to a while ago. Eventually though, you have to start preparing for your first class, and Hinata should head out to the beach for the evening, so you both wrap up the call with another promise to talk soon. 

 

And he knows it won’t be long until he sees you again. His time in Rio is almost up, so before he can pack his things and fly home, he has to make the most out of the rest of his time here. He trains and practices and plays as many games as possible, gets as much experience as he can get, at every opportunity he can find. And before he knows it, he’s watching Heitor get married, playing his last game, and spending hours organizing the two years of his life he’s spent in Brazil into a couple of suitcases. 

 

It’s a weird feeling, for sure. He loved his time here, and all the friends he made, and he’ll cherish these memories forever. He’ll honor them all by continuing to work hard and build his legacy through his volleyball, no matter where he ends up. And right now, Japan is waiting for his return, to see how he’s progressed. And he’s got a lot to prove. 



*



It’s a shame he doesn’t manage to catch everyone before he has to try out for the MSBY Black Jackals and move to the city once he passes tryouts. He got to see his family, several close friends, some old coaches, and a few others he just happened to run into, but getting into a nationally ranked team was of utmost priority. He had no time to waste, and he needed to embed himself as part of the team quickly if he wanted to play in the upcoming season. 

 

Still, he missed the free period you had before your new semester started because you had been traveling and even went back home for a visit. It seems that his and your schedules never managed to sync up since he got back. But you’re determined to change that, because into the first month of his joining with the Black Jackals and your new semester, you decide to take the weekend to make a trip over to the MSBY homeground. 

 

Luckily, Kyoto isn’t too far from where they are, and a weekend trip is completely feasible for you since the workload hasn’t picked up at this point in the semester yet. So he agrees to let you stay over for the two nights at his new apartment and you book the train ticket immediately. 

 

The day of your intended arrival, Hinata is doing great in practice. There’s an excitement that buzzes in his limbs and makes him feel like he’s whirring like a machine for every ball set up for him. His teammates seem to notice and match up to his energy for a great practice that makes everyone feel slightly closer than before. 

 

“Daaang, Hinata! You were on fire today! Did you eat something really good for lunch?” Bokuto exclaims as they’re cooling down for the day. 

 

“I did! I had some really good fish! And my omelettes turned out really well today.” He says proudly, to which the owl-like man ooh’s in envy. “But that’s not why I’m excited. A good friend from Rio is coming to visit tonight!” 

 

“Oh really?? Cool!” Bokuto exclaims. “They’re coming all the way from Brazil to see you??” 

 

“Someone else ya played beach volleyball with?” Atsumu asks from the side, filing his nails as he’s finished his stretches already. 

 

“Nope! She’s not a volleyball player. We met in Brazil but she’s a student over in Kyoto right now. We didn’t have time to meet up since I got back, so she’s making her way over for the weekend.” He smiles. 

 

“Oh, ‘she’? And not a volleyball player? A special lady friend, perhaps?” Atsumu looks up from his nails to send Hinata a teasing look. 

 

“Ohhh! To think, Hinata was gettin’ around with the ladies on the other side of the world! Good for you, Hinata!” Bokuto claps him on the back with a proud grin. 

 

“It’s not like that!” He denies, though in all honesty, he can’t be truly sure it isn’t. He still hasn’t had a chance to bring up that one night and it’s been so long since it happened that it’s almost a distant memory now. Or it would be distant, if it didn’t come up in his mind again every time he talks to you or a different girl tries to harmlessly flirt with him. “W-We’re good friends.” 

 

“Ya don’t sound super sure about that, Shoyo-kun.” Atsumu smirks. “Ya gonna introduce her to us this weekend? We still have practice tomorrow.” 

 

“Well, I guess I could, if she wants to come.” Hinata ponders. He had already told you he still had practice on Saturday, though it’d be a half day, and you said that you’d be happy to drop in and watch. Coach Foster was okay with allowing a guest, even though practices were generally private, since you were his friend.  

 

He doesn’t know what you’d think about his team. You’ve seen him play volleyball countless times on the beach, but these are all people he has some sort of history and relationship with. Not to mention, it’s much easier to communicate back home where almost everyone speaks his mother tongue. He wonders if you’ll see a different side of him here, and he internally hopes it’s a cooler side... 

 

But small thoughts like that are all washed away when you walk out of the train station he’s waiting outside of, and you shout a familiarly bright, “Shoyo!!!!!” before you come dashing out to attack him with a hug. “Senti sua falta! Tudo bem?” 

 

I missed you! How are you?

 

“Tudo bom! E você?” He replies automatically from his tongue’s muscle memory. 

 

“Tudo bem comigo! It’s been way too long!” 

 

“It has! I’m so glad you’re here, [Name].” His laugh bubbles out of him before he can help it. It’s like a breath of fresh air, seeing you in the flesh again. When he pulls away to get a look at you, everything about you reminds him of the best things about Rio — your skin that naturally soaks up the afternoon sun, your easygoing posture, your effortless style, your warm aura, your bright smile. It’s like he can smell the beach on you. 

 

“Are you hungry?” He asks first. 

 

“Yes! Absolutely famished.” You perk up. “The ride here was only a little over an hour, but something about staying stuck in my seat always makes me hungry.” 

 

“How about we grab dinner first and then we’ll drop off our stuff at my place?” He suggests, “There’s a lot of good restaurants around here that I haven’t even tried yet!” 

 

You agree and soon he and you are walking into the busy streets of the bustling area around the hub of the train station, going off on all kinds of tangents about what’s been going on, how good it is to see each other, the changes you both can see in one another, and reminiscing about how cool Japan and Brazil are. 

 

“By the way,” you put your hand on his arm and look at him with rather serious eyes, “I absolutely love tamagokake gohan now.” 

 

And just like that, whatever inhibitions Hinata may have had about seeing you again have vanished into thin air. The entire evening, it’s nothing but warm laughter and good conversation. He’s reminded constantly of how open and friendly and passionate you are, with every joke you make, every story you tell, every Portuguese word you let slip into a sentence. He’s heard it during your video calls over the year, but your Japanese has gotten really natural and more fluent than before after living here. Though sometimes, in your excitement, you can’t seem to find the right word in time so you switch to the Portuguese or English equivalent. 

 

Your trust in him to completely understand is a small thing, but it’s nice, like it’s finally his turn to have you rely on him. Back in Rio, he had always gotten a lot of language help from you, as well as help doing a lot of other things, but he never felt like he got much of a chance to return the favor. Now that the tables have turned, maybe that can finally change. 

 

After dinner, when he and you make it to his modest apartment, he offers you the bathroom to shower first. “Can I borrow a shirt too?” You ask when he hands you a towel, “I just realized I forgot to bring my pajamas…” 

 

“Oh, sure.” He goes into his room and rummages around for a loose T-shirt and shorts, before he thinks back to what happened the last time he did this. He pauses in thought, wondering how he can find a good opportunity to finally talk about that first night you spent with him. Before he trails off and realizes again that you’re going to be sleeping here with him in his own home for the whole weekend… and that there’s a possibility that what happened before could happen again… And that sends the tips of his ears flaming. 

 

“Sho?” Your voice pulls him out of his unintentionally lewd thoughts and he jumps before seeing you at his door. 

 

“Sorry. Here you go.” He hands you the clothes, “Hope they’ll do.” 

 

“Thanks,” you take them with a grateful smile and disappear into the bathroom. 

 

Hinata takes a deep, meditative breath to clear his mind before he returns to the kitchen to cut up fruit. He’s set up a plate and some drinks — a protein drink for him, a cocktail soda for you — at his short coffee table by the time you step out of the shower. He takes his own quick shower before joining you back in the living area, where you’re munching on a peach slice and texting someone on your phone. 

 

“Did you buy this TV yourself, Sho?” You ask when he joins you on the floor. 

 

“No, it came with the apartment, I don’t really use it since I just stream a lot of things on my tablet anyway. But it’s convenient for live games or watching the news!” 

 

He chats on with you about one topic after another, and before long, the fruit and drinks are finished and you’re scooting closer to him. The flow of conversation feels more intimate as the night goes on, and he can tell your flirting amps up little by little as it becomes late. Yet he can’t seem to ever find the right opening to talk about what he wants to talk about. It doesn’t feel right interrupting you when you begin to open up about some of your more difficult experiences while living here. 

 

“Wow Sho, I really missed you.” You look up at him as you dangle your second can of chuhai from your fingers, where your arms are stretched over your bent knees, “I really love Japan and everything here, but sometimes, I do feel the difference and miss home.” 

 

“What kind of difference?” He inquires. 

 

“Like… I feel like I can be my complete, unapologetic self around you.” You smile at him, and his heart skips a short beat. Just one. “I mean, people here know that I’m a foreigner and try to be understanding of my foreign behaviors, but they’re not always comfortable with it. A lot of the time, I feel like I have to hold back what I want to say or do in order to keep the peace.” 

 

“Hold back? Like with what?” 

 

You hum in thought, “Like sometimes, if I feel a certain way about something with my classmates, or dance team members, or even at work, I’m expected not to say anything that will go against them. Even if I think it would be for the better. I would speak up a lot at the beginning, but I’d often be overlooked or sometimes even indirectly shunned… So since then, I’ve learned to hold my tongue a lot more.” 

 

Hinata reflects back to how open and casual everyone is in Brazil, how it felt like there could be comradery even between strangers. Disagreements could be heated, but they were normal and anyone could share their opinion and voice to offer solutions or ideas of compromise. He supposes that it’d be a rather stark contrast for you, working with people in a culture that could often be more silent and focused on peaceful respect in the community. It’s strange to hear that you feel the need to hold back, since he’s always seen you as a rather bright and outspoken individual, full of great ideas that you weren’t — and shouldn’t be — afraid to share. 

 

“Ah, yeah… Sometimes it can be frustrating, especially compared to Brazil, I’m sure.” Hinata empathizes, “Everyone goes by hierarchy here and sometimes people don’t address everything they should. But I think that could be an advantage you have to change that in the people around you. You’d lead a great example!” 

 

You give him a small smile, “You think so?”

 

“Of course!” 

 

“Thanks. That means a lot, Sho, coming from someone who inspires everyone he plays volleyball with.” You laugh, “Nice told me about how her husband has been taking it much more seriously now. Has your whole team become smitten with you yet?” 

 

“Heitor always gives his best, I’m just glad I got a chance to play with him and get to know him. The same goes for my team. Everyone’s so talented and cool, it makes me wanna be better too.” 

 

You laugh, leaning into his arm as you bring the chuhai up for a sip, “Always so modest, Ninja Shoyo. But you’re being completely honest, and that is exactly why everyone gets inspired by you.” 

 

Hinata chuckles sheepishly but relishes in the old nickname. He was always obsessed with getting a cool alias back in high school, but after the ninja thing started catching on, he almost didn’t care. Still, being praised was never a bad feeling, and his heart beams when you compliment him all the same. 

 

Conversation continues between him and you for a while longer, but when you pop out a yawn, he realizes the time. 

 

“Oh, maybe we should get to sleep soon. I’ve still got practice tomorrow.” He glances at the time on his phone, “Did you still want to come in and watch? It’ll be a bit early, but we end around lunch.” 

 

“I’ll go! When does just anyone get a chance to see a D-1 V-league team practice?” You say immediately. “Be sure to wake me, even if I ask you for five more minutes.” You laugh.

 

“I’ll be sure to.” He chuckles back. 

 

He’s about to offer to set up a second futon for himself while you take his bed, but you’re already leading him by the hand to his room after you both brush your teeth. You turn off the light yourself and climb into his bed before pulling him in with you with a giggle. Next thing he knows, you’re cuddling up against his side with your arm around his stomach and your throat vibrating against his shoulder, “I’m so happy to see you again, Shoyo.” 

 

“M-Me, too.” He has to clear his throat. 

 

And you seal away the last opportunity for him to bring up that hard conversation for the evening when you lean up to kiss him goodnight. 



*



He slept really well. He doesn’t know what it is about having your warm body pressed against his, or your heartbeat thrumming a melodic lullaby that carried him to sleep, but he woke up feeling incredibly refreshed. Despite how you told him not to listen to your groans of five more minutes, he lets you sleep just a while longer while he gets ready himself and takes some time to meditate. 

 

Later, as he’s preparing breakfast, he thinks back to what you had said last night about people who avoided confrontation in fear of stirring up the peace. Is that what he was doing too? Instead of sitting you down and forcing himself to have an awkward situation, he just lets you run your course; sleeping in his bed, hugging him close, kissing him goodnight… Not to say that he doesn’t enjoy it, but you still leave him incredibly confused. What he’s used to in Japan and what he’s learned from Brazil make it hard for him to decide how to approach you! 

 

You’d probably understand either, having lived in both settings yourself. But how you approached him from the beginning feels far from traditional, in terms of what he’s learned to expect of relationships at least. He never dug too deep into people’s relationships back in Brazil, so he doesn’t even know how normal any of this is for you! Ugh… he should’ve asked Heitor more when he had the chance… Would he think it weird if Hinata called all of the sudden to ask about girl advice? 

 

“Need any help?” You appear behind him and look over his shoulder at the salmon he’s grilling. 

 

“Oh! Uh!” He shouts a little loudly in his surprise, “No, it’s okay. I uh— I hope you don’t mind Japanese breakfast.”

 

“Not at all!” You smile, “Do you happen to have coffee?” 

 

“No… I don’t drink it. Sorry.” He apologizes. Now that he thinks about it, he could’ve brought some coffee back for you as a gift. 

 

“Nah, I figured, since you’re such a dedicated athlete and all that. Just thought I’d ask.” You shrug. 

 

“You can make a smoothie if you want though!” He offers an alternative, “I have a lot of fruit.” 

 

“Ooh!” You rummage through the fridge and talk to him about how you miss some of the more tropically-grown fruits that aren’t as easily available here in Japan. “I miss açaí sooooo much.” You sigh as you cut up the bananas directly over the blender. 

 

“That’s right, I remember that was your favorite snack.” Hinata laughs, flashing back to the number of times you would stop by a street vendor for a bowl of the berry sorbet. 

 

“What was your favorite snack then, Sho?” You ask as you add ice cubes. 

 

“Hmm…” Hinata takes his eyes off the fish for a moment to think. He often tried not to deviate too much from his healthy diet, but there were plenty of times he’d try a new food or snack at someone’s suggestion or even out of his own curiosity. If he had to choose… “Maybe coxinha?” 

 

“Ooh, good choice! I miss eating those little things too. Sometimes I try making them myself, but they don’t turn out as good.” You laugh before you turn on the blender. 

 

Conversation flows easily with you, as it always does, yet somehow it doesn’t make this any easier for him… In the end, he didn’t trail back because you are just so good at distracting him with a brand new topic every few minutes. It’s not until he has to introduce you to his teammates at the MSBY private gymnasium that he realizes he doesn’t know what to call you. So he settles for something along the lines of, “this is the person I met in Rio that I was telling you guys about.” You didn’t seem bothered by the introduction and you greeted all his present teammates cheerfully and told them all a little bit about yourself when prompted. 

 

Naturally, you strike up easy conversation with just about everyone because of your interesting background, talking to everyone in Japanese or English and getting complimented on your linguistic abilities. Even his coach takes the time to chat with you! However, despite seemingly innocent and friendly interactions, some of his teammates are already interrogating him about his relationship with you once you disappear to watch from up in the stands.

 

“Shoyo-kun,” Atsumu puts a hand on his shoulder and looks at him with a deceivingly patient expression, “You can’t mean to tell us this cool, smart, and very pretty chick came all the way here to see ya and you’re just good friends. ” 

 

“Hinata, good for you! If you weren’t going out before, you should now! She’s so cute! And interesting!” Bokuto exclaims in his usual volume which suddenly sounds far too loud. 

 

“Yeah, she’s cute. So that’s your girlfriend?” Thomas asks, seeming only to have caught on to a few select Japanese words from his other teammates. 

 

“No, no. I—” He looks up to see you looking around for a good seat to watch practice from, before you catch his eye and wave quickly with a smile. He waves back instinctually. “I don’t know…” 

 

Coach Foster rounds everyone up to say a few words before sending everyone off to practice for the morning soon after, so he’s free to refocus all his energy on volleyball for now. Though every time he makes a good shot during spiking drills, he hears an adorable little whoop come from you up in the stands, and he can’t help but smile and rub at the back of his head. 

 

Practice goes as smooth as it’s ever been going since he joined this team. There’s still a lot of experimenting and adapting going on now that he has something new to offer to the team’s play style, so naturally there are plenty of hiccups. But whenever he or someone else pulls off a particularly spectacular play that they’ve been working on for a while, your cheering brightens up the whole gym as you shout praises in all the languages you know. 

 

Hinata’s teammates laugh and occasionally glance up at you before glancing back over to him, as if to send him a silent message of, “she’s cute, for sure.” Some of them have even taken enough of a liking to you to invite you along for lunch when practice ends. 

 

You happily agree, so Hinata is stuck with more teasing comments from the guys when they all head into the locker room to shower and change. He really doesn’t know what to tell them, but he definitely doesn’t want to fan the flames by revealing that he had sex with you once before… or even that you kissed him last night. 

 

It’s hard to stop the teasing though, especially when you’re just naturally so charming and cute on your own. You meet them outside of the gym after walking back from the MSBY merchandise shop next door and show off your new hoodie with the team logo on the back. “They don’t have a Hinata jersey yet, though! What a crime!” 

 

“You wanna get my jersey?” Hinata beams at the thought of you cheering in the stands with his name and number on you. You’d be his first official fan! 

 

“Of course! Who else’s jersey would I get?” You laugh, leaving Bokuto an opportunity to jump in about how his jersey happens to be a popular item both in-store and online, and comes in many sizes! 

 

“You know, maybe I should invest in one. You do seem to be a fan favorite, Bokuto-san.” You laugh along. 

 

“How do you know that? Do you watch volleyball, [Name]-chan?” Atsumu asks with his uncharacteristically sweet smile that he usually uses with people he just meets. 

 

“I’ve watched a few MSBY games from last season! Just to get to know what kind of team Sho was gonna join.” You say, surprising him. Hinata didn’t know you did that. “You guys are really good! Especially you, Sakusa-san!” you turn back to shout to the outside hitter, who’s a good several paces behind everyone else. 

 

“Oh, really.” He responds out of politeness, while his other teammates break out in protest about ‘what’s so special about him anyway??’ 

 

It’s strange to see his worlds colliding like this; it feels similar to how he felt when he ran into Oikawa in Rio almost two years ago. Seeing someone he knew from a completely different setting appearing in a completely unexpected part of his life, it gives him both a sense of nostalgia and eagerness to see just how much the world is connected. 

 

You sit beside him at the table when they get to the restaurant and don’t make any particularly flirty interactions with him in front of his team, which makes Hinata feel both relieved and curious. Surely he hasn’t been imagining your advances on him? You had kissed him last night after all. But maybe you were just trying to be polite in front of the others, or possibly even trying to keep the more intimate side of your relationship with him secret? 

 

He really doesn’t know, and that’s more than enough reason for him to just bite the bullet and ask you. But for the time being, it’s something less for him to worry about, so he can enjoy his time with his team and you for the hour you’re all together. In fact, he ends up learning some new things about his own teammates that he didn’t know before, thanks to your incredible ability to converse with others. 

 

And in turn, of course his teammates ask their own prying questions that make Hinata a little nervous. “Have you had a boyfriend before, [Name]-chan?” Atsumu asks. 

 

“Sure, I have. But they weren’t so serious.” You answer rather easily, “We were just kids then, and I didn’t really know what was important to me yet.” 

 

“Hmm… So what is important to you now?” The setter interrogates further, a curious gleam in his eyes that makes Hinata sweat a bit. 

 

“Mmm… Well,” you make but a quick glance over to Hinata before reverting to a more vague gaze around the table, “Right now, I think it’s important to be comfortable. With both myself and who I’m with. That goes for friends too. I don’t really enjoy having to hold back who I am or what I want to say.” 

 

“I feel that!” Bokuto holds his fist up, which you bump easily. “I totally hate not gettin’ to do what I wanna do… It sucks.” 

 

“And now?” Atsumu ignores Bokuto’s comment and keeps the attention focused on you and your love life. “Have you dated someone while in Japan?” 

 

“I have been on a few dates,” you nod, “but they never went far. I’ve been focused on settling in, after all.” 

 

“Oh? And what about—” 

 

“How about I get to ask a question this time, Miya-san?” You interrupt with your own teasing smile, “I saw you laughing it up on your phone call outside earlier. Who’s got all the jokes?” 

 

“Oh! That’s true, Tsum Tsum has definitely been on the phone longer these days during breaks!” Bokuto comments. 

 

“Oh yeah!” Hinata recalls. Atsumu has been rather energetic during his phone calls away from the team during practice breaks. 

 

“It’s that girl he met at his brother’s restaurant,” Sakusa reveals without looking up from his bite of rice, “He’s always laughing at some dumb memes she shares.” 

 

“Shut up, Omi-omi!” Atsumu snaps, “That ain’t none’ah yer business!” 

 

“Oh! So it is her!” Bokuto guesses. 

 

“Ooh, sounds like you’ve got something interesting going on here,” you titter, “Do tell. Do you have a picture?” 

 

With Atsumu now on the ropes after having his interrogation backfire, Hinata can’t help but laugh at how easily you turned the tables on him. You really are a master at conversation, and it already feels like you’re rather close to the team after just one meeting. It extends the afternoon they all spend together before Hinata and you separate from the rest. 

 

He spends the rest of the day going around the city with you, and you end the evening at an izakaya near his apartment complex with a few drinks. Hinata sticks to a hot tea, but you are impressively capable of holding your own against a few flasks of sake. Though when your languages start to blur together and your volume gets a little too high, he figures it’s probably time to ask for the check. 

 

The walk back to his place isn’t too difficult, and you’re just as enjoyable to be around when you’re drunk as when you’re sober. You are a little more touchy, since you cling to his arm the entire time he walks you back, but that might be due to your slightly inhibited balance. 

 

After your shower though, you seem to be just fine. He offers you water, extra snacks, anything you might need, but you insist that you’re fine now. “I mean it, Sho, I’m good now. You can take a shower without having to worry about me falling asleep and drowning in my own puke.” You joke. 

 

“Okay then.” He takes your word for it, but as he washes off for the evening, he wonders if now would be the right time to finally talk to you about what’s been eating at him for almost a year now. He reflects back on everything that happened that day, from the dancing, to the rain, to his room, to his bed… And he tries to compare it to your behavior since he’s reunited with you. 

 

That night in Rio, the biggest difference he felt between the two of you was the tension in the evening. Looking back at it now, it was definitely a date that you had invited him on. It wasn’t even over before you had kissed him for the first time. And the atmosphere had escalated so high between the both of you that he was just constantly stuck in each new moment, and before he knew it, another one was happening. 

 

So far, other than your cuddling up to him last night, his friendship with you has been reminiscent of how it was before all of that extra stuff happened. He talks, laughs, and eats comfortably with you through all the motions of the day, and there are small instances where he notices how pretty you look doing something, but it hasn’t gone much farther than that. 

 

Maybe it isn’t meant to be. Your answers to all of Atsumu’s demanding questions today didn’t reveal much, and you had even said you’ve been on dates since then! So maybe you didn’t have much intention or direction for how you wanted to be with him, or in a relationship in general. You had said the most important thing for you was being comfortable, and Hinata has heard that people get into all kinds of forms of relationships without being fully committed to them. Would it be strange of him to bring up the question? 

 

He could dwell on this all night, but he really should get out of the bath before he starts to shrivel like a raisin. When he dries off and returns to the living area in his pajamas, you’re sitting there on the floor pillow, watching a movie playing on TV. 

 

“What are you watching?” He joins you on the floor, reaching for the glass of water you brought for him on the coffee table. 

 

“I think it’s a murder mystery.” You give him a brief explanation of what’s happened so far since you started watching. He watches on with you, but both his and your attention don’t seem to focus on the film for long as you begin talking again. It started off as just making comments over what was happening on screen, but soon the movie is entirely forgotten as he delves into a completely new topic with you. 

 

You only stop the current conversation when you notice, “Oh! Look! They’re in Brazil! That’s São Paulo!” 

 

“Oh! It really is!” He begins to recognize the words displayed on all the signs labelling the metropolis that was only a few cities away from Rio. He got a chance to visit once for one of the volleyball competitions with Kato’s team, and it truly was a sight to behold. Just as impressive as Rio de Janeiro yet totally different. 

 

You let out a nostalgic sigh as you sink lower to the floor and rest your head on Hinata’s shoulder. “You know, I never really liked the big city. But seeing this now kind of makes me appreciate it more.” 

 

“Do you miss home a lot?” He asks, glancing down to see your thoughtful gaze on the screen as the characters run through the Brazilian city. 

 

“I do, and I don’t.” You say after a moment. “There are many things I miss, but there are also things that I’m glad I left behind.” 

 

“I see.” 

 

“It’s hard sometimes, but overall, I never regretted coming here.” You shift your head to rest your chin on his shoulder, bringing your face impossibly close to his when you look at him now, “Did you ever regret anything about Rio, Shoyo?” 

 

He bites the inside of his lip in thought. Overall, no, he never regrets going to Rio or anything that happened while he was there. The closest thing resembling regret that happened would have been that he missed the chance to talk to you about that night properly before he let it stretch and fade out to what it is now. But it shouldn’t be, because he has the chance to do it now. So why hasn’t he yet? 

 

“No, never.” It comes out lower than he expected, almost a whisper. 

 

“Yeah, you don’t seem the type to.” You murmur back before leaning in just the slightest to press your lips to his. 

 

They’re so soft, just as he remembered. You smell nice, even though you’ve been using his soap. It still smells like you somehow. When you pull back just the slightest, you adjust your sitting position so you can angle your kiss just a bit deeper. 

 

Gosh, it’s happening again, Hinata thinks. He knows it’s happening and he has a fair idea of how this will build, but he can’t bring himself to stop it. Not when your body just fits against his so perfectly. 

 

He kisses you back, tries to bring back everything you once taught him about how to kiss properly, and your mouth slots against his to match his rhythm. And for once, the two of you are quiet, the only noise in the apartment coming from the TV and your lips that occasionally separate with a light puckering sound. 

 

Time seems to run at a different pace when he’s kissing you. He can’t tell if it’s slowing down or speeding by, and he forgets completely about his usually scheduled routines. You’ve somehow convinced him that this moment happening between you is more important, and he shouldn’t lose focus on it. He never does, but the intensity shifts when you move to bring your leg around his waist so you’re seated on his lap. 

 

He gasps when you put your hands on his neck, sliding your fingers up sensitive parts of his neck en route to bury in his hair. You swallow his breaths patiently, but eagerly, smiling slightly against him. With your hold, you pull his head back gently to expose his neck to your lips, and he shivers as you trail down slower than honey. And when you pepper your way back up to the other side of his jaw, you whisper to him, “You can touch me, Shoyo.” 

 

It’s only when you say that that he realizes his hands are balled up against the floor, and he can only puff out a dumb, “oh,” before resting them on your thighs that cage his hips. They’re soft, even through the thin layer of his shorts that you’re wearing. As you kiss him elsewhere, his hands trail up, itching to feel more, to squeeze. 

 

And he almost lets it all get to him just the same as the first time, until you roll your hips against his and send a jolt of pleasure through his body, so shocking that he has to gasp and pull away from your lips. “[Name], wait!” He says, gripping at your hips to hold them still. You stop. 

 

But even though your hips have paused, your lips show no sign of doing the same as they continue along his jawline up to his ear. “Mhm?” 

 

“Wait, wait.” He gasps again, this time pushing you back by the shoulders, “Sorry, I just— wait.” 

 

“Sho, are you okay?” Your tone is still low and hypnotizing, but there’s concern in your eyes, “Do you not want this?” 

 

“N-No! That’s not it at all! I— I’m just… confused. Ever since that last night in Rio.” He finally admits. Now he just needs to get out the rest. “W-Why did you do it?” 

 

You give him a familiarly patient smile as you begin to rub his shoulders in soothing circles, “Didn’t I make it obvious last time? It’s because I like you, Shoyo.” 

 

Well, that is true. You did mention that somewhere in the heat of it all last time. Somehow that had slipped his mind as he continued to worry about all the formalities about his relationship with you. But maybe it was that simple, you’re doing this because you like him. Maybe you don’t need to know about the rest. 

 

“Do you not like me back?” You ask. 

 

“No! Of course not! I mean— No, wait. What I mean is, of course I like you.” The last thing he wants you to think is that he doesn’t like you and that he’s doing this because he feels obligated or forced to. Or that he’s using you. 

 

“Because if you don’t, you can tell me. You should tell me.” You say calmly, pausing your moving hands on his shoulders. They’re so warm, so comforting, and very familiar. And they feel even more intimate when you bring a thumb up to brush his cheek. “I would never do anything you don’t want me to.” 

 

“No, I do like you, really.” He insists, “it’s just that, I never really thought about it… this way. I— I’ve never done this with anyone else.” 

 

“Yeah, I figured.” You smile, a bit teasing but still understanding, “Do you still want to?” 

 

“I— I… if you’re okay with me…” he finishes rather lamely. Because if he’s nakedly honest, he did enjoy having sex with you. He’s sure he’ll enjoy it again. You’ve only ever treated him well and he feels bad for being so wishy-washy about all of this. But one thing reigns true; you make him want you. He does want you. And he wants to please you in all the ways you’ve done for him. But he’s still a fledgling to all of this compared to you, and he knows you deserve so much. Could he even give you a fraction of that? “There’s a lot that I lack…” 

 

You smile in a way that feels decisive, definitive, and he feels reassured when you hold his face up for a kiss, “I know you’re a quick study.” 

 

All in all, he still never got a completely transparent answer from you, but he can’t say that he didn’t learn a lot from you that night. And the next morning. You took your time to teach him as much as you could cram in for the remainder of the weekend. He definitely got less sleep than usual, but he would argue that it was worth it. 

 

After all, he learned how to touch you, where to kiss you, how to kiss you, how to move inside you, different positions he could be inside you — so many different positions — and how pretty you look when you come. He’s proud to say he actually found a couple of sensitive spots on your body on his own that he’ll keep for his own reference. Even more proud to say that he made you come several times; it’s a favor he’s been waiting for almost a year to return. 

 

It all stays private and quiet like a little secret within the walls of his apartment. You act completely normal and friendly outside around others, though you do hold his hand when he’s walking you to the station to catch your train back to Kyoto. And you leave him with a sweet kiss that could’ve been straight out of a movie, “See you soon, Sho.” 

 

“See you.” He smiles back and lets the grip between your hands linger and stretch until you have to let go and it falls back to his side. He watches you go, staring after your form and feeling more confused than he was before. 




*




His teammates take plenty of opportunities to try to dig out more information about you, but he’s careful not to reveal too much. Still, it can be hard to hide when you visit him somewhat regularly for the next few months. It’s only about once a month that you make your way out to Black Jackals territory, but it’s enough to make you a regular face among the team after the first three months. 

 

It’s only during select weekends when you’re not too busy, and you don’t always show up to his Saturday morning practices, sometimes choosing to stay in his apartment or go to a cafe to work on homework you may have. There was one time you couldn’t make it but you said you missed him, so he decided to make his way up to Kyoto for a change. He had the pleasure of meeting a lot of your friends and even getting to sit in on one of your dance practices. 

 

Seeing you get along with everyone around you, Hinata is surprised to hear that you still have struggles with a few cultural things sometimes. But he’s more than happy to provide the moral support you need. Of course, he means that in an emotional way, but you take just as much comfort through physical means too. 

 

Being your friend was always effortless, fun, easygoing, but being your sexual partner proves to be more demanding. It’s like when he started playing volleyball; he’d make a lot of mistakes, feel embarrassed, try again and again until he got it right and got better. And though turning you on and making you come is worlds different from tossing, receiving, or spiking a volleyball, he finds that it gives him a similar satisfaction — it’s just that orgasms rattle his body a little more palpably... 

 

The night he stayed in Kyoto, he rented out a room in a rather fancy love hotel, since he obviously couldn’t stay with you in your dorm. You had stayed the night with him, and convinced him to try out all the strange services they offered. So he spent almost the entire night with you ordering different costumes to roleplay, feeding each other snacks, jumping around the room (there was actually a trampoline!), cuddling, and learning he could have sex on pretty much any surface — and that you would like it. 

 

A lot of the activities ended up in more laughs than anything super sexual, but that was probably Hinata’s favorite part of it all. His favorite part of being with you in general is that he can pretty much have it all — a good friend he can share everything with, someone who can relate to a lot of his life experiences across the globe, and a teacher who pushes limits that he didn’t even know he had. Honestly, if you were just a tad obsessed with volleyball like he was, he’d probably just up and marry you.

 

Which is a strange and kind of scary thought to have. He’s come to accept the idea that any official labels between him and you could be left up in the air indefinitely, but he’s realized that he really does like you. Quite a lot, actually. He thinks about you throughout the week when his mind isn’t zeroed in on volleyball, and he’s always happy to receive a new message or photo from you. 

 

When his birthday rolls around, he’s planning to just have a simple dinner and karaoke session with his team and a few other friends who’ll be in the area. And he didn’t want to assume, but he was still hoping you could make it too. Unfortunately, you said you were overloaded with projects and work that weekend, so you wouldn’t be able to make it, but you promised you’d try for next weekend to celebrate it belatedly with him. 

 

The entire day is still full of fun and joy as he goes through regular Saturday practice, then is surprised with a picnic in the park by his out of town friends, then is taken to a private room in a restaurant filled with all his friends and teammates and served some incredible food. He’s thankful for everything that was already given to him, so he tries not to feel like there’s something missing. Not everyone gets to have all of this done for them. 

 

He doesn’t think that it could get much better until you walk through the door wearing that

 

Hinata has seen you in many states of dress and undress; in wetsuits, swimsuits, street clothes, underwear, date clothes, his clothes, sexy costumes, straight-up naked… Yet somehow, you still manage to take him by surprise in the simplest ways — this time, with his name and number on the MSBY jersey framing your body. Paired with some tiny shorts and knee-length socks on… He never knew such a simple combination could be so lethal. 

 

“Somebody order a birthday cake?” You ask brightly, holding the large, frosted cake up in one arm as you light the two 2-shaped candles stuck on top with the lighter in your other hand. 

 

He’s quite thankful that everyone starts singing ‘Happy Birthday’ to him, because it gives him some ample time to stare at you as you approach the table. It’s almost ethereal, seeing you here, adorned in his jersey, carrying a cake effortlessly to him, and looking… quite gorgeous. There can’t possibly be another word for it. 

 

He blows out the candles and wraps you in a hug when you put the cake down. Your presence feels like the greatest birthday gift he could receive, and you laugh as you say, “Silly Sho. Of course I wouldn’t miss it!” 

 

His smile never leaves his face for the rest of the night, not even when it’s smashed in by a plate of cake. The party migrates over to Bokuto’s apartment, which is the largest among the group and apparently had been decorated ahead of time for the celebration! And once you start frying up the coxinha you had premade and left in the fridge, Hinata finds out you had been in on the entire thing! 

 

“Wait, so did you already get here last night?” He asks as he bites into the tiny Brazilian croquette snack, “Oh, yum!” 

 

“Yeah, I spent the night here in Bokuto-san’s apartment to help prepare everything.” You say, sitting next to him on the couch. 

 

You what? Hinata pauses mid-chew hearing that you spent the night in another man’s house. His own teammate’s, as a matter of fact. He doubts that Bokuto would do anything to you, but the entirely possible fact that you could easily be sleeping in another guy’s home — or maybe even another guy’s bed?? — had gone completely over his head this whole time. And he obviously can’t stop you if you were or you wanted to… But did you want to??? 

 

“I’m glad you have a team that really cares for you, Sho.” You lean into his arm, slipping your hand into his between his and your legs. It warms him both inside and out, and he remembers that with you, he doesn’t really need to worry about things like that. It’s just a feeling, a silent trust he has with you, and just another thing that he’s very grateful for. 

 

Still, that night, he fucks you from behind more than usual, just because his name looks much better when it’s displayed across your back. 



*



The start of the season is coming up and Hinata is busier than ever. He’s been going all out in practice and maintaining his body and mind with religious effort. The team has really been coming together in these last few months, and it finally feels like they’re going to be able to pull off all these wild plays in a real game — he really does have some incredible teammates. And to kick it all off, their first opponents of the season are going to be against the Schweiden Adlers. 

 

When Coach Foster tells him that he’s going to be playing in the game, he can’t stop his body from thrumming in excitement. Finally, he’s going to get his chance to show up his oldest rival, the old King of the Court. 

 

He tells you all about his origin story and all the antics he got into with Kageyama through high school on a long call one night. You lament about how you won’t be able to watch his debut game in person because it’ll be all the way up in Sendai. He understands completely but he is a little sad that you won’t be able to see how great he’s going to be in the flesh. It feels like he has less time with you these days. 

 

You’ve been getting busier with your dance team since you became a group leader, despite only being a second year. So when you started taking up more responsibilities in your second semester, you had less time during the weekends to come down and visit him. 

 

Hinata has no problem making the effort to come up to see you instead though. It’d be a shame to miss out on seeing each other and break the monthly visit routine. He used to bike up a mountain every day for three years just to go to Karasuno, it really is no trouble taking the hour train ride over to Kyoto every other month. 

 

But even so, he’s working his butt off for the start of the season and you’re getting busy searching for internships to work next year on top of your schoolwork, dance activities, and part-time job. Since there isn’t as much time for him and you to exchange daily messages and calls, the time he gets to spend with you in person feels more precious. 

 

You still manage to keep up with volleyball — mostly for his team — in your spare time, and sometimes when you’re over at his place, he puts on some games to watch with you and introduce to you all the formidable players on all the different teams in the league. Or he pulls up one of Heitor’s or his other friend’s beach games in Rio, which is more familiar to you. 

 

And in turn, you sometimes show him some dance videos from your team, occasionally doing a live performance alongside the video for him to awe and clap for. Your team seems to span a lot of genres, but the particular group that you lead — and now help choreograph for — is more focused on jazz. “It leaves a little more room for me to incorporate different Latin dances sometimes!” you had explained. 

 

Hinata knows that you have showcases or performances for different events at your school sometimes, but he still has yet to be able to make it to one because practice has extended to every day of the week now. You insist that it’s not a big deal, and he really does have no time to spare due to the upcoming season, but he does feel guilty for not coming out to support you as much as you do for him. It doesn’t feel right. 

 

“Okay, well! We’re actually preparing for a big, national dance competition. We made it past the first preliminaries, and I think with our current team that we could be well on our way to the final showcase! Which is on TV and everything!” You say during one of the last weekends you can make it down to the city before the V-league season starts. 

 

“Really?! [Name], that’s so awesome!” Hinata gushes, “When’s it gonna be?” 

 

“Well, we don’t even know if we’re going to make it all the way up there yet!” You laugh, “But if we can keep doing well and make it to that last big performance, it’ll probably be some time in April.” 

 

The official season would be over by then, including all of the publicity events and other formalities the team may have to participate in. 

 

“You’re gonna do amazing! I know it. You’ll definitely get to the final competition.” He tells you, squeezing your hand in his to show you how much he means it, “And I’ll definitely be there to see it for myself.” 

 

“You will?” You laugh. 

 

“No matter what! I promise I’ll come to see your greatest performance ever.” 

 

This time when he says it, your eyes get a little hazy and you stare at him thoughtfully for a moment. But then you squeeze his hand back, “Well, if you’re gonna go that far, then I guess I have to win it.” 

 

You lean in for a kiss and he hugs you closer to him. The positive energy practically buzzes between the two of you. “And you better show up everyone at your first game, Sho.” 

 

“I will.” He promises. 




*




Everything about Hinata’s first official game was memorable, yet full of nostalgia. Simply stepping onto the same court where he won all his high school prefectural tournaments gave him a great blast from the past. He had only visited this place for old times’ sake just a few months ago when he landed back in Japan, but being here as an athlete really set a new tone. 

 

And then he started running into old rivals from his past one after another, and even though they hadn’t talked in person for the longest time, it felt like nothing had changed between them. It was clear that everyone was constantly updated on each other’s stats and progress in their careers, so that might’ve narrowed the gap of their social distance overtime. He didn’t know if Kageyama would actually make a swing at him upon first meeting after all this time, but his body had still prepared to dodge him anyway. 

 

Once he stepped onto the court, he could hear a few familiar voices in the crowd too. From old senpai and many friends from so many circles. And the game itself was everything he dreamed it to be — fun, satisfying, invigorating, challenging. He got to show off so many of his new skills and help nab points for his team as a distinctive force to be reckoned with. And he got a pretty good reaction from the crowd too. 

 

It felt like everything was finally accumulating into what he wanted it to be. After all these years of struggle, diligence, physical and mental training, education, building relationships, and honing his love for this sport, he can finally prove to the world that he can fly despite the circumstances and expectations. He built and created the footing he needed to meet all these other monsters at eye level on this court, and now he gets to play with them with all his might. 

 

It was a cathartic experience, but at the same time, it just stirred his hunger even more. To think that it would all connect like this. And now that it has, all he can think about is playing another game. This is what he’s been working for, aspiring for, and he wants to keep it up for as long as he can. 

 

“Shoyo!!!” You scream through the phone later that evening when he’s out at dinner with the other Black Jackals. “That was freaking amazing! I cannot! Believe! You did all that!!!” 

 

He laughs and takes the call outside, where it’s chillier but he can hear you better away from the ruckus of the restaurant. You tell him about how you had been at a restaurant bar with your friends watching from one of the TVs and how you think you had been bothering everyone with all your squealing, but you didn’t care!! And that you were going to rewatch it all week and put together a compilation video of all his game highlights and— 

 

“Thank you, [Name]!” He laughs, feeling giddy at your contagious excitement. “I had a ton of fun. I’m so happy you watched it.” 

 

“We’ll see how happy you are when I come to an actual game next time and outscream the rest of the crowd.” You joke. 

 

He’d be happy no matter what if you came to a game in person, so he accepts your challenge. Though when the time comes and you’re up in the stands of the big stadium, he guesses he didn’t count on the effect you’d have on him again while wearing his jersey number. You’re the only one wearing it in the crowd during the Jackals’ first home game in their local city, though he has gained a few fans online, it seems. 

 

Still, even though no one else is wearing his number, no one else matches your energy either. You prove to be a vocal fan as you shout at almost every play, and cheer him on even better than some of the MSBY cheerleaders do! It’s no question that you’d get a few curious looks for that alone, but the few times you also shout out in Portuguese or English gets some attention too — and makes it much easier for Hinata to spot your voice during the game. 

 

A few of his teammates laugh and tease at him about how he’s probably going to get a big after-game kiss later. He kind of expects as much by the end of the game — just some sort of grand gesture, knowing you, like maybe leaping into his arms for a hug or something — when all the players are greeting fans. But instead, you’re walking with a young boy and giving him what seems to be small words of encouragement as you lead him closer to the court. 

 

You wave to him with a big smile, “Shoyo! I just met a new fan of yours, and he said he wanted to meet you. Can we get an autograph?” 

 

“Me?” He lights up in humbled awe, “Of course! What’s your name?” 

 

The boy introduces himself and says he likes to play volleyball, and that he’s never seen many players as small but fast as him — which Hinata habitually gets a little irked by, but takes the compliment anyway. “You’re so cool, Hinata-san!!” 

 

No matter how many times he’s told that by someone, or given a nice compliment, he can’t help but feel the pride swelling in his heart. He doesn’t play volleyball to get praised like this, but if he can provide some sort of inspiration for anyone through his play style, then it just might be his favorite byproduct of all his hard work. 

 

Hinata signs a volleyball for the boy and hands it to him, wishing him the best of luck in the future. It’s endearing to see the kid’s eyes light up as he accepts it and thanks him. “And your girlfriend is very nice, Hinata-san!” He smiles before walking off, leaving Hinata to flubber with his words in his inability to respond. 

 

You hadn’t heard that since you were off to the side talking to the boy’s mother, but Hinata wonders what you’d have said if you did. After waving the mother and son goodbye, you walk back up to him with a proud smile on your face, “Well, look at you, Hinata-san. You’re getting big!” 

 

“It was just one kid,” Hinata shrugs, “but that did feel good. Thank you.” 

 

“It’s going to be a ton of kids soon enough, just you watch.” You cross your arms confidently, “Soon all of Japan will know the prowess of Ninja Shoyo. ” 

 

He laughs with you and brings you into a hug, “Obrigado. Thanks for coming out to watch. I felt your energy through the whole game!” 

 

“I can’t help it! You’re just so freaking good!!” You shout, “Your volleyball really is just so fun to watch, Sho. I can’t wait to watch more.” 

 

Your words and your bright, genuine smile make his heart bloom. He kind of wants to pull you in for a kiss, but he’s never done that in front of so many others before. He doesn’t know if you’d like it or even be okay with it, but the desire is there. Palpable and obvious. 

 

It sucks that he can’t show you all of that because you have to catch the train back to school tonight, but he hurries into the changing room and takes care of all his things so he can take you to the station at least. He leaves before everyone else and tells them he’ll meet them at the restaurant later for dinner, then races out to meet you outside of the stadium. 

 

You hold his hand for the duration of the cab ride as you go on with him about the different plays of the game, and he shares with you all the little details that happened on-court between the players and opponents that were memorable to him. You awe at all the miniscule things that go on in the split seconds he talks about, and he can’t stop smiling at your cute expressions and reactions. 

 

When he’s outside of the station with you, he finds it hard to let go. He can’t help but want to celebrate this win with you for the rest of the night. It’s a shame that he can’t talk with you more about everything and properly show you how much he truly appreciates your presence in today’s game, but he’s grateful that you made your way out at all. 

 

You leave him with a usual sweet kiss goodbye before disappearing into the station, and this time, Hinata feels a little more saddened at the sight of your back. Is it weird that he kind of misses you already? 

 

He stands there for a few minutes, staring blankly at the entrance of the station, before sighing deeply and returning to the streets to hail another cab. 




*




The rest of the season continues on in a flourishing wave of learning for Hinata. As he plays against more and more different opponents, adjusts to new play styles, experiences new skills from old faces, and scores points left and right with and for his team, there’s all kinds of information that he takes in and reflects on for future study and practice. There is no end to just how amazing all of these pros are. 

 

What’s fantastic about playing with all these other D-1 teams is that there are still chances to play even after a loss. The season allows every team a fair chance to play against all their different opponents more than once, and even though victory is the overall goal, Hinata is simply happy to still be able to play as much as possible. 

 

That’s not to say he’s put in every game in his first season. A lot of the time he’s put on the bench and subbed in when another teammate needs a switch. Sometimes he’s there for one or two sets and out for the others. Sometimes he doesn’t even touch the ball during a game simply because the coach thinks it best to use a certain lineup to play against a certain team. But it’s all a good learning experience for him. 

 

There are some things he can see from the sidelines that his teammates can’t see on the court, and he still plays a part in helping communicate possible strategies to counteract a difficult situation. And even when not on the court, his role practicing with his team is just as important to keep everyone on their toes and ready for anything. To be able to play volleyball all the time, and taken seriously as a player at that, is all he could have ever wanted. He’s so glad to finally be here. 

 

However, he learns that there are parts to the job outside of just playing volleyball. Some formal parts to it; like being required to wear sponsored gear and consume sponsored drinks during certain media appearances, attending community events for outreach and publicity, participating in big projects or advertisements with the team, and a lot of meetings and ceremonies. Hinata is still new to the V-league, so he isn’t the main face of the Black Jackals, but he still participates in a lot of events and things with the others. 

 

And after the end of the regular season, there’s a big celebration ceremony for the team and all their friends and family to join in on. It’s just a big party, according to all his senpai, but people are still expected to dress somewhat formally. “You should bring a date, Shoyo-kun.” Atsumu teases with a knowing smile. 

 

“Oh, are you going to bring one too, Atsumu-san?” Hinata asks, inquiring about the same girl that he’s been talking to since last year. 

 

Atsumu makes a small choking sound at the question and mumbles some sort of inaudible comment while Bokuto laughs and claps the setter on the back, “It’s okay, Tsum Tsum! I’m sure she’ll come if you just ask. Just be a man about it!” 

 

“Shut yer trap.” 

 

“But yeah, you should invite [Name]-chan, Hinata!” Bokuto ignores Atsumu’s clear discontent, “Everyone usually brings at least a plus one, even if their family can’t make it.” 

 

“I see.” Hinata thinks, wondering what it’ll be like walking around with you on his arm at a team event, introducing you to everyone. There’s no doubt in his mind that he’d bring you. Even if his teammates hadn’t brought it up, you were already one of the first people he’d think to invite along. He knows that everyone would get a certain idea of him and you in their heads, but he could never dream of not inviting you. 

 

So he does, and you’re ecstatic about the fact that you’ll get to dress up for an event. You tell him that you’re going to go shopping the very next day and he can’t help but get a little excited with you. 

 

One thing, however, that he forgot to take into account, was that you would be meeting his family, which suddenly made things feel a lot more complicated. He doesn’t know how that entire thought flew over his head, but somehow, it’s not until the night of the party that he realizes it. 

 

You would be staying at his apartment as usual, but he had to pick up his mom and Natsu to escort them to the party. Luckily, they were staying in the hotel where the team would be holding the party in one of their grand ballrooms, so it wasn’t much of a trip to take, but he couldn’t help his nervousness when he knocked on their door with you standing beside him. 

 

He’s mentioned you to them before as a close friend he made in Rio, and they know that you’ve been here in Japan for a little while now, but he never shared much about his somewhat complicated relationship with you. Hinata is entirely confident that his family will like you, simply because you’re an amazing person and there is no reason that they couldn’t — he hopes you’ll like them as well — but he has no idea how the two of you would look to them. 

 

It’s not until you slide a soothing hand down his stiff back that he realizes that he’s been holding his breath. He takes a moment to breathe in a new one and gives you a grateful look before the door opens. “Shoyo, you’re here! You look so handsome!” His mother exclaims, patting the shoulders of his blazer. His sister is putting together a few last minute things in her bag before coming up behind their mother. 

 

“Hey, mom. Hey, Natsu.” He greets them with a smile, “Ah, this is [Name], who I told you I met in Rio.” 

 

“Good evening.” You smile and bow before coming in for a light hug. 

 

“Ah, so you’re the amazing [Name]-san we’re heard about.” His mother returns the hug affectionately, “It seems he failed to mention how beautiful you are!” 

 

“Oh, please.” You laugh and joke back and forth for a few beats before turning your attention to his sister, “And you’re Natsu-chan, right?” 

 

“Hello.” 

 

“I’m so glad to meet you.” You hug her as well, “Do you like volleyball as much as your brother over here?” 

 

“It’s pretty exciting! It’s hard not to keep up when your brother dedicates his life to volleyball and even goes pro.” she replies, and Hinata breathes at the fact that he has not yet been embarrassed so far. 

 

On the way to the ballroom, you make easy conversation with the other important women in his life, as expected. You tell them about your general background and life so far in Japan, and you ask Natsu how high school is going and his mother about general advice for things like Japanese cooking. 

 

He’s worried about leaving them alone with you while he runs off to grab drinks for everyone, but it’s something that can’t be helped. And when he returns, no one is giving him any strange looks or probing questions, so he supposes he should have just trusted you to know how to handle a situation. 

 

Everyone sips away, and as the night goes on, he’s running into his teammates one after another. It’s a flurry of endless introductions as the Jackals family gets to know each other. At one point, Hinata gets separated from his family and you to talk to an acquaintance of Coach Foster’s about his time playing beach volleyball and getting into a conversation about his career in the future. 

 

There’s quite a lot going on and for Hinata to take in, but he does his best to remember all the names and stories he hears through the evening. Most of it is good interaction and there are many possible business references for the future, but it is still quite a lot. So he seeks refuge through the night with friends and family he’s familiar with in between. Though there is one conversation that doesn’t have as much of a comforting effect as he was searching for. 

 

“Nii-chan, are you dating [Name]-san?” 

 

“Natsu!” Hinata exclaims. Why the heck would she ask that in front of their mother?? When she doesn’t elaborate on her question, he tries to calm his flush, “W-What makes you think I’m dating her?” 

 

“Well, she said she likes you.” She shrugs, like she was already close enough to you to know and have these kinds of conversations with you. “Do you not like her back?”

 

“That’s… That’s not it. I do.” He confesses. He can’t believe he’s admitting this to his little sister. And in front of his mother too. 

 

“So are you dating her?” 

 

“That’s a private matter!” He protests. 

 

“Why? It’s a simple question!” Natsu argues, before gasping, “Nii-chan, please don’t tell me you’re…” 

 

“Can we stop it there, please?!” He practically shouts, not wanting to go any further into this. He doesn’t even know what to call it! How can he possibly tell other people what it is? 

 

But what Natsu said is true… it is a simple question. So why is it that he can’t answer it? 

 

“Well, I think she’s lovely, Shoyo.” His mother drops in with a smile, “She’s so sweet, and smart. And she works very hard. I think she’s a great match for you.” 

 

“Mom!” He whines. 

 

“That’s only if you really do date her, I mean!” she sighs, waving away his exasperation, “But she’s got a lot of ambition. Who knows if she’s going to stay in Japan?” 

 

“Wait, what?” Hinata’s heart drops. Yet another thought that had never occurred to him. He’s always focused on the here and now as a stepping stone towards a future that isn’t so near, but also isn’t too far. But in your case, you’re here for school. Unless you decide to stay and work in Japan after you graduate, you might not be here for much longer. Heck, with your skill set, you could work anywhere in the world you wanted. His mother’s right about your ambition; it really could take you anywhere. It just hadn’t occurred to him that it might be away from him… 

 

“Did— Did she mention anything about… about her future plans?” He asks. 

 

“Not necessarily.” His mom hums, trying to recall all her conversations with you, “she’s quite focused on her dance team right now, but I think she mentioned she’s interested in interning for an international company of some sort. If she did, then I’d assume she’d be able to create many connections with others for her future.” 

 

“I see…” Hinata trails off, eyes already searching the large ballroom for you. After a few scans, he spots you on another side of the room, talking with his teammate, Barnes, and his family. 

 

He can’t hear your conversation from here, but he can clearly tell that you’re all speaking in rapid English with one another, and he sees how vibrant you are as you talk. There’s a different sort of aura to it than when you speak Japanese; it’s a little more expressive, unrestrained. 

 

He did notice that you would speak a little more calmly or in a neutral tone when using Japanese than when you were using Portuguese with your friends back in Rio. And though he’s not fluent in either English or Portuguese, he notices small differences in your expression with using one or the other as well. 

 

It’s a clear indication that you’re capable of communicating not only linguistically, but also culturally in so many ways. You’re able to crack a joke in any of the languages you know, and pull it off with casual ease. Not to mention you know how to use dance like a language too. Even through just watching a video, he can tell your body knows how to tell a story. And he knows you’ve got quite a story to tell; Hinata himself still learns about it every time he sees you. 

 

With as much potential as you have, why wouldn’t you want to take on the world? Maybe Japan is part of your current process for another higher goal you have in the future. Hinata would know a thing or two about that. Which is why he couldn’t possibly deter you from doing what you wanted, even if it meant not being able to see you every month anymore. 

 

“Shoyo-kun! What are you doing looking all dazed out?” A clap on his back breaks him out of his thoughts, “We’re at a party. Shouldn’t you be showing your lovely family over to the nice desserts they just set out?” 

 

“Atsumu-san,” he greets his teammate, “Hi.” 

 

Hinata quickly introduces the setter to his mom and sister and they chat just a bit about how they played against each other in high school before and how cool it is that they’re teammates now. “Natsu thought you were super cool back then~” Finally, it’s his turn to do some teasing, and his sister starts pouting and protesting this time. 

 

He’s about to start going on a short spree about how Natsu would shout in awe whenever she watched replays of Karasuno vs Inarizaki matches back in the day, but then his ears perk at the sound of a familiar tune that begins to play. “Oh.” He pauses, looking over to where the DJ is set up near the short stage of the ballroom, transitioning into a new vibe of music. 

 

“What’s the matter, Nii-chan?” Natsu asks. 

 

“Nothing,” he says, eyes still wandering about, subconsciously looking for someone, “it’s just that… I think I know this song.” 

 

“Is that so?” His mother pauses to take a listen along with him, “It sounds beautiful. How do you know it?”

 

“Shoyo!” A hand wraps around his arm and brings his attention to you — just when he had been searching for you after you disappeared from Barnes’ side of the room. “Do you remember this song?” There is a big, dazzling smile on your face. It’s enough to knock him back a few pegs. 

 

“U-Uh, yeah. I do.” He says, smiling back at you. 

 

“Oh, you know this song too, [Name]-chan?” Atsumu’s got his mischievous grin on again. 

 

“Yeah! It’s really popular in Brazil! I can’t believe they’re playing it right now. Maybe the DJ spotted me or something?” You joke with a laugh. “But anyway, Sho, do you want to dance with me?” 

 

There’s a collective hold of breath from everyone around him, and he most certainly couldn’t refuse in front of everyone, even if he wanted to. But he doesn’t want to refuse, because he does want to dance with you. The look of excitement on your face had convinced him even before you had asked the question. He almost feels bad for not asking first. 

 

“Sure, let’s go.” He holds his hand out in invitation. 

 

“Yay!” You cheer, sliding your hand into his before turning to the others, “I’ll just borrow Shoyo for a bit.” 

 

“No worries, I’ll keep the ladies company while you’re gone.” Atsumu reassures and waves him off. Hinata wants to feel indignant, but he does feel somewhat grateful too. 

 

“Take your time.” His mother smiles.

 

Before he can say another word, you’re dragging him away and out towards the DJ booth where there’s a bit more space from other partygoers and will have to act as the dance floor for now. Though there has been music filling the room, not many people have been dancing so far, so Hinata feels just a little self-conscious about everyone around. But for some reason, your confident hand in his reassures him that there’s nothing to be afraid of, that you’ll lead the way as you always do. 

 

So he places his hand on your back and presses close to you like he did before, hoping that his body will remember all the things you taught him back in Rio and the few times you asked him to waltz around with you in his apartment. The warmth of your skin seeps into his palm through the thin fabric of your dress, and your eyes look even brighter than usual with the pretty makeup you used to frame them tonight. 

 

You giggle a little before starting him off with a quiet 1-2 count so he can get into the rhythm of things. It takes a few steps, but he manages to take the lead through all the simple sequences you’ve taught him over time. You follow his lead gracefully and seamlessly, like water wading with his smallest of movements, and soon he doesn’t really have to think too much about it. Your body just gets it. 

 

The DJ has the grace to continue playing another song of a similar pace and tune for the two of you to dance to, and it just bleeds into the next dance. It’s like he’s back on the beach, or in that garden, or on the street outside of the jazz club in the rain with you. There’s a soft tranquility that blankets him and you away from everything else happening in the room, and he can somehow feel that your heartbeat matches his as your footsteps sync together. 

 

You do have to prompt him a couple of times, but he manages to spin you and bring you around under his arm to appear in front again without any bad hiccups. And though he isn’t as familiar with the songs as you are, you know exactly when to add some flair, as proven by the way you lean in to his ear to whisper, “Hold onto me,” before bowing your back in a swerving dip. The little laugh you share with him and only him when you come back up is kind of magical, and even makes Hinata sad for this to come to an end. 

 

When it does though, you take a graceful step back as you hold onto his hand and give him a dramatic bow. He returns the bow, and only after he comes back up does he realize that others in the room are clapping for the two of you. It’s like not he and you were putting on a performance or anything, but you both give a small gracious bow to the spectators too before returning hand-in-hand to the table his family was occupying. 

 

It looks like they did end up making a trip to the dessert table in the time he was away, because there are a few plates scattered about as his family, Atsumu, and even Bokuto has gathered around. “Wow, Hinata! I didn’t know you could dance! Did you teach him all of that, [Name]-chan?” Bokuto exclaims. 

 

“Yes, I think so.” You chuckle as Hinata grabs for a truffle that he thinks you’ll like and hands it to you. You take it wordlessly as you continue talking, “Sho is really quick at picking up things!” 

 

“Eh… not really. [Name] is just a really good teacher. She’s super patient with me.” Hinata disclaims. 

 

“Well ain’t that the truth.” Atsumu says from his spot leaning against the back of Natsu’s chair. There seems to be a collective nod among the others before you interrupt.

 

“Mm! Sho, this is so good! It tastes kind of like brigadeiros!” You gesture at the chocolate you just took a bite of. 

 

“Does it?” Hinata asks before taking a bite of his own. 

 

“You really do know how to dance though, [Name]-san!” His mother comments, “Perhaps if a regular nine-to-five job isn’t fitting, you could become a dancer!” 

 

“I’m not that good, Mrs. Hinata.” You laugh, waving off the notion, “But I am quite confident about dancing. My university team is actually going to audition for a big, national competition next month!” 

 

“Wait, what?” Hinata’s eyes widen and he races to finish swallowing the dessert he had just been chewing on, “[Name], you mean that big showcase you told me about that’s going to be on national TV? Your team made it to the final auditions for it??” 

 

“No, no. Not the big, national showcase. But these regional finals will still be televised.” You smile proudly. “It’s the top ten schools in the surrounding prefectures. We got the confirmation last week and we’ve been preparing and practicing like crazy. It’s going to be held at the stadium right at the edge of the city too!”

 

“That— That’s amazing!” He splutters, his heart swelling, “I’m so happy for you. Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” 

 

“Your first season just ended! I couldn’t interrupt the celebration!” You scoff, “Besides, I’m telling you now, aren’t I?” You pick up two champagne glasses from a passing waiter, and hand him one. “You’ll still come by to watch, right?” 

 

He takes the glass from you and says, “Of course! I will absolutely be there!” before clinking it with yours. You share a toast with the rest of the table at your good news so everyone can drink with you and give you their congratulations as well. 

 

You then take a seat beside Natsu as she asks you more about your dance background, while Atsumu and Bokuto bring Hinata aside to talk (tease) more about how he learned to dance from you in Brazil. They’re waiting for their orders at the bar as Atsumu sighs, “Shoyo-kun… this is getting tiring to watch. Are you ever going to do something about this iffy ‘friendship’ thing you have with her?” 

 

“It’s not iffy!” Hinata protests. 

 

“Wait, you guys are still really just friends?” Bokuto furrows his eyebrows, “But she’s getting along so well with your family! I thought you already introduced her to them as your girlfriend.” 

 

“She’s—! She’s not— Well, I don’t know.” Hinata groans. “It never seemed important to have to call it anything. It still feels like we’re really good friends, like back in Rio.” 

 

“But do you have sex with her?” Atsumu asks before taking a sip of his whiskey, deadpan but also completely serious.

 

“Uhhh…” Hinata is taken aback by the question, his eyes straying nervously to anywhere but his teammates. They’ve always teased him about you, but never really went too far to dig into the personal details. They usually had practice to focus on, so it was easy to keep that part of you to just himself. Sometimes it felt like an exciting secret only he could know. 

 

“So you do,” Atsumu sighs. “Oh, Shoyo-kun…” 

 

Bokuto laughs and pats his back proudly, “Hey, hey, hey Hinata! You’re pretty wild, huh! Going all the way to Brazil and getting a girlfriend there. Did you learn how to do the naked-in-bed dance from her too?” He wiggles his eyebrows. 

 

“Uh— Well… That’s…” His inability to answer is enough for his teammate to start laughing heartily.

 

“Well, whatever it is is between you guys. It’ll come up eventually if you really need to address it.” Bokuto settles as he takes a gulp of his own drink. 

 

“Right…” Hinata trails off, letting his eyes stray back across the room to where you’re still chatting with his sister, while Atsumu is saying something like, “Are ya really just gonna let ‘im off like that?” and shutting up after receiving a, “Well, aren’tcha stuck in something similar, Tsum Tsum?” as a retort. 

 

Everything always felt quite natural with you, enough so that Hinata always went with the flow of things instead of questioning them. He followed you all around the city of Rio de Janeiro, trying new foods, seeing new places, learning new culture, letting you lead the way to what he had full faith would be a good experience. The way his relationship developed with you felt the same way. 

 

It started simply, and slowly built into something that was a bit more than just friendship, with every kiss, dance, touch, and night he shared with you. And now he was here, in this strange intimate stage where he treats you like a best friend and a lover, but doesn’t necessarily call you either. 

 

Maybe it was enough, since his and your life were still quite separated by distance and life paths. He always thought every moment he had with you felt more like a gift — something he was receiving and always grateful for. He didn’t treat his time with you like he did volleyball, always wanting and asking for more, needing to have and do more . He didn’t even know if it was his place to ask that of you. 

 

And yet, on the occasion when he comes across the sight or thought of you being flirty with someone else, or remembering the possibility that you may not stay in Japan, or having to face the ‘simple question’ he can’t answer more and more often, he finds the whole thing hard to avoid.  And that being stuck wondering about it actually hurts a little… Is all of this enough? For him? For you? 

 

“Sho, is something wrong?” You bring a hand to his face later that night when he’s rutting against you in his bed. The tenderness in your eyes is always so sweet, telling him how much you treasure his well-being. You always check in with him. 

 

He’s beaded in sweat, his arms stacked strong on either side of your shoulders, but his rhythm is sloppier than usual, evidenced by the awkward angle his blanket pools at your joined waists — it’s usually fallen on the floor or balled in your fists by now. You’re lying naked and beautiful on your back in front of him, squeezing around him tight like you usually do despite the busy night where you must have been bombarded with similar questions about him. 

 

Were you unhindered? Unbothered? Was all of this enough for you? 

 

“Am I enough for you?” It slips out. The mood all but drops as your legs loosen around his waist, but your walls still twitch around him. 

 

Hinata isn’t sure you completely understand what he’s asking, but he watches as you search his face for what’s making him turn the air so fragile. And you don’t even ask him to elaborate, just pull him to your chest for a long, deep kiss before wrapping your arms around his back, “Sho, you’re absolutely incredible. Of course you’re enough. You always have been.” You turn your head to kiss his temple gently, sweetly, “You always will be.” 

 

Neither of you finish that night, despite how he stays warm inside of you. He just hugs and kisses you until you both fall asleep, sharing something deeper and even more unexplainable than before. 




*




Even though the regular season is over, Hinata is still practicing as always. There are all kinds of volleyball tournaments that go on throughout the year — relegation games, collegiate games, regional and international cups. He doesn’t participate in all of them, but he’s working his way into it. Some of his teammates are very involved in teams outside of the Black Jackals and get to play volleyball in a competitive zone almost all the time. He can’t wait to be at that level too. 

 

He’s known from the beginning that the hard work will never end, but he’s starting to realize that the frustration doesn’t stop either. Seeing all of his teammates and rivals alike moving ahead, participating in world championships, getting invited to train with and play for the national team, joining international leagues… Everyone is still far ahead of him. Of course he knows that he has to work at his own pace, and he’s always taken the road less traveled, and that hard work will eventually pay off, but that doesn’t stop the frustration he feels. 

 

Still, he knows that he just has to convert that frustration into hunger and ambition — he’ll just have to keep working to become even better than he is. Soon, he’ll catch up to all the others and maybe even show them a thing or two of his own. 

 

That post-season party ended up giving Hinata a few opportunities to consider in regards to leveling up in training. Disregarding the invitations to switch to other teams for the time being, he’s been invited to observe and train with a few retired coaches or international teams. So he makes good on every opportunity he has to learn something new, to see what he can eat up next to grow bigger and stronger. He needs to be able to walk among all the other volleyball giants, especially after making a splash during his first season. 

 

He took a short trip home after the season ended, but honestly, he was itching to just get back on the court to prepare for the next one. For the most part, he still just attends regular practice at the MSBY gymnasium, and occasionally travels around to observe or visit other teams. His teammates are sometimes absent from practice due to their affiliation with teams outside of the V-league, or working on their own projects, appearing at youth volleyball camps, and doing brand deals. Hinata hopes to be able to do some of these things in the future too, but for now, he has to maintain his place on the court by putting in the work in the gym, more than anyone else. 

 

To his luck, he gets along pretty well with Coach Foster, who takes his time to train him individually whenever he can and gives him valuable advice. His coach has quite the map of connections around the world, and there’s often another old friend, acquaintance, or colleague of his that comes to visit the MSBY gym to observe the team and offer their own unique insight. Hinata and the rest of the team have had the great honor of meeting quite a few big stars in volleyball up until this point, and they’ve all taken special note of each interaction they had. 

 

And one day, someone particularly high up in the volleyball sphere makes a surprise appearance during a business trip in the area. Coach Foster rounds up the team to introduce an old teacher and idol of his, Ivan Sharov. 

 

The introduction was relatively simple and humble, but it was clear that the entirety of the Black Jackals team was shaking in awe of the tall, intimidating, and very experienced man before them. This was a man who took several international leagues by storm when he joined them each for a few years as a crushing point-getter — whether through spiking or blocking — before eventually spending his last two seasons on home plate in Russia. He retired almost two decades ago, but pretty much every pro volleyball player has watched a ton of his old tapes, possibly gone to one of his old games and begged for an autograph, and would be honored to even be acknowledged by him as an athlete. 

 

For Hinata, a player of this caliber was far beyond his realm, and he had never even dreamed of being able to stand in the same room, let alone have the honor of being observed and coached by such a legend. So the mere fact that he’s shaking in his shoes while standing in a line with all his other teammates, trying to keep it together in front of the Ivan Sharov, feels like a fever dream conjured from pure magic. 

 

“Ivan here has an Olympic training camp to visit tomorrow, but he came here a day early out of his busy schedule to come visit the MSBY Black Jackals for an afternoon. You’ll practice as you usually do, and he’ll be around to observe. And if he’s feeling generous, he may even stay later to give you each some individual coaching advice after seeing what you’ve all got.” Coach Foster shares a challenging smile with the volleyball giant, who nods and says a simple, “Sure” in response. The MSBY coach dismisses everyone with a last word of, “I hope you’ll make the most out of this rare opportunity.” 

 

It’s almost impossible to do warmups normally with the collective jitters traveling around the team, knowing that Ivan Sharov is watching. But they all do their best not to completely freak out and spike out all the nerves until they can find their usual rhythm. Some members bounced back better than others, but there were still a few fumbles in the beginning that aren’t usually there by this point in practice. 

 

Atsumu had tried acting the coolest out of everyone, but his tosses were a little more dramatic than usual, and there were quite a few missed spikes all around. Every word or comment shouted out from the sidelines by the Russian legend made everyone freeze up in intimidated surprise, but eventually, everyone started settling down from their starstruck stupors to play normally again. If Hinata says so himself, the normal Black Jackals are quite a force to be reckoned with. 

 

Everyone holds their own and the usual encouraging banter is swimming around the gym again. Hinata manages to show off quite a few impressive plays and tries not to tingle in glee when he hears a soft, accented “wow” in the background. 

 

The grueling hours of practice seem to fly by today, as Sharov stops by through different points of practice to give individual members snippets of advice every so often and address the team collectively at the end of official practice hours. Then he announces that he will stay back a little while to give everyone some individual coaching and advice based on what he’s seen today. “It’s a very impressive team, and I think many of you already play at a skill level that took me many more years to reach. Your potential is limitless, and I’m sure some of you will surpass me in the future. I’m honored to offer my piece to aid in your growth.” 

 

He cannot believe this is happening. None of them can. To think that a world class ace in all of volleyball history is here to coach them, and even take the time to give them each individual advice!!! This is something that some may never have the chance to experience in their lifetime, and Hinata fully intends to do his best and learn what he can from someone he and so many others idolize in this sport. 

 

There’s just one problem. 

 

Your dance competition is tonight. And it is happening… kind of soon. Hinata had lost track of time during practice and he would have to leave this very second — forego a shower and resembling anything that would look put together — in order to be able to make it out to the stadium where the competition is being held. 

 

The guilt of even having to weigh out this decision is heavy on his heart. He had promised you he would be there to watch, and this would be the first time he came out to watch you in person since he couldn’t make it out to any of your performances in the past. You were expecting him to be there as you danced your heart out for the whole nation to see, probably already thinking he was waiting in line to get to his seat. 

 

And here he was, at a crossroads, having to make a choice between you and volleyball. He stands there, zoning out of Coach Foster’s last announcements until he dismisses everyone. And he doesn’t realize he’s still standing there until Bokuto asks, “Hinata? What’s up?” 

 

“I’m in trouble…” he confesses.

 

“Hm?” His teammate tilts his head in confusion. 

 

“[Name]’s dance competition is tonight… and I’m already late… but…” 

 

“Ah…” Bokuto hisses, crossing his arms, “That is quite a tough situation. What’re you gonna do?” 

 

“I don’t know!!” Hinata shouts desperately, “What should I do?? What would you do, Bokuto-san?” 

 

“Hmmmmmmmm………………” Bless his heart, he really appears to be thinking hard about it like it’s actually happening to him. And he groans loudly because he can’t seem to make the choice either, “That’s so hard! How could I choose between a world-renowned coach and my girlfriend?!” 

 

“Uh…” Now isn’t the time to correct or address that label, but that isn’t necessarily the exact situation he’s in. Though he supposes it also isn’t not…? 

 

Hinata glances over to where Sharov is already having a detailed conversation with Meian, and by the look of intrigued awe on the captain’s face, he’s already received some valuable advice. And in his heart, Hinata has a feeling he knows where he leans… 

 

“I’m sure [Name]-chan will understand.” Atsumu pipes in from Hinata’s other side, stretching his triceps over his head, “I mean, ya already do all kinds’a stupid things that’d make any other girl upset, and she’s still stuck around. What’s another?” 

 

“But…” Hinata falters, “but this is really important to her. And I promised her I’d watch it.” 

 

“Well, you can still watch it. It’s gonna be on TV, isn’t it?” Atsumu shrugs, “I mean, ‘course it’s still up to you, but ya said that she’s not exactly your girlfriend, so what’s the big emergency? You might get chances to see her dance again. Dunno how many more chances you’ll get to work with Ivan Sharov though.” 

 

“Tsum Tsum, are you really the best person to be dishing out girl advice when you couldn’t even bring the date you wanted?” 

 

“Geh.” 

 

Hinata’s breath hitches, and he thinks it over again and again. This is one of his hardest decisions to date. In the past, he’s always chosen volleyball over anything without hesitation. But you’re one of the only things that’s ever made him think twice. He’d like to think that you’d want him to do his best for his career, but would it really be worth it to miss your first big, regional performance? 

 

Just then, Coach Foster calls him and Atsumu over towards him and Sharov to talk. Hinata’s heart palpitates as he listens to the retired giant talk about how incredible his quick attack is, and how he’s never seen anything like it. And as they get to discussing the technicalities of it, and how they’ve trained it to work in-game, Hinata knows he’s going to be here for a while. There’s so much valuable information for him to take from this opportunity, from this incredible athlete. 

 

In the back of his head, he reasons that maybe he’ll be able to rush in and catch the performance since your team doesn’t come on until the latter half of the lineup, but as he walks off onto the court to do a practical demonstration with Atsumu, he sends a silent prayer and apology to you. 




*




Each and every car in this jam of traffic feels like another drop of panic that floods his body, and it leaks out in the form of annoying questions to his driver every half minute. After Sharov took off for the evening, Hinata had dashed out of the gym without so much as a goodbye to his team to catch a taxi out to the stadium. Unfortunately, there were many other drivers and passengers filling the streets at the same time. Was it because of the competition? 

 

You had said it was a dance event involving several neighboring prefectures, after all, and had warned him to get there early if he could. That ship had long sailed when Ivan Sharov stepped into the gym, but he hadn’t realized how much of a backup it would cause for the intercity commuters. He should’ve known better than to underestimate the number of people involved in the world of college dance teams. And now that he’s been stuck in this brick wall of traffic for over half an hour, he definitely should have made the ten minute run over to the subway station instead. 

 

God… you are going to kill him. Or who knows what you might do? He’s never actually seen you get mad before, not seriously at least. Even when you told him stories about how you got angry at your friends or siblings, you told them in a humorous way that made it sound like there were never hard feelings. He knows you’re a pretty happy person in general, but he would not be able to blame you at all if you got angry with him over this. 

 

There’s a small part of him that hopes that Atsumu was right, and that your boundless patience with him might come out to grace him with miraculous forgiveness. Though deep down, he knows that he wouldn’t deserve it, and even if you did react graciously, then he’d feel even guiltier. Sure, there might be opportunities to see you dance in the future, but a promise was a promise… And he never imagined he’d intentionally break one… 

 

On one hand, he gained a lifetime of valuable information and counsel from an actual volleyball king, and he’s incredibly grateful for the opportunity. But on the other hand, he can’t stop feeling awful about missing your performance. He’s been trying to stream it live on his phone, but with all the car traffic, there’s also too much internet traffic for him to get a good connection. Is this karma punishing him for his choices…? 

 

He doesn’t want to think it was the wrong choice to work with Sharov, otherwise he never would’ve made it, but now he’s starting to anxiously wander into thoughts about what you’d do once he faces you. He really can’t predict a thing… He never has been able to with you… 

 

“How much farther until the next exit?” Hinata asks the driver yet again. 

 

“Still a few kilometers, sir…” The driver sighs. 

 

“How much longer do you think it’ll be?” He can’t help asking, his nerves are trapped inside his body just like this car in this traffic. 

 

“I’m not sure. At this point, I’m guessing it might still be another half an hour.” 

 

“Oh, man…” He starts fidgeting again. He kind of wants to jump out of the taxi and just sprint the rest of the way there, but he knows that that would be dangerous and illegal out on the freeway and he might get arrested before he gets to the stadium… 

 

So he does the only thing he can think of to calm down; he meditates. Unbuckling his seatbelt, Hinata brings his legs up to the seat and starts taking deep breaths. Within a few minutes, he’s brought his heartbeat down to a more reasonable bpm and focused his mind on only one thing to restore his body to calm. And before he knows it, he can feel the engine thrumming beneath him and they’re moving in the city again! Finally! 

 

“Oh, thank goodness!” He exclaims, buckling himself back in at the request of the driver. “Please get there as fast as possible!” 

 

It takes another ten minutes to get to the area of the stadium, but there are a ton of cars going in and out of the area because the competition seems to have ended… All the spectators are beginning to file out and hail their own cabs or drive out in their own cars. And Hinata isn’t able to get out of the car and run the rest of the way there until the taxi reaches a pedestrian safe zone, due to the strict traffic and security guards at the venue. 

 

Once they’re in the safe zone, Hinata pushes what he hopes is enough bills to make up for his annoying presence during the ride into the driver’s lap before literally jumping out of the car and sprinting up the front. He doesn’t necessarily need to run anymore since the show is clearly over, but jumping and dashing along ledges and stairs and dodging people at every angle somewhat helps him run the panic out of his system. 

 

And once he reaches the steps leading up to the main entrance doors of the stadium, the density of people increases exponentially. Because he’s going in the opposite direction, he bumps into people left and right, and apologizes a record amount of times per second. 

 

However, something stops him in his tracks. The lights flashing from the gargantuan LED screen above the stadium doors are pictures of all the different university dance teams featured in the regional competition tonight. And for several seconds, he’s staring right into your face — or rather, a poster of your face, standing at the forefront of your dance group with two others in outfits that stand out slightly from your other team members behind you. 

 

Across the bottom of the team photo is the name of your university and team, while at the top reads: 

 

‘Congratulations to 2nd place runner up’



The image quickly flashes to another university team, congratulating the regional winners who would be advancing to the national finals. At that moment, someone — one of the stadium employees — hands him a poster of the event with all the universities that participated. Your university team’s logo is printed near the center, slightly larger than many of the others, which must mean that it was a rather anticipated performance for the organizers and the fans… 

 

God, what has he done… 

 

For the next twenty minutes, he’s lollygagging around the perimeter of the stadium until he eventually finds the parking lot, where he sees lots of charter buses are parked for the different teams that haven’t left yet. There’s one bus with your university team’s logo on the side — yet another sign that your team is more prestigious than he initially knew — so he ends up waiting around there for a while, drifting in and out of his thoughts. 

 

“Sho? Sho! Is that you?” Your voice eventually calls out to him, and he flits his head around until he spots you waving among your group of uniformly dressed dancers. You look insanely cool together. He waves back weakly and approaches you as you jog over. “Hey! You didn’t message me, so I didn’t know if you left or not.” 

 

“Oh, uh…” Hinata sucks in an uneasy breath, “Actually… I kind of… just got here…” 

 

The way your face falls into confusion is expected, but what’ll come next is a roulette that he has never spun. “What do you mean?” You ask. 

 

“I uhm… There’s no easy way to say this, but I— I missed the performance.” He confesses, “There was an amazing coach who came to visit and I ended up staying later than planned, and I got caught in traffic and— and I didn’t make it. I’m so sorry, [Name]. It was a mess of things and I should have been more responsible about it and… I’m sorry.” He bows deeply to you, almost touching his chest to his knees.

There are a few moments of silence before you say, “Shoyo, stand up.” When he does, your expression is blank, but there’s a fire sparking in your eyes. He knows how to read your face well enough to spot the upset brewing within you. “You missed the performance? All of the performances?” You demand. 

 

“Yes.” he bows his head. 

 

“So you mean you never even sat in your seat tonight. Did you even step inside the stadium?” 

 

“No… I didn’t make it in time.” 

 

“I see…” You don’t continue, and Hinata’s heart just might stop after being overworked for so long. 

 

“I’m really, really sorry, [Name].” He apologizes again, bowing once more. 

 

“No, I get it. It must’ve been a really important guy or something if you missed out on this to work with him.” You say, but you’re not looking at him and there’s a clear bitterness in your tone. “You could have at least left me a message or something to tell me.” 

 

“I didn’t want to tell you something like that over text or phone call.” 

 

“How thoughtful of you.” You deadpan, still not looking at him as you cross your arms. A physical barricade for the mental wall you’ve just put up. The fact that you don’t bother to say anything else makes it even harder to read what you’re feeling or how to talk to you. 

 

“I… I saw that your team placed second.” He tries, “Congratulations.” 

 

“Yeah, guess we did okay. We didn’t win or anything, so I guess you didn’t totally miss out.” You shrug, and now Hinata has to protest. It’s not unprecedented for you to be upset, but for you to even joke that he doesn’t think your performance is valuable enough for him to see unless you win is completely absurd. 

 

“[Name]! Don’t say that! Please,” he takes your hand in both of his, pleadingly, “I really tried to make it to your performance no matter what. But I was naive to not consider all the other factors that would keep me from getting here in time. I’m really so, so sorry. I don’t expect you to forgive me, but please, I know your performance was amazing. Don’t say something like that.” 

 

“Whatever, Sho.” You scoff, yanking your hand away from him. Funny how it also feels like you’re pulling his heart out with it. “If you say that you tried your best and couldn’t make it, I believe you. I understand.” You sigh, glancing behind you before saying, “I gotta get back to my team.” 

 

He calls out to you but you’re already walking away, towards your bus where a few of your teammates linger with curious glances as they wait for you. He doesn’t know if he even has the right to follow you, or what he would even say if he caught up to you. 

 

But then, suddenly you double back. You’re almost halfway back to your bus before you turn tail and march right back up to him with a new, blazing determination on your face. It totally scares him but at the same time, it suits you more than acting like you’re fine through passive aggressive jabs. 

 

“Actually, you know what?” You stop in front of him, “No! I don’t understand! I’m really disappointed in you, Shoyo!” 

 

Hinata had braced himself for this, but the hurt in your voice and in your eyes still pierces through to his heart, and he kind of wants to be dead. Though he supposes that would be too merciful on him, seeing how much he hurt you. “I’m sorr—” 

 

“I know you’re dedicated to volleyball, I know you are. I have always known you are. I admire your dedication, and I know you’re a pro athlete now who’s going to meet amazing people and do amazing things. But if something like this could come up during an event that I told you was important to me, then you shouldn’t make promises like, ‘I’ll absolutely be there! No matter what!’ You really got my hopes up, Shoyo.” Your voice cracks at the last few words, after having risen in volume, which makes the pain coming out that much clearer. And it only amplifies the sight of tears that start forming and spilling from the corners of your eyes. 

 

“[Name]... I…” 

 

“Save it.” You sniffle, turning around to walk to your bus again. But this time, you stop just about five steps away and double back once more. 

 

He thinks you’re going to say something else that just might shatter his heart altogether. But instead, there’s a sharp sting on his cheek and a jarring shift in his vision before he realizes you just slapped him across the face. 

 

When he recovers from the shock and turns his head back in your direction, you’re already on your way back to the bus. This time, you don’t turn back. 



*



He spends a lot of time standing there in that spot — and eventually crouching — just replaying what happened over and over in his head, thinking about every word you said to him and turning the pain in his chest up a notch with each one. At some point in time, he’s asked to vacate the premises and somehow, he trudges his way over to the subway station nearest, boards a random train, and sits staring blankly at the floor for who knows how long. 

 

He can’t get the sound of your voice out of his head. The obvious hurt, the way you tried to cover up your emotions before letting them spill through the cracks. He recalls you telling him that you always felt comfortable with him, that you felt you could be your complete self around him. And yet… in that moment, when he let you down, you had closed up. He forced you into a situation where you felt the need to be complacent despite your feelings, to keep face instead of being true to yourself. 

 

He hated it. It was only a brief moment before you consciously decided to tell him how you felt after all, but in that moment, it felt like the trust he had built with you over these few years had been lost. And he absolutely hated it. 

 

Hinata values your trust and friendship more than anything. Yet now that he thinks about it, he hasn’t been putting in the work to show you that. You’ve always come out to support him at his games, make time to visit him, keep up with a sport that you were never invested in before, and even back in Brazil. You were always showing him support, no matter what side of the world you were on. 

 

Has he done anything for you that could possibly measure up? Hinata puts so much pride in going the extra mile against the odds when it comes to volleyball. He’s run a sports club on his own, learned to play with a fated rival he swore to defeat, biked across a mountain for three years, crashed training events he wasn’t invited to, moved halfway across the world to train himself from the bottom up, only to return to Japan as a no-name athlete to try out for a Division 1 team. He did all of that without hesitation. 

 

And yet, he hasn’t shown you the same effort. Hesitation is all he’s shown you. Hesitation to return your affection, your feelings, to address what is really going on between you two, to turn it into something it might not be because he didn’t understand what it was to begin with. 

 

The truth of the matter is that he never chased after you like he did volleyball. You came right into his life and showed him all these new colors and feelings, and he went along for the ride. You were a friend he trusted and enjoyed being with, so even when he was confused when you kissed him for the first time, he went along with it. Now, it’s gotten so much farther than he ever imagined just by letting it happen, to play out naturally. 

 

It’s the complete opposite of how he’s been living out his life for the past decade. He didn’t have to chase after you, you had already accepted him as he is from the beginning. And even though he had so much he lacked as you showed him the ropes through romantic companionship, you taught him to be better, to do more. You were always there giving him so much. 

 

That night, you told him that he was enough for you. Even after you shouted at him tonight, you never took it back. But seeing the tears on your face, hearing the trembling cracks in your voice, feeling the weight of your disappointment, it’s clear to him that he hasn’t been enough for you. And that hurts more than any slap to the face. 

 

Sucking in a few deep breaths, he sits up and notes the upcoming station the train is approaching. After navigating through the chat histories and maps on his phone, he makes a few transfers and about an hour later, he’s standing in front of the inn that you had said your team was staying at. 

 

It’s late now, approaching midnight. He doesn’t even know if you’re asleep or you went out with your friends for your last night in town. But he walks into the inn and asks the receptionist if it’d be possible to make a call to the rooms your team is staying in. He’s getting the spiel about how they don’t disturb their guests after a certain time in the evening, when someone passing by a vending machine in the lobby spots him. 

 

“Hinata-san, is that you?” The girl asks. He recognizes her as one of your teammates, though he can’t recall her name. 

 

“Oh, good evening.” He bows to her, “Uhm… is uhm…” 

 

“[Name]-chan is still awake, if that’s what you’re wondering.” She fills in the gaps, “Though I saw what happened earlier at the stadium… Are you sure you still want to talk to her right now?” 

 

“Ah… so she’s still really upset.” He surmises from the warning. 

 

“Yeah.” She shrugs, “Color me impressed. I couldn’t believe she slapped a Div. 1 athlete and you still came here. You’ve both got some guts.” 

 

“Ah, yeah…” He rubs the back of his head awkwardly, but after another breath, he asks, “Do you think you could ask her to come downstairs? I really want to talk with her.” 

 

Your teammate raises her eyebrows curiously and shrugs again, “Sure. I’ll ask her.” 

 

“Thank you so much.” He bows as your friend disappears down the hall and up the stairs. 

 

Hinata waits for the next couple of minutes in bated breath, pacing the lobby and getting suspicious looks from the reception desk. But finally — thankfully — you emerge into the lobby. You’re on guard, with your arms crossed in front of your chest, and you’re wearing one of the inn’s nice yukata. You don’t say anything, just stare at him as he stands straight at attention before you. 

 

“Hey…” He finally starts. 

 

“Why are you here?” Your voice is hard, built like a wall. One he has to break through. 

 

“I wanted to talk…” He says, “Do you have time?” 

 

You consider him for another few seconds before sighing and silently walking out the front door of the inn, away from the eyes and ears of the public lobby. Hinata follows you swiftly to a small area in front of the property, and stops in front of you when you turn around to face him. 

 

Even when you’re upset and you’ve got your walls up, you still look radiantly beautiful under moonlight. He’s only ever seen you in a yukata through photos, but you look really good in one, despite how this one isn’t even particular in design or specifically fitted for you. It’s only when you ask, “Well?” that he realizes he’s just been staring at you in silence. 

 

“Right.” He takes a breath, “I know you’re severely disappointed in me, and you’re right to be. The fact is that I promised you my support, and I didn’t show up. There’s no changing that no matter what excuse I make. But I still want to tell you how deeply sorry I am, from the bottom of my heart.” 

 

You continue to stay silent, just piercing him with your eyes like his entire life rides on what he will say next. So he continues, “I don’t know what I could possibly do to make it up to you, but please give me a chance to do so. Please.” He bows to you at a right angle, ready to stay in this position for as long as he needs. 

 

You take your time to decide how long that is, but eventually, you say with a somewhat defeated voice, “Stand up, Shoyo.” 

 

He gulps before he does so. You don’t sound very appeased, but he’d like to think it’s an improvement from the cold silence you had given him earlier. When he looks up, you’ve still got your arms crossed, and you’re looking off to the side. 

 

“I know it’s not all your fault, Shoyo.” You say, “I understand that your life is going to go full speed ahead, and sometimes there’ll be opportunities that you can’t pass up. And I’m not asking you to choose me over your career or volleyball or anything. But the fact of the matter is, that still hurt me.” 

 

Hinata’s breath stops as he listens to you. Your voice is relatively steady, but the hurt in your face is clear enough even under the dim porch lights from the inn. But he doesn’t interrupt. 

 

“I mean, the entire time I was up there, getting excited backstage and doing the entire routine with my team, I thought that you were watching. I wanted you to see something that I could do. Maybe feel the same way I feel when I watch you play volleyball.” You sigh as you turn back to face him, “And then you told me you didn’t even make it to your seat and I felt like a fool. I mean, I always knew there’d be a possibility you couldn’t watch, but you told me — convinced me — that you’d be there. So I believed you. 

 

“And again, even if it’s not your fault, it still hurt me.” You finish, your crossed arms loosening just a bit. 

 

For the first time, you look fragile. He’s never seen you vulnerable like this, not to this degree. Since he met you, he’s always known you as a bright, confident leader who marches into life without qualms. Even when he shared a bed with you, without barriers between your skin, you took the confident lead, and guided him to every new destination. 

 

Now, your walls are back down, and he can see the vulnerability you had underneath. And it’s not at all unlike his own feelings when he’s learning something new with you. But the difference is that his never came from disappointment or pain. 

 

Without any more hesitation, Hinata reaches forward to take your hand and cradle it in both of his, “[Name], I promise you, I never meant to hurt you. I never want to hurt you. You’re important to me.” 

 

“You have a funny way of showing it.” You frown, staring down at your hand in both of his. 

 

“I don’t know how to.” He sighs, looking down, frustrated that this is the truth. “I’ve never done any of this before, so I’m sorry you have to always show me how to do everything… I’m trying my best but I’ve never had a girlfriend before.” 

 

Hinata doesn’t realize the word has slipped out until after it already has. And there’s silence. Then he panics. Are you uncomfortable? Was he too presumptuous?? Should he take it back?? 

 

But then, you say, “I’m your girlfriend?” 

 

He glances back up at your face and sees that you’re smiling. Just a peek, nothing that says you’re overjoyed or anything, but you don’t seem adverse to the idea at all. In fact, you almost look… flattered, which is beyond Hinata’s fathomable imagination. 

 

“W-Well! Of course. What else would you be?” He proclaims as if he’s known all along, but he really did only just realize it. There’s nothing else that you possibly could be to him. He wouldn’t do any of this with anyone else, and he wouldn’t be so shaken about hurting you if he didn’t care about you at least that much. 

 

And his fear and avoidance were no excuses to lie to you or himself when he had a pretty good idea of what he wanted already. It was clear when he could feel himself light up when you walked out of the train station, when he panicked at the thought of you staying at another guy’s place, when he could picture nobody else but you to fall asleep by his side. 

 

“You’re the only one I want.” There’s a reason he traveled blindly across the city while beating himself up over upsetting you, only to show up at your (rented) doorstep at midnight to beg for your forgiveness. And it’s clear to him now, as he takes your hand and holds it close to his chest — against his heart — to whisper, “Eu te amo...” 

 

Your breath hitches in your throat, and Hinata waits for the several beats it takes for you to take it in. Honestly, he has to let it sink in for himself.

 

He’s never said that before. Not in any language. Not like that. 

 

“Shoyo…” You breathe, and he sees your eyes have gotten glossy. 

 

“I know we never actually talked about it, and I should have a while ago.” He admits, “But I mean it.” 

 

He’s prepared to wait for you to find the words to respond to his confession, but it seems you don’t need them. You just kiss him without another word. 

 

His face is cupped in your hands and he brings you closer with an arm around your waist. You kiss him with an urgency that he can’t help but return. It feels a little more hurried than usual, like you want this to escalate as quickly as possible by the way you practically sit yourself on one of his thighs — right here, out in the open in the front of this inn. With the way you probe into his mouth with your tongue, it doesn’t seem like it’ll be impossible either. 

 

Yet despite the urgency, it still feels deep. Like you’re sharing a profound emotion between the two of you that connects like a red thread, and the heat traveling between your bodies acts as a physical channel. Maybe Hinata has always had some sort of inner resonance with you; he felt it that night he danced with you in the rain, and he still feels it during special moments that he shares only with you. There are some things he just gets about you that don’t need to be explained. 

 

And right now, with the way you’re trying to grind on his leg, he can easily tell you’re prepared to throw caution to the wind and commit an act of public indecency. You whine when he pulls away, but he has to get both your heads on straight, “[Name], we can’t do this here.” He insists, though his argument isn’t very compelling since he’s so out of breath. 

 

“Then how about here?” You smirk playfully as you lead him by the hand around the corner until you’re at the back of the inn, hidden from street lamps and porch lights and pedestrians, only at the mercy of the single backdoor at the top of a staircase that probably leads to a staff room. 

 

“[N-Name], I don’t know about this…” He looks around nervously as you guide him to a space close to the solid back wall of the staircase that juts out from the adjacent wall of the inn. It feels something like having half a box to hide you from peeping eyes, but there’s no guarantee that someone won’t pop out of that door from above and catch you with just a glance down to their left. 

 

And it seems you couldn’t care less, because you’re loosening the obi belt around your waist to pull the sleeve down on one side, exposing your shoulder and the swell of your breast. “You sure?” You ask with a tilt of your head. 

 

Well, when you put it like that, there’s no way he can’t throw himself back at you. He clutches at your shoulders, one that’s deliciously bare and the other that waits for him to slide the other sleeve of the yukata off. But he doesn’t, not completely. You look so beautiful in this Japanese garment that it’d be a waste to just throw it off to the side. 

 

So he slides the sides of the yukata off just enough to leave your shoulders and part of your chest bare, but keeps the obi fastened around your waist. You give him an amused hum before bringing your arms around his neck to pull him in for another kiss. 

 

This time, however, he takes the lead. He shows you everything he’s learned from you and returns it twofold. And just for good measure, he slips his hands underneath the flaps of your yukata to pull your hips flush against him. You gasp against his mouth at the action, but he doesn’t stop. He moves down to kiss at your jaw and neck, then down and across your collarbones. You sigh his name up into the sky as you lean your head back for him. 

 

Underneath his fingers, he feels nothing but skin and the cotton fabric of your panties. There’s a rush of excitement that zips right down to his dick from the fact that you came down to talk to him wearing practically nothing underneath this single robe, but also a gripping jerk at his chest when he thinks about all the other boys on your dance team that may have been in the same room as you while you were dressed like this. It’s a double-edged sword of sexy, but Hinata copes by dragging his fingers across your slit through your underwear — and finds you soaking. 

 

“Mm…” you whine softly as he moves your underwear aside to dip just the tips of his fingers along the seams of your wet lips to slide back and forth along the length of them. 

 

“You’re so wet…” He breathes against your ear, knowing you like to hear his voice. “How long have you been ready for me?” 

 

You hum a giggle, bringing him in for another kiss, “Since the day I met you.” 

 

Now that’s an answer Hinata was not expecting. He feels the need to stop for a moment to just take you in, relish and commit to memory the image of you in this disheveled yukata, pressed up against the wall with his fingers inside of you — lit only by the dim backdoor light above the stairs. You’re absolutely glowing, and the way you twitch around his fingers as he continues to stare at you suddenly makes him ravenous. 

 

He sinks his fingers in deeper as he comes in for another kiss, leading you to his tune again as he strums a few chords against your warm walls. He curls up towards a spot he knows gets you panting, and like clockwork, you’re tossing your head back and pressing your hips forward to ride on his fingers as he works you apart from the inside. “Ah— Sho!” you gasp. 

 

While you’re panting hurriedly, he makes his way down to leave small bites along your chest. You always requested for him to be careful about where he placed them, but he had always secretly wished he could decorate more across your skin because he liked the sight of them on you. He liked leaving a little bit of proof that he was with you. 

 

Your walls are working a little harder to squeeze around his fingers now, so he can tell you’re getting close. So he cranes his head down to tuck one side of your yukata down beneath your breast with his teeth before moving in to wrap his lips around your pert nipple. You hum in delight as his mouth and hand move in tandem to bring you to your peak, and your fingers grip tightly to his hair as you come into his palm. 

 

He makes sure to drag his fingers along your sensitive walls as he pulls them out, and you purr in delight. Though he’s always been a bit shy to make a show of licking at your emission on his fingers like you would for his, he doesn’t mind the taste of it at all. And this time, he makes sure you’re watching as he drags his tongue along the length of each of his fingers. 

 

“Ugh, Shoyo…” You groan, standing on your feet again to step forward and grip at his shoulders. Then you lean in to whisper a familiar, “Hold onto me,” before bringing your legs up to wrap around his waist and hang off of him. 

 

He has your butt in his palms to hold you up, but he wants them under the yukata. So he steps forward until your back is pressed against the wall before pushing aside the cotton fabric to get to your warm, plush skin. “Shoyo,” you call, and he looks up to see you puckered up and waiting for a kiss, so he concedes. 

 

Even if he wasn’t dizzy off of the fever of the night, your messy yukata, and the scent of fresh spring water coming off your skin, he’d still give in to your every wish. And if you want to send him to the hospital by unwrapping the obi to let the sides of your yukata fall open and expose your naked flesh to him, so be it. 

 

You drape the belt around his neck, and somehow, the view gets even prettier. The yukata hangs to your frame by the sleeves at your elbows, and the obi dangling from the back of his neck sweeps at the tops of your thighs that wrap around his waist like a ribbon. And he knows the gift that lies beneath is one worthy of bringing wars to an end. 

 

“Sho, come into me.” You say, your arms bringing him close once more. 

 

He hums as he kisses you, and keeps your body up with one arm as he pulls the band of his shorts down. He simply lets the weight of his cock rest against your stomach as he repositions his grip on your thighs. You both meet eyes before looking down at the same time to watch as you take his length into your hand, and stroke him until he starts leaking from the tip. 

 

No matter how showy he tries to be, he’ll still never hold a candle to you — he realizes as you swipe the drop of precum off his tip and bring your thumb up to drag down the length of your tongue. He releases a shaky breath as he watches you, and you smile back at him, full of satisfaction before pulling him in for another kiss. 

 

As you kiss him, your hands do their part to push the crotch of your panties aside and slowly slide his hard shaft through your warm, waiting entrance. He moans in sync with you as he lets his forehead fall against yours. You exchange a few breaths as you get adjusted to him, but Hinata feels like something is up when you start smiling. 

 

“Shoyo.” 

 

“What is it?” 

 

“Eu também te amo,” you murmur against his lips. 

 

He has a feeling he knows why you waited until he was inside you to say that, because the way his breathing stops and his dick twitches can’t be hidden from your body. Nor can the physical desire he has for you as he grabs hold of your hips and just starts pounding into you.

 

It’s a stark contrast to the sweet, trudging atmosphere that had been holding up until that point. Never had he expected to go through so many motions of heartache, desperation, and confession in one evening; it’s like he lived through a movie. And all of it has manifested into this intense desire to have you in the deepest, harshest, most intimate way possible. 

 

He couldn’t count the number of ways he wants to take you tonight, but right now? He has your hands braced against his chest and the wall of the staircase, your yukata barely hanging off of your body, and your head up begging to the sky. All while your legs squeeze at his waist and your needy, trembling walls clench around his hard dick that he rams you onto with his hands... He could dance to this. 

 

“Ah—! Shoyo— Sho…” You struggle to keep your voice down as you call his name and spill out how good it feels in Portuguese — one of Hinata’s favorite tells that you’re about to come. 

 

“You feel so good, [Name]. You’re always so tight…” He encourages you with some praise of his own, urging you to come with him. He feels it coming, so he holds you against the wall with his chest and an arm underneath your ass, while his free hand comes to swab at your clit to guide you in time with his own peak. 

 

“Shoyo… Shoyo…” You continue to whine as he brings you closer and closer, but he seals your voice away with his lips on yours as he finishes inside you, your shaking walls milking him in long, smooth ribbons for the better part of a minute. 

 

He breathes heavily against you as the pulsing from both your bodies eventually calms and stops, then he gently lets you down to your feet. You’re an absolute mess, with wrinkles all over your yukata, your hair mussed up, your lips swollen, marks forming all over your chest and collar, and a mixture of his and your cum slowly leaking down your thighs. And he can’t think of a single thing that he finds more beautiful than this. 

 

He has to kiss you. There is no way that he could see you standing before him like this and not kiss you silly. He only wishes that he could do it for longer, in more privacy. He has half a mind to rent out his own room at the inn tonight just to spend a few more hours with you before your morning departure. 

 

But you eventually pull away, giggling as he pouts and tries to kiss you again. “I love you,” you say, cuddling into his chest with your arms around his waist. Then you lift your head to give him a sweet peck, “I’ll come back to see you soon.” 

 

“Okay…” He whispers, holding onto you as the air grows fragile again. Strange, how you’re right here in his arms and he misses you already. 

 

You take a few more minutes with each other before you proclaim your need for another bath. So after wrapping you back up in your yukata, Hinata walks you back to the front of the inn and waits until you’re inside to call for a cab. 

 

The entire ride home, he can’t stop smiling. 




*




“Are you ready?” 

 

“Yes! I’ve been waiting all week!” Hinata sits up excitedly as you pull up the video of your team’s performance that was uploaded by the organization that hosted the regional dance competition. 

 

“Me, too!” Bokuto exclaims from his seat on the floor, “Even though I already watched the stream when it was live after practice that day. It was so cool!” 

 

“At least somebody did.” You make a humorous jab, but Hinata still feels the guilt all the same. 

 

“I watched it too, actually.” Sakusa pipes up from his spot leaning against Hinata’s living room wall. “It was playing on TV when I got home that day.” 

 

“You’re kidding. Am I the only one who still hasn’t watched it?!” Hinata gawks. 

 

“‘Fraid so, Shoyo-kun.” Atsumu says from the floor across Bokuto, “I watched the video yesterday.” 

 

“Ehh? Really? Wow, you’re the worst boyfriend ever, Hinata!” Bokuto laughs. 

 

Hinata makes a noise of shocked protest, but you just pat his shoulder as you click play, “It’s okay, I already slapped him once for it.” You plop down beside him on the couch, then lean in to kiss his cheek apologetically, “Even though I shouldn’t have.” 

 

“No, you definitely should have.” Atsumu says, “He might not have woken up otherwise.” 

 

“Seconded.” Sakusa agrees, to which Hinata shouts while Bokuto and you laugh. 

 

But all that is forgotten as the performance starts. Hinata’s focus is completely zeroed in on your team’s formation, and eventually to your lone figure that stands in the middle with two others — the other group leaders. Your team is split into three main groups, but somehow, you all move around and together as one entity, creating a sense of unity even amidst the separation. 

 

Even as a novice, he can tell that each group focuses on a specific genre and showcases them when it’s their turn to perform up front. And when your group is up, the moves become a little more artsy and freeform — reflective of the jazz music you selected for the dance. And then, you’re up center, with another male dancer and two other couples that mirror your moves behind you — strategically placed so that they can dance among the other members but still stand out. 

 

And it’s only for a few seconds, but Hinata recognizes the several Forró sequences you use to transition into the next segment of choreography. He had danced it with you countless times, but watching it from the audience, seeing you perform with a partner capable of displaying how beautiful the dance actually is, Hinata now realizes that your talent is leagues beyond what he imagined. 

 

You dance through the air like you’re moving through water, surfing through the tide your team creates like the waves you used to ride on the beach. He’s almost embarrassed that you settled for a dance partner as clumsy as him, even if it was just for fun. And as he continues watching you weave in and out of the other dancers for the rest of the performance, he’s hit with different feelings that overlap one another. 

 

He’s proud of you for putting together such an incredible performance with your team, which he knows is only partially talent, and the rest is all hard work. And he’s upset that he missed out on watching the performance live like he — and you — originally intended, and then he’s hit with another wave of guilt shortly after. Only to be rerouted to awe as he watches your team pull off another impressive dance combination. 

 

It ends on a beautiful note, with all the members of your team posing together like a moving sculpture — returning to the theme of unity with your dancers. Hinata can’t help but clap as he stares on in awe, already trying to relive the performance in his head. 

 

When he’s conscious of the room again, he sees everyone chuckling or looking at him with amusement, like they were there just to see him live-react to the performance rather than watch the performance itself. But when he turns to see the expectant look on your face, it all just starts spilling out of him. 

 

“Oh man! That was so amazing! I can’t believe you led a dance group like that! I can’t believe you helped create that performance! How many hours did you all even practice to dance in such synchronization?! It was like—” He babbles on and on and you answer the few questions he has between his comments, but he has to interrupt himself because he isn’t even done. “Let’s watch it again!” He clicks the replay button. 

 

He ends up rewatching the video several more times, and while he’s caught up in the magic of your dance team, the conversation around him has gone elsewhere. At some point, when Hinata eventually zones back into the room, he finds that you’re no longer on the couch with him and you’ve moved to the kitchen area. 

 

Since his other teammates are busy with their own conversations — either on their phones or with each other — he decides to join you as you’re brewing a pot of tea. You look up to smile at him briefly when he slides an arm around your waist before returning to your task. “Did you finally finish watching?” 

 

“Oh, definitely not. I’m totally going to watch it a few more times tonight.” He answers, “I can’t believe I have such a cool girlfriend…” 

 

You just hum in response, but Hinata can see the secret little smile you have on — you still do that every time he calls you his girlfriend. He finds it to be the most adorable thing. As you pour the freshly brewed tea, he helps you serve it to his friends before returning to take one for himself. 

 

As he sips away with you in a private little huddle by the kitchen counter, he takes a moment to say, “I’m definitely gonna see it in person next time.” 

 

“Oh yeah? And what if another Ivan Sharov swings by?” You smile challengingly. 

 

“Oh man, that’s a tough one.” He jokes, and traps you in his arms when you pout and smack his chest. “Guess I’ll have to avoid traffic then.” 

 

You scoff and try to pull away again, muttering, “Estúpido,” before letting him bring you in for a kiss anyway. And since no one is watching or protesting, he brings you in for another. Somehow, kissing you feels like he slows down time, like the milliseconds he can see a block midair. But it’s something he shares with you and only you. 

 

Not much has changed with how he and you act around each other. He still saves his affection for more quiet, private moments like this, usually away from the others. But sometimes, times like these, he needs to slow down time just to spend it with you for a little longer. To appreciate you just a little more. He’s still learning how to each and every day. 

 

And as always, you’re patient with him. 

Notes:

there's a lot of fitting songs for this fic, but it always puts me in a bit of an austin mahone mood (mostly the lyrics, not the cheesy mv)

and i'll be back with a lil extra sumn sumn for a few outtakes from this fic. so if you're here early and don't see the link yet, just refresh the page and it should be right here in this end note.

 

EDIT: i'm back with the extra scenes! exclusively on tumblr bc i don't feel like making a separate ao3 thread for it lol. follow me on tumblr through that link and on twitter where i occasionally ramble about writing. god bless hinata shoyo <3

Chapter 18: Hinata Shoyo/Miya Atsumu - Love Unlimited

Summary:

Well this is an awkward way to find out about your boyfriend's boyfriend.

 

In honor of, "One day, I'm gonna set for you."

Notes:

did you become an atsuhina simp by seeing a bunch of fanart or are you normal?

as i'm sure you can tell, this is a bit of a small deviation from the usual. today i bring you about 11k of smut and with my hq otp of choice. but i'll be honest with you guys, i'm just not built for threesomes. they all end up feeling like cheesy pornos, which is how this one also turned out. but you can't tell me that atsumu pining for hinata for seven years doesn't Hit

this was quite the experiment for me, so maybe it will be for you too bc you/the reader are not the center of this piece, hinata is. it is what he deserves and i will make no apologies. so if you're coming along for the ride, buckle up and have your wine glasses ready

 

EDIT: it slipped my mind to add this warning earlier bc i sincerely wrote this in good fun for the character interaction/dynamics, but there is cheating involved in this. if you're at all wary about this theme, proceed with caution if at all. like i mentioned, this is fairly different from what i usually post here, so the ride may not be what you expect it to be

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Sometimes you wonder if your boyfriend truly realizes how popular he is. Sure, Hinata isn’t the most attention-catching player among all the powerful, volleyball giants he plays with, but his presence is unmatched once he’s on the court. Not to mention, the effect he has on others has always brought about small changes to the whole game or how people saw it. It sure did for you. 

 

Hinata still wasn’t always super popular in the sense that he had girls screaming over him like that one guy who was on the track team back in high school, but you could tell that his energy simply drew people to him. Heck, you couldn’t even resist it yourself and started talking to him more during the breaks between classes after the volleyball club made it to nationals in first year. 

 

You had cheered him on with the rest of the school at the final prefectural tournament, and paid him some fair attention in the years following. Just seeing all the interactions he had with his team, as well as the opposing teams he played against, you could tell his presence would always spark a conversation. And the way those opponents’ eyes would linger on him as he left the court after they lost the game to Karasuno, Hinata had obviously struck several chords in them, maybe even inspired them. 

 

It was the same case even when he came back from Brazil. The people he played with and against on the court always got more fired up when Hinata was around to show them something flashy that he had learned during his time abroad. You weren’t even that versed in volleyball, but you could see how clearly amazing he was based not only on his plays, but also all the smiles on the court. 

 

At first, you thought it was riveting, like everyone on the court was thinking the same thing; ‘Hinata Shoyo has gotten really amazing.’ There was this wildness about their eyes and eager challenge in their smiles as they scored points off of each other. Everyone was always watching out for the newbie on the MSBY Black Jackals, and for good reason. But you also noticed how everyone would also pay him a little too much attention off court too. 

 

You didn’t see it as a big deal because he’s got so many friends in the volleyball sphere, and you can’t possibly understand all the nuances of his relationships with them. Maybe it was just a thing with athletes, where they get super touchy just to share encouragement and promote good teamwork. But sometimes you’d be a little puzzled at how they’d touch Hinata — your boyfriend — in public more than you would. 

 

After getting to know the team and becoming a bit more comfortable with them, you’d joke about how everyone was always “so gay for my boyfriend” and they’d laugh. Sometimes they’d even joke back about how they’d date Hinata in a heartbeat if you hadn’t already snatched him up. But sometimes… only very occasionally… you sensed some sort of deeper tension in the jokes. It was weird, but you brushed it off. They were jokes, after all. 

 

In retrospect, maybe you should have read a little deeper into the room at the time because one day, when you’re home earlier than expected from a short business trip out of town, you come home to find another pair of shoes at the door. Which wasn’t a big surprise, since you could see an extra MSBY duffel bag lying on the ground beside the shoe closet and figured Hinata just invited a teammate over to hang out. 

 

Though, when you said ‘hanging out’ in your head, you definitely had not imagined hearing breathless grunting coming from your shared bedroom. Now, like any other suspicious and worried partner, you approached the door quietly, peeping through the small crack in the door to see what the hell was going on inside that would involve all this moaning. Surely, it was just some sort of physical therapy? 

 

Alas, your hypothesis proves unlikely when you catch a peek of your boyfriend’s attractive, naked back facing the door. He’s lying on his side and he’s got a layer of sweat shining on his body, making his skin glisten and your tongue salivate just the slightest. That’s all good and familiar to you, and in any other case, you’d assume he was jerking off and pop in through the door saying something cheesy like, “Want some help with that?”  

 

This time, however, it seems he already has help. Towering above him on the foot of the bed is another well-built man, also shirtless, sweating, and breathing a little heavily. When you lean over to adjust your view within the thin door crack, you identify a familiar bleached blonde head and an even more familiar smug-looking side profile. But even if you hadn’t seen his face, you still would have found out who he was in the next few seconds because he bends down to leave a few kisses along Hinata’s jaw and neck, making him sigh out, “Ah… Atsumu-san…” 

 

“S’that feel nice, Shoyo-kun? Hm?” The blonde man teases, and that’s when you trail your eyes down the length of their (muscular) bodies to see that he’s got a few fingers buried in your boyfriend’s ass. 

 

There is way too much happening at once for you to properly use your brain, the thoughts all just flood in at once. On top of the fact that you just walked into your boyfriend cheating on you with a man , said man happens to be his teammate who he happens to have known since high school too. They have a history that you couldn’t possibly know of or maybe even understand, because judging by the way Atsumu touches Hinata, he knows what he’s doing, and he’s probably done it before. 

 

Miya Atsumu… you always had a weird dynamic with that guy. From the beginning, he seemed like your regular old passive-aggressive bully with insecurities that he hid behind sarcastic smiles and bad jokes. They were actually so bad that everyone took his equally bad personality in stride and clowned him right back. Everyone on the team was too confident in themselves to get roped into his little jabs, but with you, there always seemed to be a weird tension that you couldn’t describe. 

 

You were both cordial with one another, but while he would let down his angelic smile and show his true colors to others, he would always keep the polite mask on around you. Sometimes, it’d morph into more of a challenging tease of a smirk when he’d compete with you for Hinata’s attention at a dinner or party. 

 

He’d say things like, “If you’re too busy to go on a date with Shoyo-kun this week, I’d be more than happy to take him off your hands, [Name]-chan” or ask unrelated questions like, “Shoyo-kun, if ya had to choose between [Name]-chan’s miso soup or my tosses, what wouldja pick?” 

 

Now that you think about it, one time, you were just having a regular conversation with Hinata before Atsumu caught his attention with something else and in his excitement, your boyfriend had bounced right over. At the time you thought you had imagined catching the ghost of a smirk from the setter that may have been directed at you… 

 

If you read more into it, you could easily over analyze every interaction that’s happened between you three in order to figure out just how long this has been going on between them. Had Hinata started sleeping with Atsumu after he got together with you? Or possibly even before he got together with you?? God, you don’t even know what would be worse… But it’s clear that this is something that’s been kept secret for a while because they clearly thought that you’d still be out of town and decided to fuck on the bed you shared while you were gone. 

 

And the way that Hinata wraps an arm around Atsumu’s neck to bring him in for a longer kiss while he’s fingering your boyfriend’s ass, you can tell that this is something deeper than just fucking. You know just by looking at the way they hold each other, rut their hips together, exchange a few quiet moans and whispers. But Hinata did all that with you too… Did that mean that he was lying at all when he was with you? Or that maybe he didn’t love only you? 

 

There’s a thick density in the atmosphere between them, because even though the crack in the door is small, they’d still be able to see you if they just paid attention. But clearly, they’re so wrapped up in one another that they don’t even notice you moving about. Actually, to your chagrin, even you barely remember your own presence in the room. It’s only when you look down that you realize that you’ve got a hand pressed against the waistband of your jeans, like you were about to go lower… 

 

God, this should be so wrong and gross, watching your sweet, beloved Hinata get fingerfucked by his admittedly attractive teammate. And yet, you can’t look away. Your feet are stapled to the ground and your mouth is clenched together by your teeth digging into your bottom lip. You should really go in there, barge in and demand to know what’s going on, figure out if you need to break up with your boyfriend or not. But if all of that is going to happen anyway, then maybe you could at least watch the rest of the show? 

 

Not that this is a show that’s meant to be watched like entertainment, but you really are so curious to see how far they’re going to go when you’re supposed to be home in five or so hours. How prepared are they? How well do they know each other outside of volleyball? Is Atsumu… better at making love to Hinata than you are? 

 

You study every movement between them, watching as Atsumu props himself on one forearm by Hinata’s head and stares him in the eyes as he continues to curl his fingers inside your boyfriend’s ass below. You listen as he whispers to Hinata to touch him, and watch as Hinata does just that, taking Atsumu’s ( ahem, adequately sized) dick in his hands to stroke up and down in winding circles. Atsumu hums and rewards him with another kiss before inserting another finger, which makes Hinata make a cute little gasp. 

 

Their legs slot against each other and their chests brush against one another as Atsumu’s hand works your boyfriend open. “Shoyo-kun, you’re so pretty. Are you ready for me?” 

 

“Yes, Atsumu-san.” He says in his breathless little voice, god you loved it when it got like that. Atsumu must feel the same because he hums approvingly into another kiss before moving his hips to place his dick between Hinata’s legs. 

 

The way Hinata lifts his hips so easily and readily for Atsumu is astounding, like he can’t wait for it to be inside of him… You imagine it must be similar to how you feel when you’re waiting for Hinata to come inside of you after he’s teased you for a while. You have no idea how Atsumu managed to fit inside of Hinata, but he actually does disappear between Hinata’s legs in a rather smooth and swift motion. And the sound they make together when their moans harmonize sends a shockwave right to the center of your own legs. 

 

Why are you reacting to this?? You should not be reacting to this!! Especially when you see the way Atsumu rests his forehead against Hinata’s and they just… stare at each other for a while. They just stay like that for a few moments, likely waiting for Hinata to get used to Atsumu’s size, but the tension is so thick between them that you couldn’t swim through it if you tried. 

 

Then your sweet, sweet Hinata sighs and closes his eyes, and Atsumu releases a rather pained groan. You can make a guess as to what Hinata just did to the setter’s cock. “Fuck, Shoyo-kun, you’re so tight…” 

 

“Atsumu-san…” 

 

They kiss. “Can I move?” 

 

Hinata nods and hums, and in the next moment, Atsumu is bringing his hips back slowly, only to push himself right back in. They moan and whisper to one another as he continues his slow pace, before he starts picking it up little by little. Every half minute or so, Atsumu’s hips raise another level in velocity, and Hinata’s cries get louder and faster. Damn, you’ve never heard him make sounds like that before… 

 

“That’s it, Shoyo-kun, use your pretty little voice. I fuckin’ love it.” Atsumu growls, kissing at Hinata’s jaw. 

 

“A-Atsumu-san! Ah! Ah!” He cries out even more. 

 

“Yes, yes!” Atsumu’s hips get faster, and his hand wraps around Hinata’s leaking cock between their stomachs, “Fuck yes! Agh! I’m gonna come.” 

 

“M-Me too. Gonna come…” Hinata’s whining voice is not foreign to you, but it’s also nothing like this either. 

 

“That’s right, do it. Come for me.” Atsumu demands, “Tell me who you love.” 

 

“I-I…” 

 

That makes you freeze. Every part of your body clenches for what you’re about to hear next. 

 

“Go on, Shoyo-kun. Say it…” Atsumu encourages. Urges. 

 

“I— I love you, Atsumu-san!” He gasps into the ceiling, hugging Atsumu closer by the shoulders as the setter’s hips slam even faster. 

 

“Ah, is that so.” You finally find your voice, slamming the door open like a hammer to a glass wall, shattering the entire atmosphere. 

 

A few things happen in the next couple seconds; Hinata and Atsumu obviously stop what they’re doing, Atsumu is thrown off of Hinata with enough force to almost toss him off the bed, and Hinata’s face goes from blissed out in pleasure to absolutely torn with worry and guilt. You hate the sight of all of it, almost enough to regret having made such a dramatic entrance. Almost. 

 

“[Name]!” Hinata shouts, getting on his knees to sit on his calves in an obedient sitting position immediately, “You’re back early!” 

 

“And you’re fucking Miya Atsumu in our bedroom.” You retort as the aforementioned man sits on the bed rather casually for a guy who just got caught fucking someone else’s boyfriend. “Now that we’ve gotten the obvious out of the way, mind telling me what the fuck is going on here?!” 

 

“It’s— I— It’s not— Bu—” Hinata stutters for a few tries, but eventually he just starts bowing profusely and apologizing like he doesn’t know any other words. “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! I’m sorry!” 

 

“You’re sorry?” You repeat, “And just what the fuck are you sorry for, Shoyo? For cheating on me? For being careless enough to get caught? How long has this even been going on between you two?” You demand. 

 

Both boys are quiet, though while Hinata is looking down guiltily like he’s about to cry, Atsumu looks infuriatingly unbothered, like he’s thinking about what he’s going to have for dinner later or something. “I asked. How long.” You repeat. 

 

“For a while now,” Atsumu shrugs when Hinata doesn’t answer for another few beats. 

 

“A while…” Your mind races trying to do the math for when you started dating Hinata and when he joined the Black Jackals, “Before or after we got together, Shoyo?” 

 

“I-It was just once! Before we got together.” Hinata confesses, finally looking up. “I never planned to do this again after that but…” 

 

“So how many fucking times have you done this while we were together then?!” You shriek. You can’t help it. This is all just starting to sink in that your sweet, loving, inspiring boyfriend has been lying to you and cheating on you. Probably for months

 

“A-A few times…” 

 

You close your eyes to take in a deep breath to try and calm yourself. But obviously, it doesn’t work because you’re shouting again in the next breath, “What is the meaning for all of this then?! Shoyo, are you… are you gay? Have you been using me? As your… as your fucking beard or something??” 

 

“No! No, [Name] it’s not like that at all!” Hinata protests immediately, jumping off the bed to his feet to approach you, “I love you. I have never lied to you about that. I really do love you with my whole heart.” 

 

He tries to reach out for your hand but you slap him away, “No. Don’t touch me. You do not get to touch me.” You scowl, and Hinata’s hurt expression actually clenches painfully at your heart even though you didn't do anything wrong here! “Why don’t you let him touch you? Since he’s obviously so good at touching you that you feel the need to bring him into our bed behind my back.” You scoff, glaring at Atsumu over Hinata’s shoulder. 

 

“Well, ya ain’t wrong about that.” Atsumu has the nerve to chuckle before Hinata can form another sentence. Asshole. 

 

“Shut the fuck up, dickhead.” You spit at him, “I cannot believe this entire time you were getting all competitive with me when you were actually out here fucking my boyfriend. All your stupid jokes were actually just you rubbing it in my face, weren’t they?” 

 

He doesn’t respond but his smirk confirms it all. You almost rush at him, but Hinata gets between you by holding you by the arms, “[Name], wait. Please.” 

 

“And you!” You turn your attention back to Hinata, “How long were you going to keep doing this behind my back? Fuck it with away games, you were bringing this asshole into our bed. I cannot believe you.” 

 

“I’m really so, so sorry.” He bows again, which brings your attention back to the fact that he is still very much naked. And before you can stop your curious eyes, you notice that unlike Hinata, Atsumu is still hard and standing tall against his stomach. You can’t fight the urge to grimace at him, and the fucker actually smirks back!! But your attention returns to your boyfriend when he stands back up, “But please, believe me when I say I really do love you. I always have.” 

 

“But what? You wish I had a dick too?” You scoff, crossing your arms. 

 

“No! That’s really not it! I just— agh!” He groans, grabbing at his bright, orange hair. Sweaty and disheveled. “I don’t know how to explain it properly…” 

 

“He ain’t lyin’, ya know.” Atsumu decides to pipe in at that moment, and you look back at him where he’s now leaning back on one hand, still no less casual than he was earlier, “The reason we always fuck here is ‘cause Shoyo-kun likes bein’ around yer smell.” 

 

You raise an eyebrow at that, “The hell is that supposed to mean?” 

 

“Are ya dumb? Means that the guy misses you.” Atsumu scoffs, though you can sense an underlying hardness in his eyes beneath that smirk on his face. “Trust me, with the way he brings yer clothes with him to away games, there ain’t no doubt that he’s in love with ya.” 

 

You turn back to Hinata, who now looks embarrassed on top of his guilt, which must mean that it’s true. And come to think of it, you do recall instances in which you weren’t able to find a certain shirt every so often but it would reappear somewhere within a few days anyway when Hinata was back home. 

 

You let out an exasperated sigh before uncrossing your arms to place on your hips instead, “Well even so, if you really do love me, you still cheated on me! With this motherfucker!” You jut your arm out at Atsumu, who is now leaning against the headboard and still looking relaxed as hell while naked in your bedroom. “Why him?! What’s so great about this guy that you’d choose him of all people to cheat on me with?” 

 

“W-Well… the thing is…” Hinata stutters again, struggling to look you in the eye, “I kinda… love him too.” 

 

In the background, you can see Atsumu’s smile shift just a little, subtle but enough to show that he’s actually quite happy to have heard that. Which is all great and dandy for him but you’re stuck repeating after your boyfriend, “You… love him. Too.” 

 

“Yeah…” He clasps his hands together nervously, looking sheepish but completely honest. 

 

“So this isn’t just a sex thing that I can’t compensate for because I don’t have a dick. You actually… love him. Like, really love him.” You try to understand. But this is fucking weird to wrap your head around. 

 

“Yes.” Hinata confirms, and in the back, Atsumu’s smile only gets wider. And dare you say, more genuine. “I actually do love Atsumu-san… the same way I love you. And… I’ve felt this way for a while, about both of you.” He makes a slow reach for your hand, and you let him hold it, though you don’t give him much of a response when he touches you. “Eventually, I chose you, and I thought after a while, my feelings for Atsumu-san would fade away. But…” He glances over at the setter and they seem to share a secret, but evidently fond look with one another. 

 

Hinata breathes another sigh when he turns back to you, “Just don’t blame him, [Name]. This is my fault. I got selfish and I betrayed your trust because I wanted both of you, but I know it’s not right. Just please don’t doubt the fact that I love you, and don’t blame Atsumu-san when I’m the one who let things continue between us like this.” 

 

You take a few moments to think about what he’s saying, looking between him and Atsumu and your hand that he’s still holding. This is beyond complicated and you almost wish you were back behind the crack of the door watching them fuck and cuddle again. Though as you replay it in your mind, it was clear that what you saw wasn’t just meaningless sex. There was tenderness behind every movement, a natural rhythm built from time and effort put into learning about each other’s bodies. Which just makes it all the harder for you to come to some sort of decision. 

 

“So what do you want me to do then, Shoyo?” You finally say, “If you still love him, you obviously won’t be able to stop seeing him. He’s your freaking teammate. You said you chose me, but… you still also chose him.” 

 

Hinata doesn’t seem to have an answer either. Seeing the pain in his face, you almost feel cruel for making him choose. Though as you think between the options, you have to wonder, “Why him, anyway? You have so many other cooler teammates than fuckin’ Miya Atsumu.” You respect all the Black Jackals equally, but you did want to get a jab in at Atsumu just because. 

 

“That’s a low blow, [Name]-chan. And the answer should be obvious anyway.” Atsumu says, finally getting up from the bed and walking over to stand beside Hinata with an arm around his waist, “Not everyone is capable of giving Shoyo-kun exactly what he wants, whether it be a speedy toss, or a tremendous dicking.” His irritating smirk is back, and he has the gall to lift your chin up, as if to make you look even closer, “Not as good as me.” 

 

“Don’t fucking touch me.” You smack his hand away, staring him down, “You’re not my boyfriend.” 

 

“Well, I am kinda yer boyfriend’s boyfriend.” He looks down his nose at you, smug as ever even though Hinata is stuttering on the side about that statement. “But I know he still likes ya, so I at least have the guts to let him be happy.” 

 

The audacity. He’s talking as if you were the affair Hinata was keeping a secret. You want to slap him! You almost do, but Hinata catches your arm before it can reach the setter’s pretty face. “Fuck you, pretty boy.” You yank your hand out of Hinata’s, but don’t try to slap him again. “You’re acting quite high and mighty for someone who’s just a side piece. I can’t send him any freak tosses, but he still chose me.” You smirk back at him, actually trying to hurt him a bit, even though you know he won’t take it to heart, “And I doubt it’s because I can’t give him a good dicking.” 

 

Now Hinata is stuttering out your name in embarrassment as you and Atsumu continue to go at each other. “Oh I’m sure. Is that why ya stayed outside to watch for so long before bargin’ in? ‘Cause ya were sooo confident that ya could fuck Shoyo-kun as good as me?” Atsumu smirks down at you, and that actually makes your face drop. He had noticed you after all?? “Or were ya just waitin’ on the perfect cue to make a dramatic entrance?” 

 

“I wasn’t watching!” You lie. Straight up. 

 

“Eh?” Hinata’s curious voice pauses as he stares between you and Atsumu, clearly realizing your ruse even if he hadn’t noticed you before. 

 

“Sure ya weren’t.” Atsumu will not be deterred. “Just like I’m sure ya aren’t soaked like a sponge right now underneath those jeans.” 

 

You gasp at the accusation — which is unfortunately true; you have been wet since you were outside the door. “I don’t have anything to prove to you, fuckwad! The only reason I haven’t thrown your ass out the window already is because Shoyo says he loves you, so you better thank your lucky stars I haven’t chopped off that dick he seems to like so much.” 

 

“Uhm… [Name]...” 

 

Atsumu chuckles, “Why don’tcha take a ride for yerself? See what’s got Shoyo-kun always comin’ back for more.” 

 

“Atsumu-san, maybe it’d be best if you didn’t—” 

 

You scoff, “Ha! In your fucking dreams. I bet you’d love to see how good I ride. In fact,” you whip your head away and strut over the two steps it takes to reach your boyfriend and pull him forward by the shoulders before addressing Atsumu one last time, “Why don’t you sit back and watch this time?” 

 

“[N-Na—] Mmph!” Hinata’s body stiffens when you suddenly slam your lips into his. It’s an expected reaction, considering the tension that just grew and tangled up like a forest of vines between you all in the past five minutes. But as you slide your fingers slowly down his chest, along his sides, down to his hips, he opens up to you. 

 

You love Hinata. You love everything about him. You may have loved him since high school, when you’d just watch a little ball of orange flit around on the court and occasionally sleep in class. And when he finally accepted your feelings, you always went out of your way to show him how much you loved him, whether it was in the stands, at home, or in your bed. Especially in your bed. You would always take your time and tease him until he was either begging you or demanding you of something. 

 

Right now, you still kiss and touch Hinata with every intention to love him. However, you also do it to prove to Miya fucking Atsumu that you’re better at it. Nudging your boyfriend to sit on the edge of the bed, you continue to kiss him as your hands move about his body, going to the more sensitive spots right away instead of teasing around them first like usual. He breaks away from your lips in a whiny gasp when you scratch lightly at the side of his pectoral, so you move down to kiss at a spot on his jaw. “[N-Name]...” he trembles, “Wait, th-this is—! Atsumu-san…” 

 

“Atsumu-san what?” You pull away but keep your face close to Hinata’s, your body very aware of Atsumu still standing by the foot of the bed, watching. “You want him to do this instead of me?” You pout, coming down to your knees and holding his dick up against your chest to rest right between your clothed breasts. “Is he better than me at this?” 

 

“No! That’s not it.” Hinata protests.

 

“Oh, it’s not, Shoyo-kun?” Atsumu pipes in, pretending to sound offended, but you can hear the clear smirk on his face without needing to look. And as Hinata tries to repair the hasty response he just made back to Atsumu, you move in to kiss his throat, right in center. It’s a simple but effectively intimate display that you’re sure will both make Hinata falter and incite a reaction beyond sarcasm out of Atsumu. To your prediction and delight, your boyfriend’s surprised gasp silences the room. 

 

You continue to stroke his dick in your hand languidly as you move down from his throat to kiss at the center of his collarbones, then his chest. From there, you drift to the side to latch a nipple into your mouth. Hinata’s body visibly shivers and you feel his dick twitch in your hand, prompting you to squeeze it a bit in a stroke up while your teeth bite gently around the hardened bud. You take a moment to look up at him with puppy dog eyes that beg for his attention and you hum in delight when he cups your face to bring you up for a fervent kiss. 

 

You whine loudly and more dramatically than usual, pressing yourself ever closer to Hinata’s chest as he works your mouth open with his. There’s no mistake that there’s a new taste to him though. One that you haven’t tried before, but you’re certain belongs to that snobby setter still standing in the room. But you ignore it because you know Hinata is in your zone now. He was never great at resisting your pouty face. 

 

And another thing he isn’t great at resisting… 

 

You pull away with a small smirk meant for yourself and indirectly for Atsumu, but Hinata sees it and he bites his lip as he watches you sink down to your calves as you bring your mouth close to his groin. This, you can take your time with. Even with something to prove, your favorite part of giving Hinata head is how expressive he is — and it always gets better when you tease him. 

 

You start with a light kiss and barely half a suck at his tip before moving down to kiss his lower stomach and thighs. Though you usually leave hickeys around his collar and chest, you don’t mind putting a few bites on his thick thighs this time. Hinata seems on board with it too, considering how he just continues to pant as he watches you suck at his skin as you stroke his dick in your palm. “[N-Name]...” 

 

“Yes, baby?” You ask with a kiss to his tip again, before laying it flat on your tongue. 

 

“P-Please…” He says, carding his fingers into your hair and grabbing a light hold. And you know you need inquire no further. 

 

Your tongue flicks off the top of his dick and you smile demurely, “Of course.” And in the next second, he’s in your mouth, his length disappearing from sight as it approaches your throat. You drag your lips back to the tip once, and suck your way back down like you’re branding rings on his skin. His moan is shaky and his fingers grow tighter in your hair, just how you like it. 

 

Usually, when you start to bob your head down on him, he lets you go at your own pace, speeding up and slowing down at your leisure and giving you full control of his orgasm. But this time, he’s keen to pick up the pace by pressing you down deeper, until his tip is almost lodged in your throat. “Baby, a little faster…” He pleads. And who are you to refuse him? 

 

So you bob down faster, hollowing your cheeks out so he’s completely surrounded by your mouth and hissing in pleasure. One hand moves down to unbutton the top of your shirt and drag it off your shoulders, and the bra straps with it. You love how he just strokes lovingly at your skin with one hand while the other is holding tightly to your hair as you suck him off. When his panting grows quicker, you start humming around his cock to bring him closer, ready to swallow all of him down. 

 

Hinata, however, seems to have other plans. He all but yanks you off of his dick just before he’s about to finish, which impresses you. And then he drags you up and into his lap, locking your knees down on the mattress by his hips and pressing his hot shaft against your stomach as he kisses you. You giggle into his mouth as you kiss him back, loving how eager he is to show Atsumu how much he wants you. 

 

He unbuttons the rest of your shirt and drags it off your arms to drop to the floor, and peppers kisses all over your chest as he unhooks your bra. Soon, you’re topless and hugging Hinata’s head against your chest when he sucks a nipple into his mouth. You cock your head over to glance at Atsumu to see what he’s up to, and to your amusement, he’s just standing there, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed and his cock still very hard. 

 

The setter has clearly been watching this entire time, and refraining from touching himself out of pride or whatever it might be, but you can tell by his dazed expression that he’s hypnotized. Heck, who wouldn’t be if they were openly invited — challenged — to stay and watch the man they loved be loved on? Even if it was painful to watch like a car crash, it’s altogether impossible to look away. 

 

But he catches your gaze, and that’s when he tries to snap back into his cocky mask. He can’t fool you though, not when you see that long cock of his practically jumping at the sight of Hinata working his hands into your pants. Your boyfriend only unbuttons and unzips your jeans before slipping his hand underneath your panties to rub at your sopping folds. He sucks in a breath when he touches them, “Damn… you really are soaked…” He murmurs. 

 

“‘Cause I want you so bad…” you pout, rolling your hips against his hand. Without another word, he comes in for a kiss, hungry and pleading as his fingers glide right in to the knuckle without resistance. He shivers as he works you open, and you love it. 

 

When he gets a thumb on your clit, however, you know he’s not playing around. He wants you to come , and fast. Soon, you’re smashing his face into your breasts as you ride his fingers into your peak, gasping his name and crying for him to go faster and deeper. “Baby, wait… I want— ah! I want you inside me…” You whine as he keeps fingerfucking you. 

 

It’s inevitable, you realize, when Hinata surprises you and whispers into your ear, “Come for me. Come for me, right in front of Atsumu-san.” Your heart almost stops at the request and your hips falter against his hand, but Hinata brings you right where he wants you with his thumb and drives you right into your peak. 

 

You scream in both surprise and at the pure intensity of his fingers on you. It’s enough to make you fall forward and bring Hinata down on his back against the bed, your walls still pulsing around his drenched fingers. Yet he wastes no time to drag your jeans and panties down your thighs and help you kick them off, because he wants you back on his lap right away. 

 

“Shoyo…” you gasp, looking down at him with genuine surprise, still reeling from that comment he made earlier. He smiles so sweetly up at you, you’re compelled to believe you had just imagined it. You turn over to look at Atsumu, whose gaze is surprisingly zeroed in on your naked ass sitting on Hinata’s hips until you ask, “Did you hear what he said at first?” 

 

His eyes snap back up to your face, as if he hadn’t been doing anything out of the ordinary, “What?” 

 

So he didn’t. He was probably busy mentally jerking off to the sight of you coming by Hinata’s hand, and it’s not like he had said it above a whisper anyway. But he had definitely said that, right? It wasn’t just some sort of fever dream? 

 

You look down once more to gauge Hinata’s expression, but the room suddenly spins a revolution more than you expected and only when you’re on your back with your boyfriend hovering above you do you realize he’s shifted your positions. He leans down to kiss you sweetly before looking into your eyes, “I’m really sorry I hid this from you. I love you so much. I would never want to hurt you, or lose you.” His hard cock presses flat against the line of your slit and somehow feels like a cheeky and almost manipulative element to his apology, “Can you ever forgive me for being so selfish?” 

 

Anyone on this planet who can find the strength to resist those big, beautiful eyes mustn’t be human. How the hell are you supposed to ever say no to him with that puppy dog look on his face? Never mind the fact that he’s starting to touch your chest in time with his balls rubbing up along your lower lips. 

 

“Ugh, Shoyo…” you groan, needing to physically block the sight of him out of your eyes by bringing your hands to your face.

 

“Baby?” He murmurs back, leaning in to kiss the backs of your hands. Your heart jumps at the sweet affection and you slowly move your fingers aside to peek through the gaps when he peppers another kiss at your wrists. But you should’ve been prepared for him to come right back up and leave a kiss above your eye now that you’ve left the smallest opening. He’s always good at finding those. 

 

When you finally move your hands away from your face to reveal an uneasy pout behind them, he kisses it right off. It’s kind of hilarious how you were working so hard to get a reaction out of him and Atsumu and yet you’ve suddenly become the baby once he’s gotten on top. “I’ll think about it.” You will make no promises when he’s using his dick as leverage. 

 

“Okay…” he whispers back, kissing you again before moving down to kiss the side of your neck. This leaves your eyes completely free to glance over at Atsumu who’s watching with a mixture of intensity and longing at the two of you. You catch his eye just as Hinata slinks up to your ear to say, “I’m gonna fuck you right in front of Atsumu-san. Is that okay?” 

 

What is it about that question that shoots nerves up your spine and makes your walls start fluttering in anticipation? Your bottom lip gets trapped between your teeth when you hear it and Atsumu notices your change in demeanor. He raises his eyebrows curiously at you, but you don’t have the sense about you to retort because Hinata is moving his hips to bring his newly hardened dick right into your entrance. 

 

You gasp at the insertion, despite how slow it is, simply because you haven’t had him in a good week or so. Though when you had been fantasizing about the moment you’d have your boyfriend’s body reunited with yours, you certainly hadn’t anticipated an extra pair eyes openly ogling in the room. “O-Oh… Shoyo.” You whine, grasping him by the shoulders. 

 

The scoff you hear from Atsumu’s corner kind of ruins the moment but also kind of drives you further. He can roll his eyes all he wants, but you’re the one getting fucked by Hinata right now. And you’ll let him know it. “Do you love me?” you look into his eyes as you ask. 

 

“I do.” He kisses you, “I love you.” 

 

“Then show me how much.” You tilt your chin down just a bit so he might feel like he’s looking at you from a higher vantage point, so he’ll want to dominate you. You want to ignite the competitive and hungry side of him that you know translates over from volleyball. “Show him how much you love me.” 

 

He gasps and you only get a fraction of a second to see his eyes change into a darker brown than usual before he crashes into your mouth again. You moan as he kisses you as ferociously as his hips begin to move against you. It’s a much faster starting pace than you’re used to, but you certainly won’t be showing any sign that you can’t take it. 

 

“Shoyo!” you cry out, begging for him to go harder, deeper, to do more. You squeal in delight when he brings one of your legs up to press between your chests, hitting you at an angle that stupefies you. 

 

Hinata kisses your inner knee, and then up your calf, and even reaches up to your ankle before bringing your other leg up against his shoulder to press twinning kisses there too. He leans in, stretching your spine out until your lower back no longer touches the bed even when he’s still thrusting inside you. “I love you, [Name]. I’m gonna make you come for me.” He promises. 

 

You’d like absolutely nothing more. So you hold yourself to reality by clutching to Hinata’s strong forearms that wrap around the tops of your thighs and focusing on the slide of his sweet, perfect dick that continues to hammer into you. “Oh! Please, yes.” You gasp, “I’m— I’m almost there…” 

 

Hinata breathes heavily against the backs of your legs and keeps himself close to you, still leaving kisses and bites all over you as he experiments with the pace to keep your peak coming and going. It’s driving you insane. Yet still, not as insane as—

 

“Then I hope you don’t mind if I cut in.” 

 

That fucking guy again. You were enjoying yourself so much that you almost forgot that he was still here. But now that his face is full frontal and right above you behind Hinata, something flares in your core and makes your scowl. “Uhm, I would very much mind.” You interject. 

 

“Hmm, guess that’s too bad, sweetie.” Atsumu looks down with a focused smirk, and though you can’t see what he’s doing, Hinata’s gasp and anticipating face gives away what’s happening backstage. And when he groans deep and long into your neck, leaving you with only the view of Atsumu’s smirking face and naked body, you can see that he’s just as much connected to Hinata as you are right now. “But it’s okay, you can enjoy the dance too.” 

 

“Fuck you— Ah!” You shout when Hinata’s hips jut into you, sending his dick deeper into you than it already was. But the sort of muffled strength and helpless moans coming from Hinata translate clearly that it wasn’t him who had done that. “Oh my fucking god, are you serio— Agh!” 

 

He did it again. He’s doing it again. Atsumu is pulling his hips back slowly and slamming it right back into Hinata, and in turn, his force sends your boyfriend further into your walls. And the way his condescending eyes are focused on you, you can tell that he’s not just doing it so he can get back into Hinata’s guts for himself. Miya Atsumu is fucking your boyfriend into you.  

 

“Gotta say, Shoyo-kun, I can see why ya like this view so much.” The fuckhead smirks down at you, “The soundtrack ain’t too bad either. If she could get it through her pretty little head that ya want me just as much, ungh—“ he pauses to roll a deeper rut into Hinata’s hips, making him cry out in a voice that unmistakably made your walls twitch around him, “—maybe I could get on board.” 

 

“Shut the fuck up, stupid pretty boy.” You spit up at the blonde homewrecker. If you weren’t so caught up in shock, disbelief, jealousy, and anger at the fact that this sneaky setter has crawled into your home, loved up on your boyfriend, lied to your face, acted all high and mighty about it, and is now starting a full-on threesome with you and said boyfriend (kinda) unsolicited, you might have paid more attention to Hinata’s gasp and the twitch of his cock inside of you. “I would do anything for Shoyo because I love him, but you? You can kiss my ass.” 

 

“Tempting, but I’ve already got a nice, sweet ass for the taking riiiight here.” He drawls, swirling his large palms around Hinata’s cheeks before spanking one of them, making him yelp against you. 

 

“Atsumu-san!” He gasps. 

 

“Ya love that, don’tcha, Shoyo-kun?” Atsumu chuckles, so deep in his throat that even you can feel it. Then he runs his hands up your boyfriend’s back and around the front of his neck to lift Hinata’s head up by the chin, two fingers rooted into his mouth. “Why don’tcha show her how much ya love it?” 

 

Atsumu’s eyes are absolutely drunk on power, on the pure satisfaction of throwing your words right back in your face, with solid, unwavering evidence nonetheless. Hinata’s face hides absolutely nothing; he looks unhinged, uncontrolled, and absolutely blissed out. You can see his tongue and shoulders trembling underneath Atsumu’s grip and feel his uneven breath fanning your face. And when Atsumu’s other hand comes down to smack at Hinata’s ass again, your boyfriend squeaks a bit before swallowing the noise around Atsumu’s fingers in his mouth. 

 

Wow, he really does love this… He really loves how Miya Atsumu makes him feel. He loves… Miya Atsumu. That much becomes clearer by the second as his body absolutely melts against all of the setter’s practiced and experienced touches and movements. As well as the way his cock only seems to grow hotter and stiffer wedged inside of you as Atsumu continues to spank and fuck him. 

 

And through you loathe to admit it… Hinata’s face is so erotically sweet and arousing that it makes you wetter too. Atsumu’s thrusts are harsher and deeper than what you had seen him do earlier behind the door, but it matches the competitive and arrogant look he gives you as well. Something tells you this isn’t really about just loving Hinata anymore — it’s about loving Hinata better

 

Well, two can play at that game. 

 

You haven’t lost yet. So you bring a hand up to caress Hinata’s face gently and bring his partial attention back to you. Taking one of his hands that were clutching at your legs, you bring it close to your own mouth to kiss at his fingertips. You watch carefully as he stares at you, looking more and more fucked out by the second as he whispers your name, then you ask, “Can I have a taste too?” 

 

He gasps when you bring your tongue out to guide two of his own digits into your mouth so you can close your lips around them and suck slowly. You close your eyes and let yourself get rather lost in the action, sliding your tongue around and hollowing your mouth around his rough fingers like you did his cock. When you slowly open your eyes again to look up at him — like you’re eager to please — you’re met with not one, but two awestruck faces looking down at you like you just showed them something life-changing. 

 

Actually, you don’t find yourself minding the attention much at all. Hinata’s reaction is always a treat, but getting Atsumu to shut up is an impressive feat that feels like an extra reward for outstanding performance. You much prefer him speechless. 

 

You drag your lips up slowly to pop off of Hinata’s fingers before bringing his hand up to kiss his palm, then his wrist, then bring his head down to kiss you again. Hinata moans against your lips and kisses you hard, giving you a lot of tongue to show you just how much he enjoyed the show. “[Name], you’re so sexy. I love you.” He breathes against your lips before swallowing them in his once more. 

 

That’s what you like to hear. So you bring your legs down to rest back on the bed, but keep yourself spread wide so Hinata can stay comfortable between your thighs, so you can wrap your arms around his neck and keep him close. It’s enough to get him to start rutting into you again, at his own pace. 

 

Though what Atsumu was doing sent you into space, you still very much love it when Hinata wants to be in control. And it seems that he’s not the only one, because as he pulls back every time he brings his hips away from you, he fucks himself closer to Atsumu. And the setter seems to enjoy the sight and feeling of Hinata sheathing himself onto his cock of his own accord. 

 

At some point, Hinata frees your mouth so he can nip at your jaw and neck while his breathing shortens, so you’re left to just stare at either the ceiling or Atsumu as he fucks to his own tune. No matter how he or you move in this situation, Hinata is the winner — when he’s not being hugged by your wet walls, he sinks right back onto a thick, filling cock behind him, and when he leaves that fat cock, he gets to fill up an eager pussy right in front. And while your nose still wrinkles at the sight of Miya Atsumu’s arrogant face, you do love how much Hinata seems to be enjoying himself. 

 

You fell in love with the boy because he found happiness so easily and in almost anything. His smile was bright enough to light up not just the volleyball world, but yours too. He’s always been like the sun, bringing warmth, light, inspiration, and a reliable reminder that there was always a new day. You knew even before you started going out with him that he inspired so many people, that he had so many people to inspire. Should it really be so surprising that someone else is in love with him and wants to give him everything?

 

He’s your sun, but just like the sun disappears every evening for you, it still shines bright and hot for someone else on another side of the world. Maybe Miya Atsumu is that other side. Maybe there are whole planets that adore and look up to him and want him just as much as you do. But still, he chose you… you and Atsumu. Maybe you two make up two parts of his world.

 

You think about all of this as he continues rutting sensually against both of you, meeting one as he leaves the other, and coming back for each of you once again. Tirelessly, endlessly, without hesitation. He wants the both of you, and though he acted like he chose one, he really didn’t. Couldn’t. 

 

And maybe, you think, he shouldn’t have to. He’s spent most of his life fighting against the odds to play a sport he absolutely loves with his heart and soul. If he wants to love more than one person with all of that too… who are you to stop him? 

 

So looking up at Miya Atsumu, that fucking cocky ass, big-mouthed, infuriatingly attractive sucker, for the first time tonight you give him a look of understanding. You blink slowly at him and wonder if he gets your message. He responds with a curious raised eyebrow, but doesn’t seem to read beyond your face. So you talk to him through the most fluent channel you can think of: Hinata Shoyo. 

 

“Shoyo?” You beckon for his attention in your most sultry, but delicate voice, holding his face in your hands. 

 

“[Name]...” he breathes, still entirely focused on milking pleasure from two sources, but slows down when he hears your tone. 

 

“I really, really love you.” You confess, putting as much heart into it as you can with another witness around. 

 

“I really love you, too.” He replies, kissing you sweetly, “So much.” 

 

“Okay.” You smile at him before tilting your head to look up at his blonde boyfriend, “What about you?”

 

“What?” He says. 

 

“Do you love Shoyo?” You ask. Demand. Because if he says or means anything other than yes, you will kick him the fuck out right now without letting him grab his clothes first. 

 

“Ya. Ah’course I do.” He scoffs, “I wouldn’t be sneaking around like his mistress if I didn’t love Shoyo-kun.” Despite the bitterness in his voice, you can tell he means it through the contrasting way he caresses Hinata’s sides as he says it.

 

“Fine, then.” You say, turning back to address Hinata, “And you? Do you love that piss-haired motherfucker?” 

 

“Yer fuckin’ nasty.” The piss-haired motherfucker scowls. 

 

Hinata looks nervous to answer you, but you wait patiently. Until he eventually exhales slowly, “Yes, I love him. I love Atsumu-san and I love you. Both. With all my heart.” He promises, kissing your cheek tenderly.

 

“Then I’ll forgive you. And your little boyfriend,” you sigh, “I guess you can keep him.”

 

“Wait, really?” Hinata blinks, wide-eyed and breathless, “You really mean that?”

 

“Yeah, but we can talk about it later. Why don’t you prove to me just what’s so great about him?” You challenge, entertaining a smirk at Atsumu this time. To which the snarky blondie pulls his hips back like a slingshot to swing right into Hinata’s ass — this time, meaning to send the force through him to you. 

 

He even leans down to bring his face close to yours, meeting your defiant and challenging eyes and sandwiching Hinata between your chest as he growls, “Watch and learn, sweet cheeks.” 

 

Then his insufferable, gloating, handsome face disappears into Hinata’s neck to bite into his skin, making your boyfriend cry out immediately. The way his throat vibrates against your skin makes you hum, carding your fingers through his hair. Your walls squeeze around Hinata’s dick when Atsumu starts leaving kisses across his back, somehow working in a strange, offbeat tandem as you compete with each other in pampering Hinata. 

 

“Does it feel good, babe?” You coo into Hinata’s ear, clenching around him every time Atsumu pushes him in deep.

 

“Y-Yes!” He gasps against your skin, “A-Amazing… so good…” he pants helplessly, and you have to say, you do quite like seeing this desperation coloring his face and body. 

 

“S’right, ‘cause I’m fuckin’ you so good, right Shoyo-kun?” Atsumu groans against his other ear as he ruts even deeper into Hinata from behind, making him groan back. 

 

“Ye— Yes—”

 

“It’s ‘cause you’re so deep inside of me, right Shoyo?” You interrupt, smirking at Atsumu when he lifts his head to narrow his eyes and scoff at you. 

 

“I— I—” Hinata pants.

 

“Betcha she feels tight around ya, huh?” Atsumu counters, “Well it ain’t nothin’ compared to how ya feel around me right now. Your tight little hole should barely be able to take all of me, but ya always do, huh Shoyo-kun? You’re always waiting for me to give you more. Innit that right?” 

 

“Atsumu-san— augh! I— yes, yes.” Hinata replies, his body jumping forward on top of you with every smack of Atsumu’s hips. He’s going faster, and Hinata is bouncing from the force and shaking you on top of the bed with you. But what really surprises you is how in his hazy, hypnotic, pleasured state, he looks at you — like he’s sharing another secret with you, that you both know that Atsumu will hear — when he says, “Atsumu-san is so big, and so deep… It feels amazing.” 

 

And for some reason, that gets your walls pulsing without your permission. And Shoyo knows. You can see a lazy smile forming through his unhinged, open-mouthed, merciless fucking from Atsumu. He can tell you’re reacting to the thought of how well Atsumu’s cock is fucking him, and he loves it. “And you’re so tight, [Name].” He adds for good measure, “I love having you with me like this. With me and Atsumu-san.” 

 

“S-Shoyo…!” You’re taken aback. Look at that face… What made you ever think that you could say no to him? 

 

“Do you like it too?” He hugs you by the shoulders as he asks, one hand climbing up to dig his fingers into your hair, the other moving down to flick at your clit, “Do you like seeing Atsumu-san fuck me like this?” 

 

“I—“ How are you supposed to answer? You wouldn’t automatically defer to the word ‘like’ to describe how you feel about this situation. But you can’t say that you ‘dislike’ it either, what with the way your boyfriend’s eyes roll back every time Atsumu hits him particularly deep. You definitely don’t hate seeing Hinata being spoiled, but to go as far to say you enjoy seeing him fucked by some snarky, arrogant, shameless punk might be reaching a bit far. 

 

“Yeah.” You say anyway. 

 

Why you say it, you can’t be certain. But you can’t lie that the way Atsumu’s rough thrusts that drive Hinata’s dick farther into you and his thumb down harder on your clit doesn’t have some sort of effect on the situation. Like hell you’re gonna admit that Miya Atsumu the boyfriend usurper has a hand in your pleasure, though. 

 

Even though you just did… 

 

But Hinata at least seems to enjoy your answer, and he moans into your mouth as he pushes his ass back into Atsumu’s hips, begging for more. From both sides. You hold up your end by letting your tongue wrestle around with your boyfriend’s and dragging your hands down along his sides to massage at his skin. And for good measure, you curve your fingers around the curve of his perky, muscular butt and help spread his cheeks further apart for Atsumu to tear into. 

 

You hear a smirk from above, as well as something that sounds like a cheeky comment, but you choose to ignore it in favor of relishing the pretty moans that vibrate against your throat. “Mmm, Sho…” you moan back, digging your fingers harder into his flesh, stretching him just a bit more. 

 

“I love you.” He pants desperately against your mouth, his hips now arching up to get to your hands as much as to get closer to Atsumu’s cock. “I love you, I love you. Please— Don’t stop.” 

 

“You want more?” You tease with a smile. 

 

“Relax princess, he was talkin’ to me.” Atsumu butts in, jamming up any potential retort you had with a quaking slam of his hips. 

 

You think it shatters something within Hinata, because his entire body trembles on top of you, but he doesn’t look troubled in the slightest. “Atsumu-san!” He cries. 

 

“What’s that, Shoyo-kun?” He asks, but his instigating and arrogant smirk is directed at you, “You want more of this big, fat, monster cock? Yeah?” 

 

Your lips spread across your teeth in a snarl, but before you can say anything, Hinata is moaning out again for him, “Yes! Please, Atsumu-san!” 

 

“You like my cock in ya that much, huh Shoyo-kun?” He’s still smirking at you, the bastard. If he wasn’t responsible for half of your boyfriend’s pleasure at the moment, — and maaaaaybe a small, small percentage of yours — then you’d like to punch his lights out. 

 

“Yes, I love it! I love it, Atsumu-san. I love you.” Hinata is panting hard, but he still has the strength to lift his head enough to turn his neck around to look at the setter. And thank god, that shuts the guy up. He gives Shoyo a look that’s equal parts love struck and lust driven that you want to see as pathetic but can unfortunately relate to on a deeply personal level. 

 

Honestly, if Hinata had just said that to you while looking at you in the position he’s in, you’d probably hyper drive your hips inside him too — much like the way Atsumu is doing right now. His strength seems to have multiplied because while you were taken by surprise before, now you’re utterly speechless with the way he steers Hinata right into the deepest parts of you. 

 

How is he doing that? His hands are mounted on the bed at your sides as he mercilessly pounds and presses Hinata and you deeper into the mattress and each other. Your head is starting to get hazy, your worlds are colliding, you’re not entirely sure where the sun is anymore in this instance. The only thing keeping you rooted to reality is Hinata’s voice that’s choking out moans even sloppier than yours. 

 

“Agh— Fuck, fuck!! S-So good, feels sooooo goo— agh!! A-Ah— Ah…” 

 

You can’t believe those noises are coming out of Hinata’s pretty mouth. Can’t believe how hoarse he’s getting outside of the court. This is the side that Atsumu brings out of him no matter the setting, that skill that he has that you don’t. Shit, you’d want it all too… 

 

It’s impossible to keep up with who comes first, though you hear warnings here and there. But you only scream as Hinata’s thumb and cock —with aid from Atsumu’s background strength— throw you into your peak and make you squeeze impossibly tight and uncontrollably around him. Your head is thrown back for the entirety of your orgasm so you can’t see how either of them are reacting to you, let alone think about if they’re reaching their own. 

 

But at some point, everyone’s breathing slows and evens out as you lie in your boneless dogpile. Having two pro athletes on top of you is quite a tough challenge, but Atsumu eventually pulls away first to clean up. Hinata gives you a few kisses before pulling out of you as well to roll over to lie beside you. He’s likely the most exhausted out of you three, having been barraged with affection from two sides. 

 

Atsumu seems used to the task of cleaning him up, seeing all the gentle strokes he makes as he uses a towel to wipe up the mess he left in your boyfriend. And after he cleans off most of the wetness from his cock too, he comes up to lean over Hinata for a few tender kisses. You want to say it makes you sick, but the affection between them is so clear that you can’t help but internally sigh in acceptance. 

 

“Can you help clean up [Name] too? I’m tired…” he pouts. 

 

You expect an indignant reaction of some sort, but to your surprise, the rude blondie simply says, “Sure,” before returning to prepare another towel. While you wait in your exhausted heap, you turn to meet eyes with Hinata and he just smiles at you as he takes your hand in his. He’s going to blind you one day with that smile of his. 

 

You barely even notice Atsumu return until he’s spreading your legs apart to catch the mix of cum spilling out of you with his fresh towel. Ah… so Hinata came inside you. You had barely registered that fact in the moment because you had been so focused on your own orgasm. 

 

“Hmm…” You hear Atsumu hum before you feel a warm, wet muscle dig right between your slick lips, sending a zap of lightning through every connected nerve in your body. 

 

“Ah!” You squeak, sitting upright and smacking him away. His tongue… is much bigger than Hinata’s… “What the fuck, you bastard!” 

 

“Sorry, just wanted to see what Shoyo-kun tasted like in ya.” He chuckles, this time his eyes directed at Hinata, whose eyes darken as he bites his lip. 

 

“J-Just because I let this happen doesn’t mean I want your stupid hands on me.” You back again, tucking your legs up to hide from him a bit. 

 

“Wasn’t my hands.” He sticks his tongue out cheekily, but with hooded eyes that make you both irritated that he’s teasing you and ashamed at how your insides pulse a bit at the sight. 

 

“Shut the fuck up, jerk.” You huff, standing and holding back a wince at how much starts to trail down your thighs — which seems to have both Atsumu’s and Hinata’s attention as you waddle towards the bathroom with as much dignity as you have left. “And don’t even think about leaving.” You raise a threatening finger at Atsumu before you close the door, “We’ve got a lot to talk about.”



*



“You know,” Hinata says over his mug of tea at the coffee table you three are gathered around, “I think the reason I like you both so much is because you’re so alike.” 

 

“What??”

 

“Excuse me?!” 

 

You and Atsumu burst at the same time and briefly give each other the stink eye before shouting all kinds of other profanities.

 

“Me? And this rude, uncouth fox of a volleyball bimbo with a cheap dye job?!” You object, “In what way are we possibly similar??”

 

“Shut yer trap, blind bandit.” Atsumu growls back, “Shoyo-kun was with me way before he decided to let ya cast yer lil pussy magic on him. If anything, I’m the one who got his boyfriend stolen from him.” 

 

“I didn’t steal anyone. Shoyo said he chose me. Over you. Or did ya miss that part?” you mock his accent in your last few words. 

 

“Hey, hey, guys I thought we were gonna have a calm, professional discussion…” Hinata brings his hands between you and Atsumu who are trying to size each other up over the coffee table. In the interest of keeping your boyfriend happy, you and the blonde slug stand down and sit back on the floor across from each other, while Hinata is adjacent to both of you. 

 

“This is kinda funny though,” he laughs, “My two favorite people interacting in the exact same way.” 

 

“Shoyo...”

 

“Shoyo-kun…” 

 

“I mean! Can’t you guys see the similarities between you two? It’s so obvious to me! Which is why I want this to work…” Hinata taps his fingers together timidly. 

 

You stare at Atsumu for a moment, trying to think about his good traits that you’ve learned about overtime as his friend/acquaintance. But nothing outside of the image of him built in your head from the past hour surfaces, so your mouth automatically goes, “No.” 

 

“Not really…” Atsumu agrees for once. 

 

“I mean, you both love me…” Hinata tries, trailing off and glancing between you two with puppy eyes, looking for confirmation. 

 

“That’s true on my side at least.” Atsumu sighs. 

 

“I also concur.” You say. 

 

“And you’re both so passionate and good at your jobs! You’re probably some of the best in your fields!” He praises, and both you and Atsumu are surprised when you both reply with rather cocky answers. 

 

Well, Atsumu you always knew was a bit arrogant, but you have reason to be proud of everything you’ve accomplished too! You didn’t work all those years busting your ass to get where you are now just to pretend to be humble. Still, you and Atsumu stare at each other in hesitant surprise for once. 

 

“And you’re both super close with your family! That’s always a good sign to me!” Hinata smiles. 

 

“Ehh…” you trail off.

 

“Define ‘close’...” Atsumu looks away. 

 

“You both love them, and I know it! I’ve seen it for myself.” Hinata insists. 

 

“If I’m honest, if I had to toss ‘Samu into the ocean for you, I probably would.” Atsumu claims. 

 

“Can’t say I wouldn’t easily and unhesitatingly choose you over some of my family either.” you admit. 

 

Hinata laughs — a big, bright, sunny laugh that suits him and him best — and puts a hand on each of your shoulders, “See, you guys are synced up already. This is gonna be fine.” 

 

“Hmm…” you and Atsumu both hum, glaring at each other over the table again before relenting to start the discussion. There’s much to talk about. 

Notes:

me, forcing the stars to align for atsuhina: october is the season for orange and black and shameless porn. also i wanted to post on 10/10/2020 for some reason

anyway, i hope you enjoyed this even tho it was a little breakaway from the usual plot monster returning to my roots of pwp this was actually partially inspired by an ushihina/reader piece i read a while back, so if you'd like a little more hinata harem love (that's reader inclusive) please go give it a read! and ofc tell me what you think here in a comment, on tumblr or on twitter

🍊🦊

Chapter 19: Miya Atsumu - Head in the Clouds

Summary:

Soulmate au in which you and your soulmate meet one another in your dreams when you go to sleep

Notes:

hiiiiii it's me. a hq fan who has returned from my bnha sabbatical to jump back into this 10 year anniversary one shot that furudate so graciously gifted us with. y'all know i be one of those whores on my knees for hinata's compression sleeves and dying over the atsumu and oikawa rivalry.

this fic has actually been sitting finished in my docs for over a year now bc i just didn't have the motivation to go back and edit it to post for the longest time. and admittedly, while this was supposed to have a semblance of plot, it really just became more of a horny atsumu character study. istg this au had so much potential but he really does only rot my brain. but ofc I love him a lot bc he’s hilarious and an incredible character, so pls give him a little credit where it’s due

and while the 10 year anniversary one shot is partial startup fuel for me finally posting this, i am also posting it now to commemorate tiffany's birthday, since she, too, is an avid atsumu lover and has been my friend since this fic's very conception when i got the idea from a random tweet. tiffany, i know you're more into your video game and vtuber boys atm, but i still hope you may still enjoy this anyway! also i am sorry for being a day late for your bday, i really tried this year

almost 32k ahead, and there are spoilers from the 12th light novel for the MSBY fan day event, so pls be aware of that. as well as a scattered variety of kinks, but nothing you little whores can’t handle, i’m sure. thanks for sticking around and i hope you enjoy :)

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Dreams are a funny thing. Even when you’re fast asleep, unmoving in your bed, or couch, or desk, your mind takes you on a new field trip every time you hit the right amount of unconscious. There’s validity to the question of where we go when we fall asleep, because when you dream, you definitely don’t feel like you’re cuddled into your own blankets or pillows. 

 

It’s as if your soul leaves your body to have part-time adventures on its own. You’ll find yourself stuck in some strange and random scenario that you can never make sense of but wholly accept in the moment. And sometimes, you feel like you learn new things, even meet new people. 

 

That’s another funny thing about dreaming; they say that what you dream of when you’re asleep is pretty much an amalgamation of everything you’ve already experienced, that you would likely never see a face you haven’t seen before, even if you don’t remember seeing it in the first place. You feel like there are times when you enter a place or situation that you’re completely unfamiliar with in any shape or form, yet they still somehow make sense to you. 

 

Or at least, it feels that way. Until one dreamy evening when you were about twelve years old, you found yourself standing in the middle of a bright gymnasium. There was a net by your head and people were scrambling around in all directions that you couldn’t seem to follow, but you heard the smack of a ball land on the waxed, hardwood flooring of what appeared to be the other side of a court. 

 

It took you a minute to figure out it was a game of volleyball, which you had played a few times in P.E. class but never took a particular interest in, but you’ve had weirder scenarios happen. Though interestingly enough, a lot of the players on this court happened to have a few quirks that you had not expected to come together. 

 

On one side — the side you stood on — everyone seemed to have a partly mechanical body, whether it was robot arms, rocket powered legs, some vaguely high-tech helmet or vest, or was just wearing a power ranger type of suit. That just seemed to be this team’s theme. 

 

On the other side, you could see a team of… magical cat girls? There’s honestly no other description that you can think of for it; they were all cute girls with brightly colored hair, cat ears and tails. Some wore pointy witch hats that matched their hair, and most of them… had very visible breasts. Though they at least seemed to take this volleyball game seriously, when one pink cat girl yelled out her challenge to the robot team. 

 

You remember having watched a few plays just go on like that from the middle of the court under the net, becoming more and more blank-faced as you watched a robot-armed player hit comet-like serves to the other opposing team while some cat girls would all dive to receive the ball and sometimes get knocked in the face by their own boobs… 

 

“What the heck kind of game is this?” You had wondered aloud. Even though your breasts hadn’t really grown in yet, you couldn’t imagine that they would do that

 

“Pretty cool, huh?” Someone had said beside you. 

 

It was the boy with robot legs. He also happened to have some mechanical shoulder blades that made him look broader. Still, you could tell that this boy really wasn’t all that much older than you. 

 

“What is?” You asked. 

 

“Duh! My team! We’re gonna be the coolest team on the court. I got all our enhancements straight from the best Gundam engineer.” He smirked with crossed arms. 

 

“You got enhancements? Isn’t that cheating?” You asked. 

 

That seemed to tick him off, “Shut up! This is a special game! ‘Sides, they got magic and animal reflexes too!” He pointed over at the pretty, but admittedly dumb-looking faces of the cat girls on the other side of the court. 

 

“Hmm… so volleyball has these kinds of tournaments too…” you hummed as you watched another rally start. This time it ended with a particularly flashy spike from the boy who had just talked to you — he had used his rocket-boosters to lift him higher and faster. 

 

He was in the middle of celebrating his point when something had finally clicked because you realized this would never happen in real life, “What a weird dream I’m having…” 

 

“What’re ya talking about?” The robot-legged boy addressed you again, “This is my dream.” 

 

You don’t recall much of the interaction that followed thereafter other than you two staring at each other, trying to grasp the lucidity of the situation, but that had been your first encounter with this strange phenomenon that people called “soulmates.” 

 

It wasn’t scientifically proven that soulmates were a real thing, but repeatedly traveling through one particular person’s dreams despite often being complete strangers was a common enough occurrence that the concept was widely accepted by the general public. You and everyone else had heard enough stories about people meeting their soulmates in dreams and growing closer until they finally met. 

 

It was another sweet notion in a collection of fairy tale romances that lived within humanity. Though as you grew older, you came to realize that things didn’t always work out in real life like they did in dreams — divorces were no less common even between soulmates. So you grew to become wary of holding onto the fantasy of one day being with your soulmate, even though he was handsome enough to convince you otherwise. 

 

You had met the boy a few times after that first volleyball dream, maybe once every couple years. And though you wouldn’t recognize each other immediately, it became clear to you who he was eventually, whether in that dream or days later when you were awake and realized why you recognized him. 

 

In a funny way, you saw how much he had grown over the years, and he likewise saw how you had grown as well. He definitely made a few comments about your boobs by the time you were in your last year of high school, and you may have asked a few questions about dicks once or twice — there was never any filter within the dreamscape. And yet, you still had yet to learn his name, or he yours. 

 

It isn’t until your last year in college, when you’re making a trip out to Tokyo for an in-person job interview that you have a slightly deeper conversation with him in a dream. They say that dreams can change wildly when you’re in a new environment, as well as through factors like stress, health, or emotions. And with the jitters of coming to the big city to look for a job on your own for the first time, you were swimming in a mixed pool of all of that. 

 

That night in your hotel room, your dream felt so vivid that it was almost like you were still awake. In fact, you thought you were already bombing your interview when a voice pops up beside you and asks, “Yo, you alright?”

 

You gasp, straightening up in your chair that’s been lined up with a few other talented individuals who easily outclass you in skill and knowledge. They’ve been making you look like a loser in front of these incredibly intimidating board members so far. But now that you see a familiar face standing casually beside you in the room with no reason to be here, you get the vague idea that this is a dream. 

 

Still, dream or not, the anxiety about this interview won’t fade so easily. “I have an interview with this company. I’m freaking nervous.” you admit. 

 

“The heck are ya nervous for? If you’ve got what it takes, they’ll see that.” He shrugs. 

 

“What? It’s not like I can help it!” You know that it’s hard to hide your real thoughts in dreams but can’t he at least show some empathy? “What, like you never get nervous, big shot?” 

 

“Nah, I know I’m good. Getting all antsy’s never been my thing.” He rests his hands behind his head, looking relaxed as hell. Must be nice. “I’ve been honin’ my skills for years. Ya can’t find a V. League setter like me just anywhere. If you’re good enough, people’ll be beggin’ to have you.” 

 

“Huh…” You blink. He’s always been a bit of a cocky one, but you suppose if he can walk the walk, he has a point. 

 

“Only people who ain’t got the chops got something to be nervous about. If ya ain’t confident in your own skill, that’s your problem.” 

 

“I happen to be entirely confident in my skill!” you protest. It’s true, you have a pretty good foundation of knowledge and experience, as well as an eye for things that happen to fall within your style and interest. But… that may not always translate over for someone else’s business. “Still… what if they don’t take me?” 

 

“Then yer a scrub.” He shrugs again. “Ow!” 

 

You take your fist back and cross your arms, “You’re not very encouraging. But… I guess you’re right, in a way.” 

 

“Whatever. No matter the result, if people know what they’re doing, they ain’t gonna miss it if you’re givin’ it your all.” 

 

“Thanks, I guess.” You smile. 

 

He turns to look at you, and for a while, you both just stay there, locking eyes. It’s weird, how clear his face looks to you. His eyes are pretty big, and his skin is clear. His jaw is sharp, too. And while you vaguely remember him having black hair in your younger years, he started going blonde and styling it up at some point. You’ve known he’s a pretty handsome fellow from meeting him a few times over the years, but now it’s like you’ve finally gotten a proper HD image to look at. If you wanted to recreate this picture when you woke up, you probably could. 

 

In the distant background, you can hear a slight chirping. As it begins to get louder, you both come to realize it’s probably one of your alarms, which means at least one of you will be leaving to wake up soon. “Well, guess that’s it for tonight.” He says, looking out towards the window on the side of the room.

 

“Yeah…” you agree, standing from your chair. “Wish me luck.”

 

He smirks before turning back to you, arms falling back to his sides as he steps towards you. 

 

Then he does something very unexpected. He picks up your chin and gives you a soft kiss. And for some reason, your dream body doesn’t take long to register the shock like your actual body would. You melt into his pillowy-soft lips rather quickly, without realizing you’re doing it. 

 

When he pulls away with a light smacking sound, there’s a small smile on his face, filled with both mischief and warmth. A strange combination. 

 

“Good luck.” His voice is smooth, casual, and somehow, it’s sincere. Despite the look on his face, and the arrogance he spoke with earlier, you can tell he’s taking a moment to give you some genuine encouragement. 

 

You’ll take it. 

 

“Okay.” You nod. 







It was your alarm that was ringing. You wake up in a relaxed position, but you feel rather stiff — like you’ve been clenching your muscles together for a while. Maybe because of the stressful dream? Or because your dream mate had kissed you? — It still feels weird calling him your soulmate since you still barely know the guy, so you’ve been calling him your dream mate for a while. 

 

But you are very much awake now, and you need to stretch a bit. You try not to let that little kiss linger on your mind for too long while you’re getting ready, but you can’t help but think about how nice it was. Even though it wasn’t real, it still felt like it. The entire dream felt a little more real than usual. Why is that? 

 

You’ve heard that dreams between soulmates become more vivid and autonomous the closer they’re together, be it physically, mentally, or emotionally. You’re not all that close to the guy, but you definitely felt like you had more control over your words and thoughts this time around. Not to mention your dream mate looked and felt more real than he ever has in the past several years you’ve run into each other. Maybe he’s also in Tokyo right now? 

 

Could just being in the same city make the connection this much stronger? Well, it would make sense since you’ve lived in a more suburban area for most of your life, so the chance of your dream mate being close to you wasn’t very high. You wonder if some soulmates never meet because they’re too far apart to ever dream about one another? Or if they were friends from a young age, would they dream about each other constantly? Maybe even get sick of each other?

 

Your mind is filled with all these soulmate and dream notions until you get to the building where your interview is being held. It was a good distraction up until this point, but you’re nervous again. You’re early and you’ve prepared as much as you could up until now, so you’ll leave the rest to fate. 

 

Maybe your dream mate is right; if you’re right for the job, you’ll get it. So with that in mind, you walk into the interviewing room determined to show your best. 



*



“So, how’d it go?” 

 

You’re standing in what looks to be like some sort of bar and restaurant, likely in a luxurious hotel considering the interior and the skyline view through the floor-to-ceiling windows. Your dream mate is sitting at the bar with a drink in his hand, so you join him. “Well, I gave it my all. Now we just await the results.” The bartender slides a drink towards you, and it has a surprisingly vivid taste. “I think they liked me well enough.” 

 

“Cheers to that.” He holds his drink to you, and you clink your glass with his before sipping together. 

 

It’s silent for a few moments, but before long, you blurt out the question that’s been in the back of your mind all day, “Why’d you kiss me yesterday?” 

 

“Oh. That…” he chuckles, looking sheepish for once as he rubs his neck, “I dunno. I thought maybe it’d take your mind off your nerves or something. And to be honest, I didn’t think I’d see ya again so soon…” 

 

You snort, “So you were just gonna steal a kiss and dip? Isn’t that harassment?” 

 

“I didn’t mean it like that, alright? Sorry if ya didn’t like it.” He pouts, hiding behind his drink. 

 

“I liked it.” You confess. It’s embarrassing to admit, but you’re not as good at bluffing here as you are in real life. “And I appreciated the gesture. Thanks… uhm… Miya Atsumu.” 

 

He blinks in surprise before setting his drink down to stare at you, “Eh, come to think of it, that’s the first time you’ve said my name. Did I ever tell you that?” 

 

“No, I looked you up today after the interview.” You reveal yet another embarrassing confession, but manage to look casual as you swirl your drink in your glass, “You said you were in the V. League last night. Took me a minute to find you but you’re in Tokyo right now too, right? That’s probably why we’re meeting again two nights in a row.”

 

“Ah, so this job you were applying for was in Tokyo?” He hums, “Huh, to think we’re finally this close to each other.” 

 

You regard his smirk with simple curiosity before you break out into giggles. “Yeah, guess so. I feel like I’m starting to get a clearer idea of your true personality.” 

 

“The heck is that supposed to mean? Ya haven’t been holding me in high regard in yer head this whole time?” He asks, clearly only half-joking. 

 

“Well, how was I supposed to? I didn’t even know your name until today.” You say, “But I will say that I’m impressed that you’re in a Division 1 team. You must actually have some chops, huh?” 

 

“I’m the best around.” He smirks back, turning in his stool to face you completely and lean in just a bit closer, “But ya can’t just tell me you know all about me now and not tell me something about you, can ya?” 

 

You gasp when he places a gentle hand on your knee, and you can feel the warmth through your sheer stockings. “What’s your name, cutie? You know I’ve been dreaming about ya for a while.” 

 

“It’s uh… it’s…” you stutter, unable to tear your gaze away from his handsome face that’s only getting closer. You had seen plenty of photos and a few video clips when you were researching him today, but you have yet to see him this close. 

 

“It’s…?” Your eyes are magnetized towards his lips when they whisper to you. He’s close enough for his breath to fan close to your face. 

 

You somehow manage to utter out your name while still staring at his lips, which you are sure he can tell you are dying to touch again with your own even without saying so. 

 

Why? You know it’s a dream and all, but you should have more self control than to want to just jump a hot guy that you still barely know! Sure, he isn’t a total stranger, but he’s still your potential soulmate. Wouldn’t it be weird to suddenly act on your physical attraction to him? 

 

He repeats your name, and his lips look so pretty curling around the syllables of it — like a perfect illustration to accompany the melody he turned it into for you. “Sounds nice. Like a name I’ve known deep in my heart all this time…” 

 

You dart your gaze back up to his eyes to see what he’s feeling, and you’re surprised to find a gentle fondness in them. Is this the same guy who called you a scrub last night? 

 

“That’s… rather romantic of you…” 

 

He laughs at that, and then comes in to kiss you. You gasp, but he pulls back rather quickly. “Yeah, it felt kinda lame after I said it aloud. But I guess it’s still the truth.” Then he comes in for another kiss. 

 

You don’t get it. There’s no rhythm or transition to his advances, but you still somehow wholeheartedly accept them. And for some reason, when he pushes you back to lie down, you know that you’ll land on a soft flat surface instead of falling out of a bar stool. That’s the thing about dreams; they change and escalate at the moment’s notice, and you kind of just go along with it. 

 

Atsumu kisses you roughly and presses his chest right against yours, wasting no time as he fondles your breasts. He’s attractive and familiar enough to you that you don’t feel any instinctual need to fight back, and maybe it’s the fact that you do have some sort of inherent connection with him that you find it easy to melt against his hands. Maybe it’s just the power of dreaming, but he sure knows how to make every touch feel wickedly good. You’re moaning against him before you can get out another word. 

 

By the time you have the strength to look up at him, you’ve already found that he’s bared himself of all clothing despite not making any moves to take them off. That’s when you also realize that you’ve changed into an outfit that you most definitely have never owned — your torso is hugged tightly in a lacy, black teddy with harness-like straps around your waist and shoulders. 

 

“Did you put this on me?” you can’t help but ask, running your hands down the straps and sheer fabric. 

 

“I dunno. I’ve never seen an outfit like this before, despite all the porn I’ve watched.” He says as he caresses his thumbs across the bare skin between a few straps at your hips, “But I definitely like it.” 

 

Gosh, then was it you who conjured up this teddy bodysuit? You somewhat recall seeing designs similar to this from online shopping sessions. You never had the money or guts to buy them though. Though in theory, this is probably the best place to try it out; you haven’t bought it but you get to see how a partner reacts to it. So while you’re here anyway… 

 

“How about this?” You didn’t know if it would work, but to your relief, the teddy somehow morphs into a two piece set that you've been eyeing and had set aside in your shopping cart for quite some time now. It’s mesh and lacy, though not as showy as the strappy number you had on previously. 

 

“Hmm… this is nice too.” Atsumu runs his hands down your now bare sides, “Not as wild as the last one, but s’got its good points.” 

 

“Oh yeah?” you raise an eyebrow in a small challenge before bringing your knees up to spread your legs and bring his attention to the crotchless bottom. To your delight, his eyes bug out a bit and you see his tongue flicker out to run across the seam of his lips. 

 

“Oh. Yeah, I can see the charm in this one.” He smirks, running his fingertips along the seam of your lips, spreading them and staring for a bit before he scoots closer and stuffs his dick completely inside you.  

 

If this were real life, you would probably feel a sting, but you can honestly say that it isn’t nearly enough yet. “Atsumu.” You gasp, pressing your hips forward, closer to him. 

 

“You’re fucking sexy.” He purrs in a voice deeper than the sea. You moan back when he leans down to kiss you, rocking hard against your hips as he does so. He’s got a hard body, and it feels large and powerful underneath your hands as you touch him. 

 

“Yes, yes, yes…” You continue to moan out as he slams deeper and deeper inside of you with every swing of his hips. It feels like it goes on forever, but neither of you seem to get tired of it. Rather than chasing a peak, you’re both just admiring one another’s bodies, enjoying how they react to each other as you move and slide and kiss up on the other. 

 

You doubt you could ever feel a sensation as deep and filling as Atsumu feels inside of you here in this shared dream. You couldn’t find a gaze so hot, a bed so soft, a man’s body to fit so perfectly against yours anywhere in the waking world. He touches you in a way you couldn’t dream of experiencing with another, like a twin flame reuniting at the hearth. 

 

Is he your soulmate? Is this why you feel so content being so intimate with him? It feels like the most natural thing in the world. 

 

“Don’t stop. Don’t let me go.” You sigh, hugging him tight as he continues to move against you. He’s moved you to lie on top of him as he jerks his hips up into yours, holding you just as snugly against his chest with his arms wrapped around your waist. 

 

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He chuckles, picking up the pace all of a sudden. 

 

You don’t say it aloud, but you silently wish that he could fill you up even more, even deeper. And somehow, he does. You feel it. All of a sudden, he grows inside of you and fills you until you’re all but bursting, and it’s so good. It’s so good that you both come together, trapped inside one another and shackled by the soul. 

 

He kisses you, and you kiss him. You kiss him until you realize you’ve woken up alone in your hotel room, pajamas soaked with sweat and panties drenched even worse. “Oh my god…” You breathe out, staring at the ceiling for a good several minutes before you finally find the strength to get up and take a shower. 

 

What the hell was all that? You think throughout the morning as you get ready and pack up most of your belongings. The more you remember and replay every moment from your dream, the more you start to cringe. 

 

It was all incredibly sexy in the moment, but you had really bared it all to him after just exchanging your names. How did you two rack up so much sexual tension from just being in the same area? You recall flirting with him every so often over the years of bumping into each other, but it was never something so… palpable.  

 

It didn’t feel urgent either. In fact, it was kind of natural… Or at least, that’s how it felt in the moment. You have no idea how you’d feel if you ever met him in person. But there’s no denying how ethereal that experience was… Maybe there’s some truth to this soulmate thing after all. 

 

You can’t imagine going through that another night in a row though, which is why you’re kind of glad you’re leaving today. You don’t know how you’d face him if you ran into him in another dream tonight. Especially since you have no filter when you’re dreaming, you can’t imagine what you’d say to him. Like, ‘oh hey, you know last night was, by far, the most outstanding sex I have ever had in my life — or, well, dreamed of having. You know we’re probably soulmates, right?’ 

 

You shudder to yourself as you walk into the dining hall of the hotel for breakfast. But as you continue to think about it, you wonder if Atsumu felt what you felt last night. Did he experience that intense connection between you too? Or was it all just a really hot, wet dream for him? He did pick things up pretty quickly, and he was the one who kissed you first the day before, after all. Maybe he was just horny and living out a fantasy through you while he could? You wonder if he’s that impatient when he’s having sex for real… 

 

As you’re scanning the trays of food lined up along the buffet, deciding on which type of bread to start with, you hear a voice echoing through the hall, “Ah! Bokkun! Ya took the last of the eggs! Lemme have some!” 

 

Kansai dialect… 

 

“No! First come, first served! It’s mine now.” Another voice laughs loudly. 

 

“It’s okay, Atsumu-san. I think they’re coming out with more right now!” Yet another chipper, but equally loud voice pipes up. 

 

“Atsumu…” You repeat in a whisper, before slowly turning towards where you heard the voices in search of him. 

 

And behold, there he is. Bleached blonde head, muscular body, and just as handsome from ten meters away as he’s been in all your dreams so far. Maybe even more handsome? Even surrounded by who you assume to be his teammates, all attractive in their own rights, he sticks out. At least, to you he does. Because despite not having ever met him, never having seen him in the flesh before this very moment, you feel like you know him. 

 

And he clearly knows you, maybe even senses you, because in the next moment, he’s looking right back at you from down the long line of food trays and hotel guests. You know he’s looking at you because you recognize those eyes, the same eyes that ate you from head to toe just the previous evening. Maybe not even a few hours ago. 

 

That memory, in and of itself, is enough to trigger your fight or flight response. You know that’s your potential soulmate. The distance between you feels almost like nothing even with all this space and all these people between you. Not many get an opportunity to meet their soulmate like this, and you don’t know if you’ll ever get the opportunity again. 

 

Yet the sheer intensity of the memory, the vulnerability you showed him in the safety of dream clouds and sleep fog, it doesn’t feel like anything but embarrassment when you lock eyes with him. All you feel is heat welling in your face. Without another thought, your body flees on its own, dropping your empty plate somewhere before rushing out of the dining hall in search of… in search of… 

 

What even is a safe place to escape from your soulmate? Your room is all the way up on the thirteenth floor. If he caught up to you while you were waiting for the elevator, or worse, caught up to you in the elevator… Oh god, you don’t think you could stand the awkwardness. 

 

Despite having left the dining hall already, you can hear a faint call of, “Wait, Tsum Tsum! Your eggs!” and it makes you break left. You’re swerving down different hallways and event rooms until you all but fly into a bathroom you find. 

 

You probably stay in that stall for a good five minutes, psyching yourself out and overthinking, until it starts to feel more claustrophobic than helpful. So you sigh, leaving the stall and washing your hands for too long as you stare at your reflection. You probably embarrassed yourself even more than you needed to by running away out there. Now he probably thinks you’re a coward, or weird. Either way, you doubt anyone would want someone like that as a soulmate. 

 

But still! You can’t help it! You exposed a whole lot of yourself to him last night and you need some time to calm down from that. Not to mention food, as your growling stomach protests. So with a sigh, you wipe off your hands and leave the sanctuary of the women’s bathroom — only to bump right into the man you had just avoided. 

 

Literally. He was standing there in the hallway by the bathroom and you weren’t paying attention and almost slammed your nose into his shoulder. That would’ve been bad if he hadn’t caught you by the arms. “Whoa there, watch where you’re going.” he chuckles. 

 

“Oh my god.” You react before you can say anything else, looking away and covering his view of your face with one hand as if it might actually erase your existence in front of him. 

 

“Don’t tell me you’re all shy now because of last night.” His voice is teasing, and the implication of his words makes you groan. “Nothin’ even happened for real yet.” 

 

“Please don’t.” Begging isn’t something you would do outside of the bedroom, but you don’t find yourself above it in this particular situation. 

 

“Come on,” he laughs, taking your wrist to pull your arm down, but you still can’t bring yourself to look at his face. “I’m pretty sure we can’t hide anything from each other at this point. Aren’t we like soulmates or somethin’?” 

 

You don’t really get it, but his hand around your wrist makes you feel both calm and nervous at the same time. His touch is firm but gentle, warm and calming, but it still sends blood to your face all the same. So you take a deep, slow breath before turning to face him, and you start by introducing yourself. Again. 

 

“Miya Atsumu.” He returns the favor, letting go of your hand to point back towards the dining hall, “Let’s go talk more over breakfast?” 

 

“Okay.” You agree quietly, walking half a step behind him as you follow him back to the dining hall. He makes small talk with you as you both load up your plates and eventually sit together at a small table for two, a safe distance away from his teammates so you won’t be bothered. 

 

“So you really were in Tokyo, huh? And to think we were staying in the same hotel too.” Atsumu says as he digs into his eggs. 

 

“Yeah, what are the odds.” You chuckle lightly. It gets easier to talk to him as the minutes pass by. He speaks to you like he’s known you for a while already, which you suppose he has, but it still feels rather surreal to meet someone you’ve only dreamt about before. “I saw you won your game yesterday. Congrats.” 

 

“Thanks. What city d’ya live in anyway? If we’re ever playing nearby, maybe you could come check out a game.” He suggests. 

 

All the casual conversation eventually leads to the both of you exchanging contact info and discussing possible opportunities to meet again in the future. It’s weird, kind of like meeting an online friend for the first time — except you both have had passionate dream sex with each other and are probably connected by some kind of metaphorical string of fate. 

 

Atsumu is actually quite polite. Not nearly as blunt and cocky as he is when you’re dreaming, so you don’t know what to believe. Is this the side of him he wants you to see? Is it fake? Or maybe he isn’t completely comfortable with you yet. You have to admit, you feel at ease with him, but you still aren’t ready to completely bare your soul to him — soulmate or not. 

 

But you learn enough for the time being; like how he’s been playing volleyball since he was a kid, how he has a twin brother, how he gets along with his team, and how he’s even on the roster for the national team for the next Olympics. To think that you’d end up dreaming about a guy like this… He’s probably more famous than you thought. Maybe you aren’t the only one who dreams about him. 

 

Though you are the only one he dreams with, right? “Say, uh… Do you remember all the dreams where we’ve met?” You ask. 

 

“Some of them, yeah.” He answers, “I don’t know how far back it started, but the first time I definitely remember seeing you was when you were dreaming about some concert. And the guitarist asked you to come up on stage and kissed you in front of everyone. That was when I definitely knew that it wasn’t my dream.” He laughs. 

 

“Oh my god, Miyavi…” you groan, hiding your eyes with a hand, enduring more of Atsumu’s laughter, “I was absolutely in love with him back in high school. Middle school too. Even though he was already married at the time, I still dreamt about it…” 

 

“Yeah, I bet. But yeah, that’s kinda when I started recognizin’ your face because the next time I saw you, I was like, ‘oh hey it’s that concert girl.’” He says. 

 

“I think the earliest dream I remember with you was this volleyball game. You and your team were all like… half robot hybrids or something.” You try to recall. 

 

“Robot hybrids?” He raises an eyebrow.

 

“Yeah, and you were playing against this team of like… magical cat girls. They all had huge tits and everything! It was back in, like, middle school or something.” 

 

“Oh yeah! I kinda remember now.” He laughs, clapping his hands together. “I was really into Gundam at the time. And I guess I was starting puberty too. But I do vaguely remember you being there now. Thought maybe you were just a random ref who liked to stand in the middle of the court instead of the side or something.” 

 

You both laugh as you continue to recall dreams from your adolescence and what you thought of each other in your small interactions over the years. As you begin to call him out, telling him how you expected him to be more potty-mouthed and rude, he throws it back at you, saying how he didn’t realize the bold and occasionally violent girl he knew could act so timid and innocent. “Especially after what you showed me last night.” He adds, his voice a rather teasingly low volume. 

 

“Oh my god, not that again.” You cover your face with both hands, hoping he doesn’t realize how hard you’re flushing. 

 

“Why not? You could show me in person next time.” He jokes. 

 

“Please stop.” You scoff, bringing your hands down, “I don’t actually own anything like that. That was probably something that I was looking at online before.” 

 

“Hmm,” Atsumu hums thoughtfully, “Well, if ya ever do end up trying one on and you’d like a second opinion, feel free to send me a pic or two.” 

 

You slap him on the arm for that, but you laugh with him soon after. He’s getting more familiar the longer you chat with him. However, it can’t last forever because he’s gotta head back to Osaka with his team and you’ve got a train to catch. 

 

Since you both have to return to your rooms, you take the elevator together, but it’s not until the doors are about to open at your floor that you realize you don’t know how to say goodbye to him. Should you just wave? Or hug him? Or maybe give him a kiss on the cheek? The milliseconds feel like they stretch into minutes as you panic to choose, but you end up leaving him with a light hug, “It was great to meet you, Atsumu.” 

 

“You, too.” He smiles, his eyes not leaving you even as you walk out with a wave. “Text me sometime.” 

 

“Will do.” You promise. 




*




After texting him for a couple of days after you both get back to your respective cities, you start to get busy again with school and job interviews while Atsumu is busy with the volleyball season. Neither of you manage to keep in consistent contact with each other, but funnily enough, you meet each other in another dream not too long after your first meeting. 

 

You’re floating on your back along a river or something when Atsumu appears beside you in a small boat, “Hey. Come here often?” 

 

He invites you onto his small boat and you both just ride smoothly down the long river that doesn’t seem to have a visible end. When you had just been floating about on your own, it felt kind of lonely and pointless, and you didn’t even know how long you had been doing that. Now that Atsumu is here keeping you company, you find that you don’t mind the long ride as much. 

 

Here, he talks more like the Atsumu that you’ve come to know in your dreams. Quick to argue, throwing playful insults, prone to bragging, and you feel more at ease. “There he is.” You giggle when he makes a dirty joke. 

 

“Whaddaya mean?” 

 

“This is more like you than that guy I met in the hotel.” You explain, “You were pretty polite, so half of the time, I was like, ‘is this really the guy I’ve been dreaming about?’” 

 

“You’re one to talk.” He throws back, “First ya wanna model your fancy panties for me but in real life ya just run off to hide in the bathroom? Laaame— Ack!” 

 

You push his chest harshly, making him almost fall onto his back, but he just laughs after he sits back up. “Shut it, at least I don’t still dream about cat girl boobies.” You huff. 

 

“Cat girls are the love of the nation!” He exclaims. 

 

“And Gundam robots are the national warriors?” You tease. 

 

You don’t recall much else happening in the dream other than your constant banter, so when you wake up and realize that you had avoided any more sexual incidents, you feel relieved. The whole conversation leaves you smiling in your bed for another couple minutes as you replay everything you can recall. 

 

It’s been only about two weeks since you first met him in person, so you’re surprised at how quickly the two of you have reappeared in one another’s dreams. Before, the average was about once a year or so. Maybe now that you’ve met, your soulmate connection is stronger or something? 

 

You spend the morning thinking about the different hypotheticals surrounding it, and when you’re studying at the university library during a break, you get a text from Atsumu. It’s a photo of your own profile picture but he’s put a cat filter on it, adorning you with kitty ears, a nose, and whiskers. And it looks like he drew a tail himself since it didn’t come with the filter. 



‘cat girls are the love of the nation’ 



You snort rather loudly and you have to look around to see if you should apologize for bothering anyone before you send him a laughing sticker in reaction. You suddenly recall another one of Atsumu’s dreams from a couple years ago where you had just watched from the sidelines as he did nothing but sit under a tree with a big-chested cat girl nuzzled on his lap who called him ‘Tsumu-nyan~’ 

 

You had been in such shock that you hadn’t uttered a word to him that time. You’re unsure if he had actually noticed you or not, but you would sooner jump into the ocean than put on cat ears and a tail and cuddle up to him like a pet. It feels weird knowing that Atsumu is into that kind of stuff, but you suppose everyone has their own interests and kinks. You’re only just starting to really get to know him. 

 

The more you appear in each other’s dreams, the more conscious control you seem to have in them when you interact with each other. Though you’re still incapable of holding your tongue from your immediate thoughts and reactions, and sometimes you both blurt out random things that don’t make enough sense for you to remember the next morning. They’ve become pleasant visits. It’s like having a cheeky friend to visit when you go to sleep. 

 

Though dreaming isn’t always a pleasant affair. In your waking hours, you’ve been in a busy flurry as you prepare for graduation, a new job, and a big move. After weighing out all of your options, you ended up choosing a position in Nagoya, so you’ve been both excited and stressed out about that. You know for a fact that the city is closer to Osaka than any of the other jobs you had applied for, and though you don’t want to say that being closer to your possible soulmate affected your decision, it was still an extra factor you kept in mind. 

 

You don’t know what would come about if you and Atsumu were to meet up again or possibly get closer. He’s your hot soulmate, so obviously the possibility of dating him in the future lives somewhere in your mind. It’s too early to tell though, especially considering you haven’t told him about the move yet. But he eventually finds out about your decision in another dream, where he found you being humiliated and reprimanded by your hypothetical seniors at your future job. 

 

He had stepped in and shooed them away and given you a sense of comfort, ironically enough. When you shared your worries with him, he seemed surprisingly happy to hear the news. And then proceeded to amp up his flirting. 

 

“Nagoya, huh? Looks like we could be seeing more of each other pretty soon, yeah?” He pushes your hair behind your ear. 

 

“Yeah, train ride’s only an hour or two away.” You involuntarily lean into his warm touch. 

 

“Oh?” He raises his eyebrows with a smirk, “I was just thinkin’ we’d be meeting here more often, but if you wanna see me in person again that bad…” 

 

“I—!” You step back, as if scalded, but he follows you and puts his hands on your hips, pressing into them with his own. You gasp. 

 

“I’m good with either one.” He murmurs into your ear, sending a feasible warmth down into your core. And then he lights it up when he lifts you by the thighs onto a desk that was behind you. You were in someone’s office, after all. 

 

“You’re pretty cute in a skirt.” He says as he runs his hands down your sides and along the curves of your tight, pencil skirt. You can’t find the words to respond as he moves his hand up your inner thigh, until it disappears beneath the skirt. “Want me to fuck you in it?” He whispers. 

 

“I— I…” You stutter, unable to think with the way his hand inches ever closer to the apex of your thighs. Gosh, his hand is so big, and warm. It’d probably feel really good if he touched you, wouldn’t it? “Yeah…” You whisper back. 

 

In the next second, his lips are on yours and his hand is ripping a hole in your sheer stockings so he can shove his fingers past your underwear and right into your wet heat. When did it even become that wet? You hope that it’s just an effect of the dream… 

 

You let Atsumu continue fingering and fondling you through your clothes as you moan and clutch onto his shoulders, begging for more through kisses. How a bad dream about work suddenly escalated into this, you have no idea, but since you’re here, you’re going full speed ahead. It feels far too good for you to stop. 

 

Atsumu gets a few buttons open to expose your chest and grope at your breasts for a beat before he bends you over the desk and hikes your skirt up your hips. “Sexy…” he comments before pushing himself inside you without a hint of resistance. 

 

“Oh, yes!” You moan loudly, embarrassingly, as he pumps himself into you. He’s only just started, but it already feels so good. Every time he moves, you can just feel the pleasure escalating and escalating… “Give me more!” 

 

“Sure thing, baby.” He smirks, jerking his hips faster against you, pinning you to the desk with his chest on your back. Your hands clutch the edge of the desk as he pounds into you, absolutely merciless with his strength and speed. But it’s not enough, it’s not enough… 

 

“More…” You whine, jutting your ass up higher against his hips, changing the angle just slightly and feeling a whole new range of pleasure. “More, daddy, please!” 

 

“‘Daddy’?” You hear him chuckle from above, and you should be mortified but you only feel desperation. “So ya like that kinda thing? Huh, sweetie?” He switches his pace into slower, but harsher smacks against your ass. “Then say it again. Call me daddy.” 

 

“Daddy… I love it.” You wiggle your ass against his hips, and delight in his approval as he groans into your back. “Fuck me harder.” 

 

He curses as he heeds your request, throwing all his strength into pounding you hard enough to scrape the desk across the floor, inch by inch. You’re shouting, taking in every thrust, clenching tight so that he may never want to leave, whining ‘daddy’ over and over until he pushes you both over the edge. When he’s catching his breath from on top of you, his voice is rough against your ear, “Damn, you were really into that… Who woulda thought.” 

 

His chuckles tickle your back as he trails a few kisses across your shoulder blades before standing again. He helps you up and adjusts your skirt before grabbing your chin to look up at his arrogant face, “Now give daddy a kiss.” 

 

You can’t possibly disobey. His voice is so compellingly sexy. So you lift up to kiss him, and you keep kissing him until you realize your alarm is going off. 

 

With a sharp gasp, you hit snooze and close your eyes again, trying to recall everything that just went down in your dream. And as you recount every moment, you start chanting, “Holy crap, holy crap, holy crap, holy crap, holy crap…” with your hands covering your eyes. 

 

Needless to say, that morning begins with a cold shower and a new pair of underwear. And it continues with taunting texts from Atsumu who seems to absolutely revel in embarrassing you. You feel compelled to block him for a day, but the fact of the matter is that you had definitely encouraged — maybe even led — that debacle last night. You know that no matter how much you deny it through text, he caught you red-handed in your own subconscious desires. 

 

You have no idea how this is going to unfold when you move to Nagoya. This isn’t the first time you’ve had dream sex with Atsumu since that one night in Tokyo. In the past few months, you’ve been showing up in each other’s dreams every other week or so, and though most are fairly weird or innocent encounters, there have definitely been a few dreams where the tension just escalated between you two for no explainable reason at all — though the most likely one is that at least one of you was horny. 

 

Despite all the heavy petting in the dreamscape, you and Atsumu don’t really bring that into the real world. In fact, other than some light flirting and harmless teasing through text, you both just communicate like regular long distance friends — without rhyme or reason, or consistency. It’s been easy enough to deal with his teasing online, but you have no idea how to defend yourself from it in person. 

 

“Wait, so let me get this straight,” your friend stands from where she’s helping you pack up a box of kitchen appliances, “You met your soulmate like half a year ago, slept with him several times in your dreams since then, and you guys still haven’t had a proper conversation about your relationship yet?” 

 

“I mean, they’re just dreams.” You shrug, taping down a box of your own, “They don’t really count, do they?” 

 

“But you’re both having them! And you’re not stopping it!” She protests, “You are having consensual sex again and again like you’re dream fuck buddies! You cannot mean to tell me that you aren’t starting to feel something for each other, even if it’s only in your dreams.” 

 

“Well, I like him, I guess?” You try to sound convincing, but you doubt even a child would believe you. “But even if I do, it’s only his dream version I’ve been really getting to know. Isn’t who he chooses to be in the waking world a more true reflection of who he is? I’ve only met that guy once.” 

 

“And watched all his video compilations and fancams.” 

 

“Shut it. Still doesn’t count.” You argue, moving to tape up more boxes, “Who he is in-dream and on-court doesn’t reflect how he’ll be as a soulmate or partner or just friend in general. If I meet him again for real, then I’ll start to think more seriously about having that conversation.” 

 

“Fine. Whatever. Your soulmate, your choice.” Your friend goes back to helping you pack. 

 

You continue packing without touching on the topic of Atsumu, but you can’t help but wonder if a relationship is in the cards. Sure, you’re soulmates and all, but if you can’t see him like a regular boyfriend, then you’d probably opt to stay friends. The Atsumu you’ve come to know in your dreams is undoubtedly hot and arrogant, but he also has a goofy side and likes to make you laugh. And you can’t explain it, but being around him, even just in your dreams, makes you feel good. Safe and comfortable, like nothing can bother the two of you inside your own little world. 

 

You can’t be sure that the real life Atsumu would make you feel the same, but he seems like he’d at least make a good friend — albeit an annoying one. As willing as you are to jump his bones when you’re asleep, you don’t want to start something one of you can’t keep up with in the long run. 

 

As cautious as you’re trying to be, however, you can’t help but have a little hope and excitement when Atsumu announces he’ll drop by for a visit. 

 

It’s almost a month after you get settled into Nagoya and start your new job, and already, you’ve seen an exponential increase of Atsumu through your dreams alone. He appears at least once or twice a week now, so it starts to feel like a coin flip or rolling a die when you go to bed. 

 

So far, you two have mostly been getting caught up in weird dreams conjured up by your worries and current personal obsessions. You especially have been imagining wilder things since you’re getting used to a new environment and lifestyle, and sometimes Atsumu just gets dragged along for the ride — whether it be tours of your colleagues’ closets and offices, protecting your family from a group of assassins loosely associated with a rival company, or manually rowing a viking ship down a river made up of watermelon juice. 

 

Because of the absolute ridiculousness of your dreams lately, there hasn’t been much hanky panky between you two. On the contrary, the only action that’s happened since you moved to Nagoya was actually when you walked into one of Atsumu’s dreams, where he was fucking some other girl in a luxurious fountain bath filled with flower beds and the scent of pheromones. 

 

At first, you were so caught up in how gorgeous she was that you didn’t even register the fact that that was your supposed soulmate jamming his dick into her, sending steaming bathwater and flower petals everywhere. But after a moment, when he somehow noticed you and called out your name, you came to and ran out of the luxurious bath area and into… somewhere else. You don’t really recall because you had woken up shortly afterward — and in a shitty mood, nonetheless. 

 

You had spent the rest of the day ignoring Atsumu’s texts, staying irritated for no logical reason as you started overthinking again. Trying to recall what you told yourself about your dream self not always representing your true self didn’t lift your spirits at all. From what you skimmed of Atsumu’s texts as they appeared throughout the day, you got the gist that the girl in his dream was someone on the MSBY PR team, and that she’s hot and all that but he’s ‘not into her at all.’ 

 

You have to physically stuff your phone deep into your bag to prevent yourself from writing back something like, ‘well she’s hot enough for you to dream about fucking her, isn’t she??’ like some crazy, possessive girlfriend. Because you are not his girlfriend!! And you have no right to demand explanations or loyalty from him. Why is he even telling you all of this anyway? Just because you’re soulmates — dream mates, whatever — he doesn’t owe you anything, especially because you aren’t even an item… 

 

Maybe this is why your friend was insisting on you having that conversation with him… Because even if you are soulmates, if he’s thinking about — or wants to be — fucking someone else, or he likes someone else, then there’s definitely no room for you to be together. 

 

But… You replay the scene of Atsumu pressing that girl to the edge of the bath, hugging her hips and fucking her like crazy — remembering how he had fucked you the same way not too long ago. Maybe he doesn’t see you as more than a warm-bodied friend… Maybe he’s just a regular, young, hot-blooded guy who’s not ready to do any settling. And if he is, then who are you to blame him? Or stop him? Just because you’re connected by fate or whatever it is doesn’t mean he has to dedicate his life or dick to you. 

 

“Ugh!” You groan, throwing yourself onto your bed later that evening. Fuck him. You know you shouldn’t be this angry about a stupid dream, but you can’t help it if you are! So maybe you like him! Maybe you thought you had something with dream Atsumu and you were shocked when you saw him completely content holding someone else. Whatever. Fuck him. 

 

At some point, you find yourself walking through this huge, endless valley that’s blooming with flowers at your feet. They’re beautiful, flooding your brain with endless color and the mood of spring. But you’re alone. And you wonder for a moment, is it worth it to see all of this beauty if you can’t share it? 

 

Somewhere in this boundless field, you hear a distant, “Hey!” 

 

You look around, twirling about the garden in search of the voice. Though you don’t see anyone, you hear the distant, “Hey!” getting closer. And closer. Until eventually, you see a small figure grow larger from the horizon. 

 

As it gets closer, you can tell by the blonde hair flopping about in the wind and the usual black outfit that it’s Atsumu. You don’t move from your spot, just watching as he runs towards you, sweating and panting when he finally stumbles to stand in front of you with his hands on his knees. “I’ve— been— lookin’— for ya…” He says between gasps of air. 

 

“Uh…” From the way he says it, it sounds like he’s been running a marathon or something to find you. But from what you can recall, you only just got here. “Well, you found me?” 

 

“You’ve been... real tough... to get ahold of today.” He slowly regains his breath and stands to face you, showing a look of determination you don’t often see directed at you. “Look, I get it if you’re mad about what you saw yesterday, but there ain’t nothin’ between me and that girl. There ain’t nothin’ between me and anyone right now, okay?” 

 

You want to play coy, act like you could care less, but as usual, you’re not entirely in control of your own reactions when you’re dreaming. “So, what? You just needed someone else to fuck while I’ve been busy being stressed out about work? Sorry I couldn’t wet your dick because I’ve been trying to build a new life!” 

 

“Come on, baby, it’s not like that.” He begs. It surprises you, the pleading look on his face. As well as the pet name. He looks like he’s actually worried about upsetting you. “It was just a dream, you know that those don’t make sense sometimes.” 

 

Well, that’s definitely true. This entire month has been enough to prove it. Yet, you still feel heated enough to ask, “What about it doesn’t make sense? She's a hot girl you see around. Way more often than you see me . Of course you’d think about fucking her like any other guy would. Whatever! Not like I care.” You cross your arms over your chest and turn away, like you’re some teenager. 

 

This time, instead of pleading, you hear the all-too-familiar chuckle. And then you feel his arms wrap around your waist from the side, “God, you’re so freakin’ cute when you’re mad, you know that? Are ya jealous?” 

 

“No!” You deny, trying to pull away, but he’s got you held tight. “Let go of me, stupid horny jerk.” 

 

“Don’t wanna.” He chuckles, hugging you closer and tucking his chin into your neck. 

 

“Stop it! You’re so stupid! Get off me!” You wrestle him off, but you end up falling onto your back on the ground, scattering flowers everywhere. Atsumu lies on top of you, caging you to the fresh soil with his arms and a smirk. 

 

“Come on, just admit it.” He taunts, “You’re not mad at me. Ya just don’t like me dreamin’ about other girls, innit that right?” He nuzzles his nose into your neck again, and your will to fight deflates to almost nothing. Honestly, most of it had left you the moment he put his arms around you. But the last trace of it truly disappears when he presses his lips to your cheek, and he whispers into your ear, “I’m sorry for dreamin’ about someone else. Guess I was startin’ to miss ya.”

 

“You were?” 

 

“Well, yeah. I mean, not like I can talk to you much when you’re busy shootin’ down killers and climbin’ beanstalks, can I?” He laughs. 

 

“Whatever…” you grumble, turning your head away in a futile attempt to escape him. But he chases after you, kissing down along your jaw. 

 

“How ‘bout I make it up to ya, then? I’ll come up for a visit.” 

 

You gasp when he nips at your skin just below your jaw, but more because of what he just proposed. “Come up…? You mean like… to Nagoya?” 

 

“Yeah.” He leaves a kiss at your neck before coming up to meet your eyes again, “I mean, you’re already this much closer now. I’ve been meanin’ to ask when I could drop by to see ya. But you’ve been having all these weird stress dreams, so I figured I’d let you take your time first.” 

 

“Oh…” you blink up at him. That’s surprisingly considerate. Or maybe not surprising. You still have yet to figure out which side of Atsumu makes most of his decisions. But for now, you’re satisfied. “Okay…” you say. And without a second thought, you lean up for a kiss, and pout when he doesn’t close the distance. 

 

You expect him to meet you halfway, but he just stares at you for a moment before suddenly sitting up, throwing his hands to his face, shouting, “Agh!! So damn cute!! Yer killin’ me.” 

 

That sends heat rushing to your face. So indignantly, you shove him off of your lap and to the side, sitting up with a huff. The rest of the conversation is lost to you, but you do recall Atsumu pulling you back to press your back against his chest in a hug before you realize you’re waking up in your bedroom. 

 

With a groan, you stretch your arms up and reach over to turn off the alarm before lying on your back to stare at the ceiling for a few minutes, recollecting your thoughts. You haven’t had back-to-back dreams with Atsumu since that first time in Tokyo. Did he actually run around the dreamscape trying to find you last night? The prospect of intentionally searching for your soulmate in your dreams and actually finding them seems lofty. Though not impossible, you suppose. 

 

As you recall all the ways Atsumu had touched you and kissed you and showed some rare sincerity last night in that flower field, you find that your chest feels warm. And that you’re no longer in the sour mood you had marinated in all day yesterday. In fact, you catch yourself smiling in the mirror when you walk into the bathroom to wash up. 

 

Oh gosh, what is he doing to you… you wonder as you go about your morning routine. Though you think you’re getting closer to the answer when you get a text during your commute to work later.



‘Hey, this weekend okay for you? I’ll book a ticket up ;)’



You catch yourself smiling again in the reflection of your phone screen when you lock it after sending a yes. 



*




You actually have a work event that Saturday morning, so you can’t pick up Atsumu at the station. He assures you it’s fine (after jokingly accusing you of avoiding him) and says he’ll just take a taxi and set his stuff down in the hotel he’s staying at for the weekend before coming out to meet you for a late lunch. 

 

You message Atsumu throughout your commute to the restaurant you agreed upon, updating him on how much longer you’ll be. And every minute you get closer, the higher your nerves spike. It’s harder and harder not to freak out. You’re finally getting another chance to have a real, uninterrupted conversation. One where you have complete control over your subconscious impulses. 

 

You don’t know what to expect, but it’s certainly not for Atsumu to be dressed so well. He has a few photos on his social media out of uniform, but you didn’t expect such a perfect spring date outfit. “Hi.” You sweep into the restaurant and join him at the table he’s already occupied, “Wow, you look really good today.” 

 

So much for controlling your impulses. 

 

“Thanks,” he laughs, “Ya don’t look so bad yourself.” 

 

“Yeah, the sweaty glow really adds to the whole working on the weekend outfit, huh?” You joke. His casual yet striking sweater and long coat ensemble makes your exhausted business casual look extra uptight. Why did you suggest lunch again? “How was your trip here?” 

 

You make the casual small talk and order your food, but you don’t really feel at ease yet. It doesn’t help that Atsumu keeps smiling at you like he’s hiding something. “So, how long has it been since we last met anyway? Like four months?” you ask. 

 

“I think almost five now.” Atsumu says, “We were just around the middle of the season last time I saw ya in Tokyo. Any reason ya chose Nagoya though? Other than me, a’course.” 

 

“Shut up.” You roll your eyes but smile anyway, “This company pretty much offered me the most for a job that was in the city. There were a few higher-paying ones and some with better promotional opportunities out in the suburbs, but I’m not looking to buy and deal with a car just yet. And I figured it wouldn’t be as crowded here as Tokyo, at least.” 

 

“Well you’re right about that. I didn’t hafta fight no one to get a seat on the subway.” He says, “Ya weren’t afraid of leavin’ anyone behind though?” 

 

“My family will always be there for me to visit. And my friends are all over the place too, moving to this place and that like me. I’ll find my way back to them every so often.” You shrug. 

 

Atsumu hums as he mixes around his food in his bowl, “And no boyfriend?” It actually comes out more like an answer than a question, and you almost snort. 

 

“Oh boy, if I had a boyfriend while I was meeting you every other night, I’d be in some real trouble there.” 

 

“Oh, I’m sure you would.” He brings his spoon up to his mouth but pauses so he can wink at you, “But I wouldn’t tell.” 

 

“You jerk!” You scoff, slapping his arm lightly. “What about you? You got a girl who isn’t just a PR rep in your life?” 

 

He laughs, deeper and more with his chest than he has this entire lunch so far. “If I told ya there was, wouldja be mad?” 

 

You bite your tongue, and pull off a casual shrug, “It’s your life. Not like you have to change everything just because you met the girl from your dreams.” 

 

“Is that what you think ya are? A girl from my dreams?” He looks amused, curious. “Ya don’t believe in this whole soulmate agenda?” 

 

“No, I believe it.” You admit, “It’s far too common for me not to. But just because we dream about each other doesn’t mean we automatically know each other, right? Or that we have to automatically change our lives for one another.” 

 

“Ya got a lotta good points. ‘Cause I definitely wouldn’t give up volleyball for anything. Not even a soulmate.” His voice grows a little harder, and so do his eyes. “I’ve seen enough people sacrifice for their soulmates and have it not be worth it. I like ya and all, [Name], but you should know where I stand. It’s fun to dream about ya, but if I’m awake and in control, I ain’t givin’ up my life for nobody else.” 

 

Though you agree with his points, the downright serious aura he’s slowed to intimidates you a bit. So there’s this side of Atsumu somewhere beneath all the polite smiles, cheeky banter, and unabashed arrogance. It commands a bit of respect, and you can only nod in silence to answer. 

 

“‘Course, that means I also don’t expect that of you, either. Even if we’re soulmates, we’re still our own people. I wouldn’t try to take anything you’ve built away from ya.” He reassures. 

 

“I respect that.” You nod. 

 

He’s smart to be cautious. There are far too many romantics in the world who drop everything in their lives, move away, and turn the world upside down in order to be with their soulmates because they saw them in a dream. Though the phenomenon is fairly common, there’s no evidence that suggests that your soulmate is always someone you’re meant to be with romantically. 

 

Statistically, soulmates have no consistent purpose — some are scattered about many spectrums of gender, age, distance, and some rare cases even find their soulmates within family. There’s no rule that soulmates have to be involved beyond their dreamscapes, though the notion that you’ll meet your one true love in your dreams is a fantasy held close to many. But there have been enough cases of soulmate separation and platonic friendship that prove no one is obliged to be with their soulmate. 

 

You suppose you wouldn’t mind any of the options if you were to continue seeing Atsumu and making him a part of your life, but the small pang of disappointment in your chest makes it clear to you that you were hoping for… at least something. He didn’t rule out the possibility of it, of course, but now you’re wondering where you should stand about the matter. 

 

This is where dream Atsumu and waking Atsumu differ; dream Atsumu is charmingly impulsive and unabashedly flirty, without a care and easy to fuck. This Atsumu sitting before you now… he’s got his guard up. He’s diligent and strong-willed, and even when he jokes around there’s an air of careful intention to it — like he’s reading you and deciding when and how to show his cards. You’re almost bewildered at how that this is supposed to be the guy who dreams about cat girls and fucking you on desks.

 

But you suppose this is the reason you’re trying to get to know him, isn’t it? So you can find the connections between the two Atsumu’s and get to know the soulmate that fits into both molds. The man he makes himself out to be by choice and the man who’s unable to hide his candid thoughts and desires are still somehow one and the same. You just have to bridge the gaps. 

 

After lunch, he agrees to your suggestion of going to the science museum to check out what’s supposedly the world’s biggest planetarium. And despite the serious conversation you both had during lunch, he loosens up quite a bit as you make your way through several of the exhibits.

 

You share different stories and interests as you pass by models of engines, trains, sediments, and interactive demonstrations. And as the day goes on, you start to realize that Atsumu really does have a more childish, goofy side to him that’s easier to approach. He throws pickup lines at you in the firetruck model that allows people to drive through the virtual roads on-screen, he tries catching a balloon that flies around within the tornado demonstration, and he even draws a cute little fish to add to the virtual aquarium. 

 

“Quit laughin’ at my art!” He harrumphs as you snap a picture and video of his horridly colored tuna swimming amid all the other kids’ drawings. 

 

“I’m not laughing!” You object, “But it is funny how you chose to draw the thing that you most like to eat.” 

 

“Speak for yourself, Takoyaki-san.” He retorts as he points to your octopus drawing that begins floating around in the virtual aquarium as well. 

 

You both laugh as you take a few more photos — Atsumu makes you chase after his tuna and your octopus to snap some blurry selfies — before you start heading to the planetarium for your scheduled showing. Once settled into your seats, you suddenly realize that the stuffy air between you has all but dissipated in the last couple hours. 

 

And when he gently takes hold of your hand as the planetarium demonstration begins, you find that you’re no longer nervous around him. In fact, his warm grip of your hand paired with the awe-inspiring view of the stars could be the most comfortable fit in the world. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think you were dreaming right now. 

 

Is being with Atsumu this easy? Is this what having a soulmate is supposed to be like? You know you don’t feel this at ease on any regular first date, but isn’t that because you’ve known Atsumu for a little while now? Despite not being present in most of your life, you can’t deny that he’d be easy to fall for. Maybe you already are? 

 

When you glance over at him during some part of the presentation, you catch his eyes turning to look at you at the exact same time. Though your first reaction is to look away, you find yourself fighting to keep his gaze, searching his eyes for his thoughts. But it’s dark, and he’s hard to read as it is, so you only offer a smile.

 

“You enjoying yourself?” 

 

He stares back at you for a moment, making you feel like it’s stretching into something more significant than you can detect, but eventually he answers, “Yeah. Are you?” 

 

“Mhm.” you smile wider before turning back to the dome projections. It’s funny to think how worried you were about meeting him today, and now you’re as happy as can be that he’s having a good time with you. “Thanks. For coming up to see me.” 

 

This time, when he squeezes your hand, your heart jumps a little. In excitement. “Pleasure’s all mine.” 



*



The rest of the weekend is spent hopping bars, cafes, eating street food, going shopping, and walking around a few tourist sites that you haven’t gotten a chance to see yourself yet since moving. Somewhat to your relief, Atsumu doesn’t push his invite for you to hang out in his room, so — despite your curiosity — you avoid any possible sexual escalations. You also appreciate that he holds back on taunting you over the fact that you have most definitely fucked him on multiple occasions in your dreams — even though you know he’s the type to crack dirty jokes like eggs in a bowl.

 

You find that even when both of you still have to juggle work emails and calls, you’re both almost entirely present when you’re with one another. To be honest, you didn’t peg Atsumu as the listening type, but he pays a fair amount of attention to everything you say and once you get into a more comfortable rhythm, it’s quite easy to tether conversation between one another. Somehow, your humor, your energy, and all your little idiosyncrasies seem to match just right with little effort once you get the ball rolling. 

 

Is this what it means to have a soulmate? Is it supposed to be this easy? Are things going extremely well right now because they’ll begin to stutter through traffic later? Are you setting up too many expectations? These are all questions that stir in the back of your mind, but at the moment, you find it easier to focus on Atsumu. 

 

By the time his weekend in Nagoya ends and you see him off at the train station, you think you can safely say that you like him. You like a lot of things about him. You want to get closer to him. You can only hope that you can. 



*



Even though you don’t see Atsumu in person for a while after that, you still see him pretty often. In the usual place but in a different setting when you go to bed. You end up meeting in your dreams for maybe half the week now. To be honest, you see him more than you see some of your closest friends, or even some of your own colleagues. 

 

You don’t hate it. It’s not like every dream ends up being like a date. Sometimes, you’re caught up in an unsensible adventure again or even in some mundane activity, like house chores. It’s funny, how you were both dreaming about living together that one night. You had spent most of the dream physically changing and decorating the interior until you had ended up with some sort of mini-castle that would definitely never fit into a standard Japanese apartment. 

 

Atsumu dreams a lot about volleyball. You’d think that for someone who plays, talks, and breathes it all day would get his fill in his waking hours, but he keeps it close to him even in sleep. His profound and pure love for the sport is rather impressive, and while you mainly know the basics, he ends up teaching you quite a lot more than you bargained for in his dreams where he’s playing against or alongside some of his idols. 

 

It compels you enough to actually sign up to play at a community center in your district. Just to sate your curiosity. You don’t tell Atsumu about it when you first sign up, since you wouldn’t want to tell him you quit after the first few practices if you ended up being over it. But he catches you dreaming about it when you’re in uniform and just bumping the ball on your own on a court you’ve never seen before. 

 

“Oh? I didn’t know you wanted to spike for me that bad.” Atsumu teases from the side of the court one night, surprising you. 

 

“Who said anything about that?” You retort, “I just wanted to see what all the fuss is about. Since you can’t seem to breathe without the sport.” 

 

Atsumu laughs and joins you on the court, holding his hand out for the ball you were bumping. “Give it here.” 

 

You hand it over and get into a proper receiving stance as he walks over to the other side of the net and prepares to serve. After giving you a last warning that he’s going to start, you focus all your energy into following the powerful jump serve he sends your way. To your delight, you manage to get it up into the air, but it flies back over to his side of the court. 

 

And before you realize it, Atsumu is dashing up to the front of the court to jump and make a direct slam right back into your court. You’re staring slack-jawed at the ball that bounces away when Atsumu smiles, “Not bad, beautiful.” 

 

“Are you going easy on me?” you squint at him. 

 

“Well, ya don’t expect me to go all out on a newbie now, do ya?” He smirks, “Unless you want me to.” 

 

Fire surges in your chest at that arrogant look on his face, “You know what? Do it. Show me what you got.” you dare, rolling the ball back to his side of the court. This is a dream anyway, so there’s no way he could actually hurt you, right? 

 

“You sure, sweetheart?” He asks one last time, though it looks like he’s already itching to serve again with the way his eyes glint while he tosses and catches the ball in one hand. 

 

“Bring it on, hot shot.” 

 

“You asked for it.” His eyes are glowing as he makes the run up and all but spikes the ball over to your side of the court. And— And it literally goes so fast that it catches on fire!!! Like a goddamn comet! 

 

The only reason you even manage to touch the ball is because he had aimed it at you, and when it hits your arms, it fucking burns. It goes right through your attempted bump and crashes into the floor between your feet, breaking and digging into the hardwood floor. 

 

Yet, that’s not the most ridiculous thing that happens — part of your clothes burn up from the flames that caught onto your uniform. You can only watch as the majority of your clothes disintegrate into what eventually starts to look like charred underwear.

 

“OW!” you shout, patting out the flames, even though you don’t seem to feel much feasible pain outside of some stinging. “Atsumu, what the fuck!” 

 

Your jerk of a soulmate is over on the other side of the court, laughing his ass off. Full on clutching his stomach on the floor, tears about to fall from his eyes. “Oh my god!! That is freakin— I cannot… believe— ahahaha!!” 

 

After a few more minutes of you yelling and Atsumu trying to calm himself down, he finally walks over to give you some actual pointers. “Your stance is too solid. Your feet should be pointed at a bit of an angle, so that you’ll be ready to move at a moment’s notice.” Despite your embarrassingly burned up outfit, Atsumu gives you sound advice and adjusts your positioning to actually help you improve. 

 

Though he does try to take slight advantage of the amount of skin you now have exposed when he constantly has his hands on you with the excuse of correcting your posture. You just scoff and roll your eyes, but at least remain receptive to the words he’s saying. 

 

After you woke up, you wrote down all the advice you remember him telling you and keep it with you the next few times you show up to play volleyball at the community center. And what do you know? Your bumps do start looking better with the adjustments. 

 

You send him a short video of you practicing bumps with a friend from the community team a few days later. 



‘I guess you know what you’re talking about’ 



You don’t check his reply until you get home and are about to head to bed, but you chuckle as you read his response. 



‘Wait, so you were actually playing??’

 

‘U tryna become my actual dream girl or sumn? ;P’ 

 

‘Your form is looking good tho! Maybe you can come down to Osaka for a real lesson next time? ;)’



Your heart pounds a little in your chest, both at the dream girl comment and the invitation to see him again. It has been a little while since you last saw him in person… And you wouldn’t be against learning a bit of volleyball from a pro athlete in the league. 

 

So you text back. 



‘You free next weekend?’ 




*




“The ball’s not gonna catch on fire or anything, is it?” You ask, just in case, as you get into position to receive. 

 

Atsumu laughs as he walks a couple meters away from you on the grass with the volleyball in his hands. “I wonder.” He jokes, “Should I surprise ya?” 

 

“Spare me.” You roll your eyes. “But don’t feel the need to go easy on me either.” 

 

“Oh? So you can be bold when you’re awake.” He smirks as he starts tossing and catching the ball in his hand. You flip him off for that, and he retaliates by sticking his tongue out. “Here I go.” He finally says when you’re both ready. 

 

He comes at you with a jump float serve, and you opt to back up to catch it underhand. It swerves off a little at the last second, but you give chase and manage to touch it. Though unfortunately, it bounces off to the side for some reason. “Agh!” you groan before running after the ball. 

 

That was a lot less intimidating than a comet ball, but Atsumu had granted your request not to go easy on you. You’ve seen enough about him online to know that he’s pretty famous for his serves, so you guess it makes sense that you’re not going to be bumping every one of them. Still, couldn’t he at least make it more of a rally instead of fetch?? 

 

“Can I serve it now?” You groan after picking up the ball for what must be the twentieth time in the past ten minutes. 

 

“Ya haven’t even been able to properly bump back my jump serve yet!” Atsumu taunts. 

 

“As if any regular human could properly bump that back within an hour!” You shout back. 

 

“Aw, ya ain’t gotta sweet talk me like that,” he waves at your comment, actually looking genuinely flattered. “But fine, serve it to me. I’m interested.” 

 

Well, it’s not like there’s much for him to see because you can still only pull off a regular serve, but you’d say that your aim isn’t too shabby for someone who only recently started playing again for the first time since maybe high school or college. You serve the ball intending for it to land somewhere on Atsumu’s right, and it does veer in that direction. But of course, being the pro-athlete who’s played and literally dreamed about volleyball since he was a kid, he bumps it back to you with as much ease as taking a breath. 

 

You bump it back and forth with him a few times before he tells you a harsh one is coming, and he jumps to spike it down to your side. You end up falling forward into the grass in your attempt to retrieve, but it flies off at an angle and out of the rhythm of the rally. And even though you’re the one who fell on your face, you still find yourself laughing. “One more time?” you ask. 

 

Atsumu plays with you for a little while longer before suggesting to take a break, so you both return to the tree where you had left your stuff sitting. But instead of taking a seat with you on the grass, he says, “Wait here for a bit.” and takes off running without waiting for an answer. 

 

You’ve come to realize he’s a bit quick on his feet and thoughts, so you just chuckle after him and take a swig of your water. It’s been a great day so far; you arrived in the morning, your hotel room was available for early check-in, Atsumu took you to a good soba place, and then he brought you to this huge park where you walked and chatted for a bit before settling in this spot to play around with the volleyball. 

 

This time around, it’s been easier to talk to him. He’s starting to feel more like the Atsumu you see in your dreams now that he’s more comfortable with you. And you’re taking more risks than usual by dropping jokes or acting familiar with him despite how this is still only your third in-person meeting. There’s still a thin air of caution between you both, like you’re both wondering if you should continue toeing any lines or going beyond harmless flirting. 

 

The day so far has been innocent enough, Atsumu having taken the liberty to plan out the day for you. You’re at a point where you can go beyond small talk and see how animated he gets when he’s bragging or gushing about something he really enjoys. It’s fun seeing that more childlike side of Atsumu, even if it does show his slight immaturity at times. 

 

He teases you a lot more now, making little joking jabs at things you told him when you were dreaming or bringing up embarrassing things that he knows about you because of how much you dream with each other. But he goes on the defense just the same when you go off on his equally embarrassing secrets that you honestly could have lived your entire life without knowing. 

 

Despite how it may feel like you have way too much leverage over each other, you still trust one another to keep it to yourselves. Or at least, you do. If you ever found out that he told his teammates or friends about how he once recreated that one dream you had back in high school where you tried to twerk in front of your hot English classmates or something, you might actually kill him. 

 

That’s another thing; the more you see each other in your dreams, the more autonomy you seem to have even when you’re asleep. Sometimes, you feel like you have as much control in your dream as you would in a video game simulation — conjuring up items or changing your environment at will, recreating other dreams or even actual memories, having weird or kinky sex that you definitely wouldn’t have the balls or capability to try in real life. It’s like getting to live another life after your regular one in the daytime. 

 

And Atsumu has made it pretty fun for you. 

 

“Hey! I brought takoyaki!” He announces when he returns to your tree spot to plop down next to you and hold out the fresh, hot snack that he must have gotten from one of the nearby food stalls. 

 

“Ooh, thanks!” You take a toothpick and pluck it into one of the octopus balls, blowing on it before stuffing it in your mouth. “It’s so good.” 

 

“Then gimme one. Aah~” He opens his mouth wide, not bothering to move his other very free hand on the ground. 

 

You snort and roll your eyes but relent anyway, feeding him a piece with a smile. He can be cute when he wants to, but he’s honestly cuter when he isn’t trying to be. You find charm in both those sides of him.

 

“It’s still kind of funny to me that this is only the third time I got to see your real face this close up.” You say. “Feels like I should know you inside and out already. But meeting you for real is still… new.” 

 

“Yeah, huh?” Atsumu says thoughtfully, “Guess it takes a lot to really know a person.” 

 

“Do you know anyone around our age who’s… y’know, with their soulmate right now?” You ask, offering him another takoyaki ball. 

 

“Yeah, a buncha people, actually.” He says before biting into it. One of his cheeks bloats up as he keeps chewing while he talks, which you shake your head at but don’t bother to stop as he continues, “Plenty of ‘em are happy, but… there are some tragic stories too. Which is why I really don’t get all this soulmate business sometimes. Like, ya expect this person from your dreams to be your other half, but then ya meet and you fight, or ya fall in love with someone else, or ya trick yourself into being with someone because you know ya can’t hide nothin’ from ‘em. I mean, soulmate or not, it’s not somethin’ that’s supposed to just magically work out, ya know?” 

 

“I guess so? I know a few people who haven’t gotten their happy ending yet. But still… the ones that do… kinda make you wish you had that.” You look up in thought, during which Atsumu comes in to steal the takoyaki ball that you had been holding up with a dramatic bite. “Hey!” 

 

“Ya snooze, ya lose.” he chuckles with gratification. The snarky, teasingly mean Atsumu from your dreams has been occasionally making his appearance in the waking world this visit. Which you guess is a good thing, since you’re finally seeing some familiarity sink into the real world. It makes you feel like this is your Atsumu after all.

 

“But I get what ya mean. I know some people who are already married to their soulmates. They look like they couldn’t be happier.” He continues your earlier conversation, “Sometimes I think I wouldn’t mind having that.” 

 

“Hmm.” You say, not daring to look at his face during that comment. It makes your heart beat faster, but you don’t want to get your hopes up too quickly. “Did you ever have a girlfriend who decided to be with her soulmate while she was with you?” you ask out of curiosity. 

 

Atsumu hums as he sifts through his memories, “Nope, don’t think so. If we broke up, it was for regular ol’ reasons. Like I was busy all the time or I talked about or played too much volleyball. But honestly, if they can’t accept that about me, then I’m better off.” 

 

“Well, I guess you can’t get a serve like that if you’re out wasting your time on things like dating and having sex, now can you?” You laugh, “It’s no wonder you’re so horny all the time in your dreams.” 

 

“Am not!” he protests.

 

“Uh huh, tell that to the number of times you put me in a maid outfit or a catsuit.” You roll your eyes, hiding your laugh with another bite of takoyaki. 

 

“Can ya blame me? You look so good in them.” He surprises you by saying it without a smirk on. You guess it’s a genuine compliment, as weird as it is. “Besides… I uh— I haven’t really been with anyone since uh… since I met ya.” 

 

“Oh.” You blink. Even more surprises. Though come to think of it… “Actually, I don’t think I’ve been with anyone since I met you either.”

 

Why does the way he looks relieved put a bit of a spell on you? You swear your heart was doing just fine only a moment ago. But the way his shoulders relax and his eyes soften and brighten at the same time that he hears your confession, he starts to resemble a puppy. 

 

However, it’s not long before the cocky, smirking Atsumu returns to hijack the soft mood with a dirty joke, “You’d find your way back to me anyway. ‘Cause you’re daddy’s little princess, right?” he leans in to tease in your ear, for which you smack him away. 

 

“Shut up.” you scoff. You elbow him again for good measure. “Jerk.”

 

“There she is! The shy, violent one.” he laughs, wrapping his arm around your waist to bring you in close before kissing your cheek. 

 

You freeze, completely caught off guard. Your cheek burns from the soft contact of his lips. 

 

This is the first time he’s kissed you outside of the dreamscape. Up until now, all the flirting and teasing has been easygoing and friendly, but this is the first time he’s shown you a solid indication that he’s actually interested in you. 

 

Sure, you guys were traveling across cities to meet each other in what could be considered dates and holding hands in a planetarium while staring into each other’s eyes and cuddling up to feed one another in a public park, but did that really mean he was truly interested in you? He hasn’t said anything particularly positive on the topic of soulmates so far, so you couldn’t tell if he had any expectations from you. 

 

And though you two have played out some of the dirtiest scenarios on each other in your dreams, neither of you have really made a bold, decisive move on the other. You thought maybe you were taking it slow, playing it safe. And not that this couldn’t still be taking that pace, but you can’t help your surprise anyway. 

 

“S’matter? Ya didn’t like it?” He asks, dropping the teasing tone. 

 

“Oh! I uhm— uh. I was just… you know, surprised.” you say. 

 

“My bad. I thought it was a good mood for it.” He chuckles, though he takes his arm back and looks away. 

 

The air has grown quiet, and the way that Atsumu is trying so hard not to let you see him pouting has you biting your lip to spare him the laughter. But against your will, a giggle escapes you anyway. Your heart swells a little when you see the tips of Atsumu’s ears turn pink. 

 

Maybe you should remedy that. Leaning in close, until your nose is just barely about to brush his hair, you say softly, “Atsumu.” 

 

He makes a tiny gasp when he turns and sees you so close, looking like he’s struggling to decide whether or not to back away. “W-What’re ya doin’?” 

 

“You’re not gonna try again?” you smile, not moving an inch from your position. 

 

He stares at you quietly for another moment before eventually smiling back, “Well, since ya insisted.” Bringing a hand up to cup your jaw, he pulls you just slightly forward to meet your lips with his. And they’re as warm and soft as you’ve dreamed they were. 

 

He applies just the right amount of pressure for just the right amount of time before pulling away. Then you both look at each other for another moment before sinking right back into one another for another kiss, knowing that you both want one. 

 

It really is as easy as one, two, three. He can tell what you’re thinking and he knows you can tell, so you urge him to follow through. You’ve never had a first kiss with someone that felt like this, as natural as a dance you seemed to know by heart. Maybe it’s because he’s a partner you’ve had for a long time coming. 

 

When you part and look at each other again this time, there’s a new expression you have yet to see on his face. You can’t pinpoint the exact emotion he must be feeling, but you make a guess that it’s similar to the happy wonder you’re feeling right now. When you break the moment with a laugh, Atsumu presses his lips together and looks away, clearing his throat. “That better?” 

 

“Yeah.” you chuckle, stabbing the last piece of takoyaki to bring to your mouth. “Better than in my dreams, even.” 



*



Atsumu actually has training the next day, but he invited you to come watch, so you show up to the MSBY Black Jackals’ gymnasium in the afternoon after you’ve done a bit of exploring on your own in the morning. 

 

It takes you a little while to find the right area, but you eventually are led to the spectator stands where you can sit and watch their practice from above. From what you can tell, they’re working on their combinations. A few spikers are running up at once and you don’t really get the purpose of their timing just by looking at it once, but you can guess it’s meant to throw off the block.

 

The Black Jackals seem to be an all-around energetic kind of team. There are a lot of cheerful members who make just about every landed spike seem like the best point ever. Honestly, they kind of are. You only just picked back up on the sport but these guys are professionals, and they’re jumping and diving and pretty much performing acrobatics on that court down there like it’s nothing. 

 

“Whoo!! Keep ‘em coming to me, Tsum Tsum!” The member with the spiky, silver hair and one of the loudest voices on the team shouts after spiking an inhuman cut shot. 

 

“‘Tsum Tsum’?” You can’t help but snicker. 

 

“Nice~ kill, Bokkun! Super clean.” Atsumu replies. 

 

It’s great seeing how your soulmate interacts with people he’s close to. Atsumu looks pretty friendly — almost sarcastically so — and comfortable with most of his teammates, though he’s relatively serious compared to how playful he usually gets with you. He’s the one who communicates the most to all the members, since he’s basically the one calling the shots with whom he chooses to send the ball to. 

 

You’ve been here for at least ten minutes now and he still hasn’t noticed you, so you assume he’s probably just that focused on his game. But then at some point, when a particularly powerful member lands a spike that sounds as loud as a cannon, it bounces right off from the ground and into the stands a section away from where you are. 

 

“Whoa…” you whisper, eyes chasing the rogue ball as the other Black Jackals are whooping for Barnes, the player who just made that incredible spike. 

 

“Uhm, excuse me!” A staff member from below waves and calls to you, “Sorry to bother you, but would you mind throwing that ball back down to us very quickly?” 

 

“Oh. Sure, of course!” you say, toddling between the somewhat narrow rows to retrieve said ball. After you grab it and toss it over, you hear Atsumu calling your name. 

 

“Glad you could make it.” He’s waving at you with a sweet smile, which is pretty different from how playful and sarcastic he’s gotten with you one on one. But he’s looked like that this entire practice so far. How does he become so innocent and polite when he’s playing volleyball? 

 

“Me, too!” you wave back. You can’t hear what he’s saying from down on the gym floor but you see Atsumu talking to a few of his nearby teammates as he gestures to you. Some of them smile or wave or even call out to you, and you don’t know what to make of it, but a couple of them seem to be giving Atsumu teasing looks or claps on the back, warranting some sort of sheepish response from the setter. 

 

Eventually, he barks at them all to get back to practice and you’re chuckling as you find a new seat closer to where you had just picked up the stray ball. You continue to watch them practice all their drills and play a few sets in different teams before their coach calls them in for a quick roundup meeting to officially end practice. 

 

There are a couple of members who stay back to practice their individual drills, but most of the team retreats into the locker room. You wait at the front lobby area of the building for Atsumu, but it seems he’s brought almost half of his team to meet you. “Hey [Name], thanks for waitin’.” he greets you before gesturing to his teammates. 

 

But before he can get specific with his introductions, that same loud, spiky-haired spiker who called your soulmate ‘Tsum Tsum’ walks up to you first, “Hey, hey, hey! So you’re Tsum Tsum’s soulmate? It’s nice to meetcha!” 

 

“Likewise.” You smile, bowing briefly. “Your spikes were amazing, uh…” 

 

“Bokuto Koutarou!” he puts his hands on his hips, chest out and proud as he laughs, “And thanks! I am pretty good, aren’t I?” 

 

You quickly get introduced to the others who are lingering around; there’s Sakusa Kiyoomi, that quieter, handsome guy who was making a lot of impressive digs, Hinata Shoyo, that really zippy, dynamic player that Atsumu sent a few emergency sets to, Thomas Adriah, the kind-faced guy who made up most of the block formation with another guy, and Inunaki Shion, the team’s libero who you also saw participate in a few attacks for fun during practice. Everyone is quite nice and has a smile full of energy — save for Sakusa who’s got his face hidden in a mask — so you already get the feeling that this is quite a high-caliber team.

 

“Let’s all go get dinner together!” Bokuto suggests, “We’re all super curious about Tsum Tsum’s dream girl.” 

 

You laugh as Atsumu pipes up indignantly, “Come on now, this was gonna be me and [Name]’s time together. We don’t get to see each other often, ya know!” 

 

“You mean aside from almost every night?” Sakusa says. 

 

“Shut it, Omi-kun. You know what I mean. This is only the third time we’re meetin’ in person.” Atsumu explains. 

 

“It’s okay, I don’t mind going for dinner with everyone.” you interject. 

 

“Oh. Are ya sure?” Atsumu asks. 

 

“Yeah, I mean, I wanna get to know your team too.” you smile around at everyone, “Plus, I just watched you guys play for the past couple hours. I’m sure there’s more to know about everyone than just how well you play.” 

 

“Well, if yer okay with it…” 

 

“Woohoo! Let’s go!” Bokuto shouts, pumping his fist high into the air, “Barbecue!!!” 

 

“Woohoo!!” A couple other members cheer as well at the prospect of barbecue before they all start walking towards the door. 

 

Atsumu walks beside you, “If ya feel weird about anything, just say so. They’re a wild bunch, so they can get into your business pretty fast.” 

 

“But they’re good people, aren’t they?” you ask, chuckling.

 

“Eh… most of ‘em.” He shrugs, “Still, don’t feel bad about sayin’ somethin’ if ya start to get uncomfortable.” 

 

“Will do, Tsum Tsum.” 

 

Atsumu’s face freezes before he breaks out into a laugh, “Don’t tell me yer gonna actually start callin’ me that from now on.”

 

“It sounded cute, I wanted to give it a try.” You shrug.

 

“How ‘bout ‘Tsumu’? It’s my preferred nickname if yer gonna use one.” 

 

“‘Tsumu.’?” You test it out, and it feels fittingly more casual than his full name. You do like his full name, but you could make do with this one too. “Thanks for inviting me to watch your practice, ‘Tsumu.” 

 

“O-Oh. Uh—” He looks away for a quick second, surprising you with his flustered reaction. Isn’t he the one who proposed that name? “Yeah, I’m glad ya made it.” 

 

Still, he’s cute like this. You take his hand and hold it as the group walks down the few blocks to get to the nearby barbecue restaurant, sharing idle conversation along the way. 

 

When you’re all seated, however, the grilling begins before the meat even comes out. 

 

“So how is it having to see Tsum Tsum after you go to sleep?” Bokuto is the first to ask. 

 

“Yer makin’ it sound like it’s a total pain!” Atsumu protests immediately.

 

“It’d definitely be a nightmare.” Sakusa comments promptly. 

 

“I don’t think it’d be all that bad.” Hinata interjects, “I had a dream that Atsumu-san tossed to me on the beach before, and it was pretty fun! Though I guess I was confused as to why he was in Rio with me…” 

 

“Eh?? Only Tsum Tsum was in Rio with you?? What about the rest of us?!” Bokuto complains. 

 

“I’m… sorry? I’ll try to dream about everyone there next time!” 

 

“Ah, but beach volleyball only has two players on each side, right? So I guess it makes sense if you had a good setter as your partner. But we’d make a pretty good team too, right Hinata?” 

 

“Yes, Bokuto-san! I’m sure you’d be a great asset even on the beach!” 

 

“This… is a dream you guys are still talking about, right?” Inunaki is the one to ask. You were wondering if you should speak up earlier. 

 

“Ah! Right!” Bokuto turns back to you as if he just remembered you were here, “So [Surname], how long have ya been dreaming about Tsum Tsum?” 

 

The speed at which the topic changes in this group is remarkable, and you’re sure that Bokuto is definitely a main conductor amidst the conversation. You have to be sure to keep up properly. “Uh… since middle school, maybe? He was playing volleyball in his dreams even back then.” 

 

“Really? Was he super good even back then?” Hinata asks. 

 

“Good is… not how I would describe it, per se.” You tilt your head to look at Atsumu beside you, who’s sitting stiffly in preparation for what you may be about to reveal about him. “I mean, it’s a dream after all. It made no sense to me, but sometimes there would be these weird ways he’d power up. Like with robot arms and stuff.” 

 

“Robot arms? Cool!” Some at the table exclaim.

 

“Robot arms…” Others raise their eyebrows. 

 

And so follows many questions where the team tries to get as many embarrassing things about Atsumu out of your dream retellings as they can. Some things you share, others you keep to yourself and Atsumu — who breathes in relief when you spare him — but you do laugh with his teammates at your soulmate’s expense a few times. They all laugh and holler at some of the smallest things, even though he may not have done them in real life. You suppose an embarrassing dream can be as daunting as a dirty secret because it does reveal a bit about a person’s inner mind. 

 

It doesn’t work in his favor as the night goes on and you get a couple drinks in you. You ate your fill but these top division athletes are still going at it, so you’re left to nurse yet another drink as they continue eating. At this point, you’re laughing a lot more at everything the guys say as they make jokes and argue playfully with each other, as well as share their own stories about their dreams with their dream mates. 

 

“It was funny! I met him in high school and then we started dreaming about each other like almost every night. So in school, we’d be doing our own thing, meet during volleyball practice, hang out afterwards, and then we’d meet again even after we got home and do something like open a restaurant or climb the Skytree like King Kong.” Bokuto shares enthusiastically, “One time I dreamed we had a few kids together and he could barely look at me the next day.” 

 

You laugh with him at the thought. You would probably have the same reaction if you had dreamed about having Atsumu’s children and then had to see him the next day at school. Honestly, you’d probably have the same reaction even now. “I bet your dreams never get boring, Bokuto-kun.” you laugh. 

 

“Oh, they’re the best!” He brags, “Sometimes they’re even better than real life — though real life is pretty awesome. Though these days, work keeps him up a lot so I guess I don’t see him as often since we’re not both asleep at the same time.” 

 

“I suppose that’s realistic. Someone worthy of being your soulmate is surely a hard worker.” You say. 

 

“You betcha. He’s amazing! You seem pretty cool too, [Surname]. You’re probably really good at wrangling down Tsum Tsum’s crazy now, huh?” 

 

“What’s that supposed to mean?!” Atsumu demands.

 

“Yeah, I guess you can say I am.” You nod solemnly, and Bokuto laughs along with a few of the others. 

 

“Good for him! And the other day— Ah! Hey, Inunaki, that was my tripe!” When Bokuto suddenly becomes preoccupied by what’s happening on the grill, you turn your attention elsewhere. You’re starting to get used to this manic speed at which things move with this team. 

 

“What about you, Thomas?” You switch over to English to ask the player sitting beside Bokuto. Apparently he’s good enough at Japanese to keep up with the general conversation, but he isn’t as great at speaking yet. “Did you meet your soulmate from your dreams already?” 

 

“Yeah, I did. We’re taking a break though, since she’s back home.” He answers, “We dated when I still played for a team back in my country, but since I moved, we agreed to keep it open for a while. We still meet up in our dreams every so often.” 

 

“Oh, open? How interesting.” As you’re asking Thomas about the dynamics of his relationship with his soulmate, the others who don’t really understand English continue their own conversation and decide they’ll ask for a translation later. 

 

Atsumu, however, seems to be listening raptly to your conversation despite the fact that you know he isn’t very fluent in English. He tries to add a bit to the conversation with a word or unrelated question because he misheard something, but for the most part, he just listens in. You put your hand encouragingly on his leg every time he stutters out a few sentences though. 

 

Hinata is the one who eventually takes over the conversation with Thomas, so Atsumu takes the opportunity to bring your attention back to him, “Yer pretty amazin’, ain’tcha?” 

 

“Don’t tell me you didn’t already think so?” You purse your lips in amusement. 

 

“That’s not it at all!” He objects, “I just didn’t know you were that good at another language. Ya probably got all kinds of talents I don’t know about yet, huh?” 

 

And of course, your slightly fuddled mind has you raising your hand just a little higher up his leg as you tease, “Well, maybe you know… You just haven’t seen them yet.” 

 

“What’s that supposed to mean…” Atsumu narrows his eyes at you as he stops your ascending hand with his own. But before you can open your mouth he interrupts, “Actually, nope. Don’t tell me.” 

 

“Oh?” you raise your eyebrows at him. “Why not?” 

 

He leans in to whisper into your ear, “I’ll find out for myself.” 

 

You wonder what he means by that, but your attention is eventually swept up by the others at the table again, where you join what feels like a bunch of different conversations that bounce from one to another like a trampoline house. It’s both hilarious and hard to keep up, but you’re enjoying it. 

 

It’s easy to see that Atsumu’s sillier side comes out when he’s not on the court with his teammates. While they all respectfully listened to his calls and demands during practice, here they refute, argue, and make fun of a lot of things that he says. You get the feeling that it’s probably because Atsumu is kind of an easy target since his reactions are so much more dramatic. It’s like watching a bunch of his brothers annoy him. 

 

“You should’ve seen him during a fan day we had a little while back.” Inunaki laughs, “He was super depressed because he didn’t get any laughs for this stunt he pulled.” 

 

“What’d he do?” You ask. 

 

“We have this jackal mascot—”

 

“Ah— ba ba bah!! No, ya can’t do that to me, Inu-san!” Atsumu is sticking his arms out in protest, as if to create physical barriers to stop the story from continuing. 

 

“Don’t tell me you’re embarrassed of something you chose to do yourself?” Inunaki taunts. 

 

“It’s not my fault that no one picked up on my joke!” 

 

“Jackal mascot?” You immediately pull one of Atsumu’s arms aside so you can urge Inunaki to continue, “No, this I definitely gotta hear.” Atsumu tries to struggle out of your grip, but you’re feeling emboldened by the beer so you look up at him with a puppy-like pout that you found to be pretty effective with past boyfriends.

 

To your delight, Atsumu’s face freezes before he grits his teeth and his expression darkens, like he’s debating hard about whether or not to let this go on. In the end, with a little extra coaxing with a whiny, “‘Tsumu~” he relents with a regrettable grunt and turns away with a hand over his eyes. 

 

Bouncing back into an eager smile, you turn back to the others at the table, “You were saying?” 

 

After a few quiet ‘whoa’s and chuckles from the others who just watched you tame Atsumu into letting you hear a likely embarrassing story about him, Inunaki goes on to tell you about how during their last fan day, Atsumu had tried to pull a joke on his own by taking their mascot’s costume and dancing around during the last event before anticlimactically revealing himself. Unfortunately for him, he didn’t receive the reaction he was hoping for and ran off in embarrassment afterwards and was depressed about it for days afterwards. 

 

You can’t not see this for yourself after they’ve revealed it to you, so Bokuto brings up the video on his phone for you to see. Atsumu tries to block it from your view in a futile attempt to salvage what’s left of his dignity, but you shake him off and dash over to the other side of the table so you can watch from Bokuto’s phone with him. 

 

Not even two minutes later, you’re clutching your belly, Bokuto’s shoulder, the back of Hinata’s chair, the wall, anything to stabilize yourself as you’re thrown into fits of laughter from what you saw on the video. 

 

It was definitely a surprise to see your usually cool, put-together, smooth-talking, waking Atsumu pop his head out of a black jackal mascot costume with his usually styled-up hair plastered to his forehead and greeted with complete silence to his joke. It got funnier when he ran off screaming backstage. 

 

“Oh, but he worked really hard for the dance though! Here, look!” Bokuto pulls up another fan day video for you to see, this time where Atsumu and a few of the other MSBY Black Jackals are dressed up in colorful bodycon suits — skirts, pumps, wigs, makeup and all — and dancing to a few 80s pop songs. 

 

“Bokkun, why are ya doing this to me?!” Atsumu jumps to his feet, trying to snatch at his phone again. But you’re not even watching it anymore because you’re leaning against the wall behind you because you’re losing the strength in your legs to hold yourself up. Laughing is starting to hurt, but you can’t stop since the beer in your system makes everything so much funnier. 

 

No doubt your table is making a huge ruckus right now, what with you and a few others laughing like hyenas, Atsumu shouting and being held back by a teammate for attempting to break Bokuto’s phone, and at least one member trying to tend to the chaos. Thomas is the one who catches you when you’re about to slide right off the wall from your weakened legs and helps you back to your seat. You thank him weakly as you try to regain your breaths and rest your overworked lungs. 

 

It takes about a minute of concentrated breathing, but when you’ve calmed and your belly and head no longer ache from laughing, you rub your hand along Atsumu’s back soothingly before taking one of his hands he’s using to hide his face. When he gives you a pitiful look like he has nothing left to redeem himself, you just say, “You’re a pretty funny guy, ‘Tsumu.” 

 

“Right?” Bokuto laughs, “Tsum Tsum’s kinda weird sometimes, but I guess you must be used to it, huh [Surname]-chan?” 

 

“Well, I guess I have seen some weirder stuff in our dreams.” You laugh. 

 

“Your tolerance is commendable.” Sakusa comments, “I gave up on him when he started putting wasabi on his pizza.” 

 

“Wait, what?” You blink. 

 

“Oh yeah, that’s true! I get that you like a little kick, Tsum Tsum, but wasabi on pizza is totally weird!” Bokuto agrees. 

 

“I tried it once!” Hinata comments, “It wasn’t bad but I wouldn’t eat it again.” 

 

“Will ya all stop it?? Haven’t I suffered enough tonight?!” Atsumu cries out.

 

“‘Tsumu…” you put your hand on his upper arm. He looks like he’s about to cry when he turns to face you this time. But then you say, “I also put wasabi on my pizza…” 

 

“Wait.” He blinks back at you. “Really?”

 

“Really?” The others at the table are just as shocked. 

 

“Yeah.” You chuckle, “I put it on a lot of things, really. My friends think I’m weird for carrying a little tube of it around with me, but doesn’t it make the eating experience more interesting?” 

 

In a flash, Atsumu pivots in his seat to fully face you, catching your hand that was just on his arm in both of his. And he’s looking at you like you’ve just saved reputation and his family, “You are my soulmate.” 

 

“Booooo~” The others call or groan at you two. 

 

“You two deserve each other then.” Sakusa sighs as he takes another bite of meat while everyone else begins arguing about what wasabi can and can’t be added to. 

 

This time, you fight for Atsumu’s honor alongside him. It’s not hard to feel confident arguing when you’re still intoxicated on alcohol and a week’s worth of laughter buzzing in your body. 

 

By the time everyone calls it a night, you’re still walking funny on your own. So you lean half of your weight on Atsumu as he takes you back to your hotel by taxi. You’re still giggling between most of your sentences, so you’re not surprised at yourself when you invite Atsumu to your room. 

 

You are surprised, however, when he takes you all the way through the lobby and elevator to drop you off at your room only to leave you with a short kiss, “Ask me again next time. When you’re sober.” 

 

He makes to move back into the hall, but you keep him close by holding onto the lapels of his jacket. You pout up at him, “Are you gonna say yes next time?” 

 

“I’ll think about it.” He smirks. Then he comes in for another short kiss. “G’night, [Name].” 

 

As he walks off towards the elevators again, you say, “Maybe I’ll see you tonight anyway.” before closing your door. 

 

It’s not until you’re collapsed in your bed about an hour later that you realize you should’ve kissed him back. 



*



You’re already waiting for him after you’ve fallen asleep. This time, atop a ferris wheel where you can see all the commotion happening around the big carnival being held. The loud, exciting energy does feel reminiscent of the evening you just had with Atsumu’s team. 

 

You can’t say how long you’ve been waiting, but you know that when the door opens to your cabin that he’s going to come through. It was only a few hours ago that you last saw him, but it feels much different seeing him here this time. Calmer, ironically enough. 

 

“Took you long enough.” You say as he takes a seat beside you and looks around out the windows of your cabin. 

 

“My bad.” He smiles back, scooting close to you and wasting no time to put an arm around your shoulders. You think he’s going to add something else but he must not care for small talk tonight because he comes right in for a kiss. 

 

It escalates quickly, and he works his lips and tongue around your mouth to get you panting in minutes. You moan when he grips onto your thigh to pull one leg over to him so you can straddle his hips on the bench. “Mmph! ‘Tsumu.” you gasp as you regain your footing. 

 

Atsumu moans back, pulling you closer by your thighs until there isn’t an inch of space between your bodies, “Say it again.” 

 

“Mm— Mmph. Again? You mean ‘Tsumu’?” You try to get a question in between kisses. 

 

“Mmh, again.” He says against your lips, quite counterproductive to his request, but you find an opportunity to do it anyway. 

 

“‘Tsumu~” you sing a bit, teasing. But he doesn’t bite the bait this time, just keeps kissing you and touching your body all over until eventually, you’re lying on top of him on the cabin bench, still rotating around in the sky. And no matter how many revolutions, he doesn’t seem to get tired of asking you to say the same thing. 

 

At some point, you can’t help but laugh. “You like it when I call you ‘Tsumu that much?” 

 

He sighs in response, “To be honest, I wanted to do this when I heard you say it the first few times. I didn’t expect the team to hijack ya for dinner.” 

 

“Oh? If you were so eager to do something, why didn’t you just accept my invitation to spend the night?” you ask. “Should’ve just called you ‘Tsumu right then.” 

 

He groans.

 

“I definitely would’ve had a harder time turnin’ ya down. Guess I’ll just make up for it by makin’ you scream it all night here instead.” He smirks, running his hands up the backs of your thighs to grab your ass. 

 

“There ya go, being all horny again.” You giggle. Obviously, you’re not any better, but you couldn’t help the thought that popped out of your mouth. 

 

“I can’t help it with you.” He admits, one hand sliding innocently up your back to rest at your neck, “You’re freakin’ cute all the time already. And when you were gettin’ all drunk and flirty with only me in front of everyone else, I thought my heart mighta burst a pipe.” 

 

Wow. That’s a lot more than you expected him to say. It sure is a lot more than you would probably have gotten from waking Atsumu. To think that guy was trying to hide all the hilarious things he’s done for his fans from you while this guy is just confessing his thoughts without so much as a blush. 

 

“Is it easier for you to say these things to me in here?” you laugh. 

 

“A lotta things’re easier in here. But it’s not like I have complete control over what I say or do for you here.” He hugs you closer, “It sucks how much of my lame side you’ve seen, but I can’t hide how I feel about ya when we’re in here, I guess.” 

 

You giggle as you hug him back, “I kinda like your lame side. It makes me laugh. Heck, even your ‘cool’ side makes me laugh.” 

 

“What?!”

 

You reassure him with a kiss. “Besides, it’s not like you don’t see embarrassing sides of me in here too. Dreams are a two-way street, lame as it is.” 

 

“Well… it’s not all bad.” Atsumu maneuvers his hands to push you up to sit on his hips again, then runs them up to open your shirt, revealing a fancy little ‘Tsumu~♡’ tattooed along the upper swell of your breast. As hot as your face feels at the sight of his name printed on your skin, you don’t absolutely hate it. Though it’s clear who, out of the two of you, added this little body modification when Atsumu runs his thumb along the cursive print, “There are some plus sides to it too.” 

 

That, there are. So you spend the majority of your night taking advantage of them.




***




It’s a while before you get to see him again after that visit. You get busy after you’re assigned to be an assistant for a big project happening for the company, and though it’s an amazing opportunity for someone who’s still just starting out, it’s also very clear that you are expected to bust your ass harder than you may even be prepared for. Honestly, you don’t feel totally equipped to be completing a lot of these tasks given to you, but your superiors insist that you’ll easily pick things up along the way — translation for they’re short-handed in that department and need you to learn on the fly. 

 

If it weren’t for the fact that you like being around this project team and you’d be first in line for promotion after its completion, you’d consider dropping out. Atsumu is getting a bit worried for you because most of your dreams are spiraling back into stress-induced nightmares and there’s only so much he can do to calm you before you’re thrown back into the waking world where you’ll have to start rolling the real giant boulder up the mountain again. 

 

He does provide you reprieve at the end of the day though, sometimes even before you go to sleep. He calls you some evenings to let you rant about your problems, and makes you forget about said problems when he rants about his own totally unrelated ones — like perfecting a hybrid serve? It sounds ridiculous to you when he’s already one of the top servers in the nation, but it’s a legitimate worry for him, so you’re happy to provide an ear for his (whiny) woes. 

 

Sometimes he makes suggestions like designating a movie or show together. He’ll tell you to have watched it by the weekend so you can make sure to schedule time to unwind and have something new to talk about with him next time he calls. You appreciate the effort, so you do your best to watch with him, sometimes watching in parts because you don’t have time or energy to finish it in one go. 

 

There have been nights where you and Atsumu end up talking for hours about the show and shopping for merchandise online together, and there have been times where you fell asleep early instead. Nonetheless, it’s a nice way for you two to bond even when you’re apart during the day. It’s funny how close you feel to him and how much you already miss him despite only having met him in person a few times. 

 

Even if you miss him during the day, he’ll appear to you every other night or so, telling you about his day like he would on a phone call even though you’re being booed at onstage at your company’s big presentation fair or you’re dangling from a helicopter to manually write your promotion ad in the sky since apparently your company wanted to have a skywritten ad but didn’t have enough money in the budget to afford it. 

 

He’s a calming presence amid the chaos of your nightmares, even when he’s screaming at you from 17,000 meters in the air to ask, “Can I try it?!” pointing at the cloud gun or whatever contraption it was you were holding to write in the sky — how your brain worked into thinking they couldn’t afford an actual aircraft with a smoke generator but could afford an imaginary cloud gun is beyond you — and he spells out something that makes you laugh. You can’t recall what it is the next morning, but it at least relieves you a bit from the stress of your evening. 

 

And of course, there are nights where you find yourselves in yet another hot and heavy scenario, aggressively playing out new kinks you discover in one another. Sometimes they involve weird fantasy elements that definitely can’t be reenacted in real life, like prehensile tails or monster transformation serum. So those wet dreams made other scenarios like fucking in the middle of a pond under the moonlight seem utterly romantic. 

 

“Ya know, seein’ you ride me while ya got a halo and angel wings on is sweet an’ all,” Atsumu says one dreamy night as he lays beside you at the edge of a lake, with an arm propping up his head so he can look at you while he strokes one of your wings, “But I’d honestly rather see you tryna bump my serves in person instead.” 

 

You laugh, “You serious? I literally just flew down from the sky to suck your dick right under the eyes of the gods and you’re thinking about me falling on my ass trying to bump your serves? Volleyball really is your life.” 

 

“That’s not it, [Name].” He scoffs, “I mean I just haven’t seen you since… y’know, the last time you visited Osaka. And you never have time to hang out with me when I offer to come up to Nagoya.” 

 

“That’s not my fault, ‘Tsumu.” you sigh, “You know it’s been crazy busy for me here. It’s not like I don’t want to hang out with you, but this project is important to me now.” You know you could have phrased it better, but it’s harder to frame your words when you’re dreaming. Nonetheless, Atsumu’s pout is enough to make you want to cushion the blow, so you bring a gentle hand up to caress his cheek, “I’ll come see you when things slow down. I promise.” 

 

He’s like a child sometimes, with how easily accepts your word. You wouldn’t be surprised if he’s gotten hurt in the past because of that. Not that you want to set yourself up to hurt Atsumu either, because the way he leans down to kiss you afterwards tells you just how much he trusts you now. 

 

Neither of you have spoken about what your relationship is so far, probably because there hasn’t been enough interaction outside the dreamscape to consider it to be much. Though it sure feels like you’re dating in your dreams and it’s clear that you like each other. There just hasn’t been an opportunity to build on it in the real world. And sometimes, you can’t help but wonder if this is enough to maintain something more. 

 

You know Atsumu a lot better now than you did several months ago. Sometimes you feel like you get to know him a lot more throughout the course of one night after a particularly adventurous dream. But still, you know that dream Atsumu has another side to him. And you can’t let yourself fall into the assumption that knowing one side of Atsumu is enough to know all of him. Waking Atsumu is farther from your reach, but you still need to spend time with him. Make time for him. 

 

Of course it proves a hard task when work has kept you way too busy to make time to meet up with him in Osaka, and left you too tired to invite him back to Nagoya to hang out in person as well. And Atsumu is starting to have less free time of his own these days with volleyball and promotional gigs picking up. So it’s honestly a goddamn miracle that you both happen to be traveling for work in the same city again some time a few weeks later. 

 

For the past week, you’ve been traveling with your company all over the country to give presentations to different business conventions, fairs, universities, and so many other events. The project is obviously ongoing and will be based on the success of outreach from this point forward, but the bulk of building for the launch is finally over with, so you’ve been able to take up a more lax role during this kind of countrywide business tour. 

 

One of the last stops is in Tokyo, which is where the national volleyball team is having a training camp for the upcoming Olympics at the same time. And what’s truly crazy is… your soulmate is on that team. 

 

You know Atsumu is good at volleyball; you’ve seen it with your own eyes. But to think that he and his friends that you met are all good enough to make it to the Olympic team… Maybe you should reevaluate just how amazing that guy from your dreams really is. 

 

“Aww, ya ain’t gotta keep sweet talking me like that.” Atsumu coos from his spot beside you at the bar. 

 

You invited him for a drink in the lounge of your hotel since you had to have dinner with your team to celebrate a successful presentation today. Unfortunately, this is the only bit of time you have to hang out with him while you are both in Tokyo because after a few meetings tomorrow morning, you and your team will be off to Sendai in the afternoon. How ironic that even when you’re in the same city as your soulmate, you have to scrape for crumbs of time to spend with him. 

 

“But I mean— Come on. I met you in this very city — in a hotel not unlike this one — just about a year ago. And I’ve been dreaming about you for the past, what, ten years? How the heck was I supposed to expect that this obnoxious catgirl pervert was gonna be an official setter for the Olympic team?” Your praise swims unfiltered right out of your mouth because you’ve already had a couple refills.

 

“Shaddup, you don’t hafta make your compliments backhanded all of a sudden.” He nudges your arm with his elbow, sipping at his own drink. If you’ve got enough of your wits about you, you’d say he’s feeling a little tipsy already too. 

 

“Still,” he continues, looking down at the drink in his hand, “Sucks that we’ve only met a few times in the past. Work’s been doin’ overtime to cockblock us, huh?” 

 

“Hmm~?” You tease, “What happened to ‘my life and the career I’ve built comes before my soulmate’?” You’re paraphrasing, but that was essentially the message he gave you the first time you decided to meet each other again. You couldn’t possibly forget that initially intimidating aura he had when he first warned you not to get too expectant of him, only to find out that he himself can be rather needy. 

 

“Well, I mean—” The way Atsumu always gives himself away with his automatically defensive and sheepish reactions still makes you laugh, makes you feel warm. “I mean I’m glad you’re busy. And that I’m busy. It’s great that we’re both doin’ good, but still. I was just startin’ to get to know you better and now I’m just spendin’ a lotta my time missin’ ya.” 

 

You blink up at him, observing his expression. That was rather honest of him. More honest than you expected from waking Atsumu, at least. Maybe the alcohol is making him a bit loose-lipped too. Regardless, it makes you kind of happy to hear that. Probably because you feel the same. 

 

“Ya really miss me?” You try to imitate his dialect a bit. 

 

He rolls his eyes but he’s smiling when he looks at you. “Well, yeah.” 

 

You scoot your bar stool just a bit closer to him so you can lean a bit of your weight against his arm, “Well, I miss ya too.” You say before tapping your cheek against his shoulder. You’re a bit warm from the drinks but Atsumu’s body still runs pretty hot. He’s barely a degree cooler than your face. 

 

He looks at you for a few heavy seconds before smirking, “You should keep talkin’ like that. If you practice enough, ya might start to sound like my gran.” 

 

He laughs when you hit his thigh in retaliation. “Don’t make it weird. What if I started talking like this while we were dreaming? Bet you wouldn’t find me so sexy then.” You snort. 

 

“Nah,” he replies immediately, pulling you closer to his body heat when he brings his arm around your shoulders, “You’d still be you, even if ya sounded like a grandmother.” 

 

You laugh with him for a while longer, for a few more drinks. Way more than either of you should be having when you know you both have work tomorrow. But neither of you can seem to bring the night to an end. Even though it’s been a good several months since you last met in person, it took no effort at all for you and Atsumu to realign your energies and banter at the same pace. 

 

It’s so easy, being with him. You don’t want to give all the credit to the fact that you’re soulmates, but you can’t deny the natural synergy between you, the way it feels like there’s a chemical reaction that starts and builds whenever you’re around each other. You haven’t been around each other long enough to really test how strong the reaction could be, but there’s something bubbling underneath the surface of all the giggles and touches tonight. And you know that if you turn it up just a degree too high, the heat could convert straight into something more… electric. 

 

Maybe you should be careful about playing with fire, or feelings, or soulmates. Especially when you know this isn’t a dream you’ll wake up from tomorrow morning. But when the bartender tells you that they’ll be closing for the night, and Atsumu walks you back up to your room again, you don’t let him leave this time. 

 

How could you? He’s as drunk as you are right now. That was clear when he pressed the wrong button three times in the elevator despite you repeating the same floor number each time. And he was trying to put on a bluff, but you know that neither of you were walking a straight line down that hallway on the way to your room. 

 

So you pull him inside, give him one of the bottles of water to chug, and promptly collapse on your bed without looking for pajamas to change into. At this point, you know you don’t have the energy to start anything else, even if Atsumu wanted to, because your vision starts to become blurry as your eyelids grow heavier. You manage to keep them open long enough for Atsumu to decide to lie down beside you on the bed, mirroring your position as he faces you. 

 

You know he’s about to say something snarky, but the exhaustion seems to be catching up to him too, making his jaw heavier. You chuckle to yourself as you think about sleep being the only thing powerful enough to shut Miya Atsumu up. He’s asking you what’s so funny when your eyelids close on you for the last time, their weight too heavy for you to open them again. 

 

The next thing you’re aware of after some passage of time has moved, is that you’re already kissing Atsumu. Not just kissing, you’re full on making out with him — hot and heavy, hanging off of him with a leg around his waist and all. You don’t know how this started, but the only thing that you know is important right now is the need burning in your core. A need that stokes flames hotter than your body can withstand. A need that only he can extinguish. 

 

“Hose me down.” you groan as you pull away for a breath. 

 

“What?” He laughs between your desperate kisses. And it’s only when you’re pulling down his extremely heavy jacket that you realize he’s in a firefighter uniform. 

 

“Oh, what. Okay, I didn’t mean it literally, but you’re pretty hot in suspenders.” You slip your hands underneath the thick, red elastic and pull, dragging your hands down along the length of the suspenders before letting them slap back against the tight, navy shirt hugging his chest. 

 

“Ow!” Atsumu whines as he rubs at his pecs, “What was that for? And why did ya make me a firefighter?” 

 

“Because, officer,” you slip off the coat you’re wearing to reveal something that makes Atsumu’s breath hitch in his throat. You have no idea what it is, but you know that if you break eye contact, you’ll lose the speed you’re gaining. So you don’t look down, just keep your attention locked on him, and his deliciously tight shirt, “There’s a fire in my pussy that I need you to put out…” 

 

Atsumu doesn’t take long to switch gears and play along, “Then I’m gonna need to assess the hazard, miss.” He picks you up by your thighs and wraps them around his waist to carry you a few steps forward until your back is against a wall. 

 

No, not a wall. The side of a firetruck. While Atsumu attacks your neck, you get a glance at the large red truck you’re being propped against in what looks to be an empty highway road. There isn’t another car or soul for miles — and luckily, no actual fire either. 

 

“Mm, did you drive this truck all the way out here by yourself just to save me, ‘Tsumu?” you chuckle. 

 

He pulls away from where he’s leaving kisses on your collar to kiss you deeply on the mouth, “Ya know I would for you, baby.” He rasps before he jerks his hips up against you, rubbing his rough bunker pants against your… bright, red-laced body. 

 

So that’s what caught Atsumu’s attention earlier. You’re wrapped up like a gift, covered in red ribbons the same shade as the firetruck that are held together with some lace and gold buckles. Your torso and crotch are just barely covered by the daring ensemble, and Atsumu can’t seem to stop staring as he continues rutting his hips against you. “Fuck, you’re goddamn sexy. I want you so bad.” He starts panting. 

 

“Mmm, ‘Tsumu…” you whine, grinding down to get just a bit closer to the monster that’s hidden behind those thick bunker pants. The tent you’re all but sitting on is enough for your mouth to start salivating in excitement. 

 

He kisses you roughly, tongue digging relentlessly inside your mouth to draw you out for a fight. You have no choice but to throw yourself into the ring and kiss back, biting, sucking, licking with a fervor to match his. It’s messy and wet and sloppy, but not enough. Not at all enough. 

 

Atsumu moves himself to your jaw and neck with a growl, sucking harshly as your hips keep trying to jump down on him. The front of his pants are currently being soaked through by the slick forming between your legs, already having soaked through the stain covering your crotch. The more you grind on him, the more you know will leak through, and maybe get you a better view of the bulge he’s hiding behind those thick pants. 

 

It makes you work twice as hard to hump yourself against him so that he’ll keep grinding back, so he’ll finally want to take it out and soak his flesh in your slick himself. You know you have to keep churning it out, making yourself as wet as possible. Something in your brain is just telling you that it’s going to be bigger this time, gargantuan. Something that could very well destroy you by literally tearing you apart from the inside. 

 

And you want it. 

 

“‘Tsu— ‘Tsumu, please.” you beg, though your hands are already working on the complicated buckles and buttons of the pants that keep him locked away from you. 

 

“S’matter, baby? S’there somethin’ ya want?” He purrs against your neck, letting you struggle on your own to get his pants open. 

 

“Y-Yes. I… I want…” You continue to stutter as you get just another button closer. You’re almost there — who told your subconcious to be so fucking accurate with the pants design anyway? 

 

“Whaddaya want now? Hmm?” He finally pulls back to show you just how wide his eyes have blown out. You can barely see the ring of warm brown near the edges of his pupils. “Tell me.” 

 

“I— I—” You’re busy is what you are. You’re about to celebrate when you’ve finally gotten his goddamn bunker pants loosened to the point where you can pull his dick out and fuck—  

 

When you look down, you swear the upper half of your face must be lost to how wide your own eyes must have blown open. He’s the size of a fucking mammoth. You’re not fucking kidding, you have to use both of your hands to pull him out of his pants, “A-A-Atsumu…” you drool, absolutely incoherent from the sheer weight of his elephant trunk-sized cock that you lay along your stomach. 

 

You had a feeling that he’d be huge this time around — you’ve taken plenty of liberties with his dick size in dreams past — but this was hilarious. The only place you’ve ever seen a cock this huge is in animated porn or artwork, maybe in video games where half-naked heroines are fucked by monsters (a fantasy Atsumu may or may not have indulged you in before), where the dick that’s supposed to go inside of you is probably half the size of your own torso. 

 

There is no way that a cock of this dimension would exist anywhere outside of fiction and human imagination, let alone be able to fit inside of something as cramped and pocket-sized as your pussy. Yet somehow, you just know, you know that this tree trunk is going to fit perfectly inside you. You know that Atsumu is going to make it work. 

 

“Damn, talk about great expectations…” Atsumu chuckles as he watches you caress the enormous extra limb sitting between your chests like it’s a pet. 

 

You don’t have the words to say much else because you just want to make contact with this beautiful cock as quickly as possible — preferably introducing it to your cervix. So you lean down and give the comically large and engorged red tip a few kisses, and then start to lick around it like it’s a jawbreaker candy. With a little bit of effort, you get your jaw to open as wide as it can to swallow around the little monster, only just cap the tip with the edges of your lips. 

 

Your mouth can’t fit around him… It makes your core tremble and your lower lips pulse in excitement. You can’t take it, the suspense is killing you, “Oh, ‘Tsumu, please! Hurry.” You whine, throwing your head back as you push your hips against him so that he might step back and give you room to land on your feet. 

 

He does just that, but instead of letting you catch your balance, he swings you right around and crushes your chest into the sparse flat surface available on the side of the truck, “Oh? Guess you’re in a bit of a rush, huh, cutie? Ya must really got a big emergency going on down here.” He presses you into the truck with his chest and rubs his mutant cock between your ass cheeks. 

 

When he brings a hand around to touch you with his rough fingers, he moans along with you as he feels just how wet you are. “ Fuck . You’re real worked up, ain’tcha honey? Wanna tell me your troubles?” He fingers you as he asks, curling in and out way too slowly for your liking. 

 

“‘Tsumu— please. Don’t tease me any more. I want— I want—” You tremble, hands scrambling for purchase against the side of the truck with no relief to be found. 

 

“What is it that ya want?” He leans in to growl into your ear, pushing your chest just a bit harder against the truck, “Tell me.” 

 

“Ahh!” You scream, bucking your hips into his hand when he curls just a little further up near a sweet spot. “Atsumu! Fuck— I want—”

 

“Come on, out with it. I ain’t got all day.” 

 

“I want your cock! Please! Hurry.” You all but sob, sticking your ass back into him, needing him to be closer, deeper, inside . “Your cock… please… please.” 

 

“Oh, this lil ol’ thing?” His voice is buzzing as he pulls his hips back to dig his tip a little more directly between your cheeks. “Shoulda just told me earlier.” 

 

But when he starts making threatening cants to move in from where he is, your breath catches in panic. No, that’s not going to put out the fire you want at all . “No! Wait!” You beg. 

 

“S’matter, baby? Isn’t this fatass monster cock what ya wanted?” He teases, still pretending to slide in but angling himself to push upwards at the last second. 

 

“Ye—Yes, but… Not there.” You gasp, finding it hard to breathe with how hard you’re being pressed into the side of this firetruck and getting delirious from trying to think through your desire. 

 

“Oh? Then where?” 

 

Fuck that fucker. He’s having a big old ball watching you suffer trying to use words properly. What more do you have for him when your brain is all but a grain of sand being washed over by the high tide of lust. Looks like you’re not gonna get anywhere without embarrassing yourself a bit. So with your face turning the same color as your outfit and the truck you’re being rubbed against, you heave a desperate shout, “My pussy! Please , daddy, in my pussy. I need you so bad.” 

 

And for good measure, you arch your back and stick your ass out further so that your wet slit can make contact with his billiard-sized balls. 

 

“Shit, baby—” Atsumu groans, pulling back for an agonizing second to readjust his point of entry. “You’re always remindin’ me what a little freak ya are—” He’s interrupted by your pained/pleasured cry into the air when that delicious tower of a cock breaks into your walls. “I love it.” He hisses. 

 

“AGH!!” Oh my god, he’s big. He’s big, he’s big, he’s BIG!!!! You’re full, you’re so full. You’re so packed to the brim that you feel like the tip of his cock went barreling right through your fucking organs and could touch the back of your throat from the backside, goddamnit . How do your lungs even have room to breathe right now?!?! “Atsumu!!” You scream. 

 

“Who’s Atsumu?” He teases through his grunts, moving back and letting your organs breathe again but making you feel like you’re rapidly losing something you direly need all the same. “Thought I was Daddy.” 

 

“Ahhh!!!!” You can’t even respond properly because you’re screaming, clenching around him with your entire motherfucking body to get him to stay. 

 

“Uh… you’re screaming because you like it… right?” Atsumu asks, hesitating to move back in when his monster cock is only connected by the tip. 

 

“Daddy…” you groan, using all your willpower to turn back to show him your face. You’ve lost all control of your facial muscles and you feel puffy, hot, and teary-eyed, but most of all needy. So you’re sure that Atsumu can read that on your face when you turn to beg him with your eyes, because the way he gulps nervously shouldn’t make this too much harder for you. “Your cock… Don’t hold back…” 

 

The shaky dilation in his eyes is the last thing you see before your eyes clamp shut at the way his beast dick slams back into you without another word. “Fucking— Shit , baby! How can ya say that to me?! Huh?! When yer pussy is this fuckin’ tight— like yer gonna swallow me fuckin’ whole.” Atsumu’s threats are broken and scattered as he batters your guts and continuously throws you against the wall of the truck, “Cock this big and your cunt’s still slurpin’ me up like it ain’t enough.”

 

He pounds and pounds and batters and rams you until you can barely feel your insides anymore. Only his cock, taking up every bit of space inside your body like he’s staking his claim on it from the inside. He slows just a few beats so he can gruffly pant against your ear, “Can’t say I dislike that hunger in ya, babe.” 

 

“Daddy…” Your mouth can’t shape any other words from your brain right now. All the words in the world, and that’s the only one that his baseball bat of a dick knocks out of you, over and over again. Until you get sick of it. Until he decides he’s had enough. 

 

“Grrr-ah!” He grunts roughly, sliding all the way out of you and making you cry out before he grabs you by a few ribbons on your outfit, and all but throws you onto your back on the asphalt. Before you can whine, he’s back on you, sticking his long, thick, and now very wet cock right back inside of you without a hint of resistance. 

 

You both curse at the new angle he reaches inside of you in this position. It’s higher, it tickles at your chest from the inside. You swear your ribs are rearranging on their own to make way for him. “Fuck.” Atsumu growls as he pulls the red suspenders down and gives you a wonderful show of pulling off the tight, sweat-soaked shirt over his head to toss aside. 

 

“Oh, daddy…” You lick your lips at the sight of his shimmering torso, your body pulsing along with it for Atsumu to feel your appreciation. 

 

He scoffs, a smirk pulling at one side of his face, “Look at you, like a piece of fine art.” He leans down and somehow pulls a few ribbons from around your shoulders to slide down the length of your arms until they converge at your wrists, where Atsumu pulls and tightens them together. “For my eyes only.” 

 

You blink, slack-jawed at how he improvised the hand restraints right from your lingerie. The fact that the ribbons binding your wrists are still connected to the fabric near your shoulders automatically makes your back arch up when Atsumu brings your wrists above your head. The ribbons constrict your body and make you bend and arch deeply, effectively changing the angle of how his cock rests inside of you too. 

 

You’re crying out in howls, eyes tearing but body on fire; delicious, tantalizing fire. “Oh my god, ‘Tsumu, you—” 

 

He interrupts you with a harsh thrust into the wide gaping hole that is now your pussy, “Try to have some consistency now, babe.” The way he looks down at you, smirking as his hands dig your wrists harder against the asphalt, makes you tremble. 

 

“D-Daddy…” You stutter, “Sorry.” 

 

“Mm, good.” He praises, rolling in a few more gut-moving thrusts, “Don’t go confusin’ yourself now, babe. Otherwise daddy might just take this cock you like so much away.” He pulls out rather slowly this time, adding weight to his words when he pulls even the tip out. 

 

“No, please. I’ll— I’ll be good.” You say. 

 

Atsumu waits a beat before he smiles, humming as he slowly reinserts himself until he’s once again, balls deep inside of you. “I’m sure you will.” He leans in for a long, lingering kiss. Long enough for you to wrap your legs around him to bring him closer since your arms are tied up. Long enough to almost forget that he’s still inside you, waiting to burst. 

 

Long enough for you to wake up gasping beside Atsumu in the bed of your hotel room in Tokyo. You can only imagine Atsumu’s expression reflects your own; wild eyes, red cheeks, chest panting like you’ve just completed a marathon, and body shock still on its side. 

 

You’re facing each other on your bed, sweaty and breaths steaming up the room, but altogether untouched — save for your hands that are laced together between your bodies on the bed. It’s only when you try to loosen your grip a bit that you realize how tightly you were both clutching to each other’s hand. But for some reason, you don’t let go. 

 

“Oh my god…” You say between breaths, staring at Atsumu’s face, unable to look anywhere else despite how embarrassed you feel. 

 

“Yeah…” Atsumu agrees. 

 

That was probably the most lucid, realistic dream you’ve ever had with each other. Everything felt so solid, true to reality. Atsumu’s touch felt a lot heavier than the brushes of sensation you’d usually remember from your dreams. But you’re wide awake now and you feel just as full and hot as you had when you were asleep minutes earlier. 

 

It takes another few minutes for both your breaths to calm down. You roll on your back to make it a little easier on yourself, because looking at Atsumu’s handsome, flushed face while your body is still thrumming with horny energy is not going to help you in any case. You don’t look over to see if he’s done the same, but your hand still lies comfortable tucked into his. 

 

Finally, when you’re both back in your right minds — as much as you can be, at least — Atsumu speaks first, “Wow, that was somethin’.” 

 

God, why did you drink that much? You know that you can be a flirty drunk, which in turn, obviously turns you into a horny drunk, so what did you really expect to come about when you invited Atsumu for drinks in the safety of your own hotel? Did you ask for this? Did you secretly want this? 

 

Flashing back to how you had basically pleaded for Atsumu to do some interior rearrangement in your guts in your dream, maybe the answer is clearer than you can say for yourself. But you can’t say it for yourself, which is why your stupid brain manifested such a thing and outed you in the first place.

 

“Ugh…” you groan, finally pulling your hand away from Atsumu’s to roll on your other side, covering your face with your hands, “Oh my god, I’m so sorry… I’m so embarrassed.” 

 

To your expectation and mortification, Atsumu laughs behind you, only scooting over to press his body against your back. He brings his arm around your waist and presses his nose into your hair, effectively spooning you with a comfortable laugh, “ You’re embarrassed? Shouldn’t I be the one feeling self-conscious about not having some monster dick that you want?” 

 

“Ah! Please!” You squeal, physically cringing at the verbal mention, since it manifests how very real that weird fantasy was and how Atsumu (very eagerly, at least) participated in it. 

 

Atsumu laughs, nuzzling closer to you, his arms wrapping tight around you, acting almost like a physical anchor to keep your soul from escaping your body. And with a little more coaxing, his body warmth, his hold, his voice, his presence all begin to calm you. With a little more banter and whining on your part, and laughing on Atsumu’s, you can bring yourself not to curl up entirely to bury yourself away from your humiliation. 

 

Yeah, you gave Atsumu a monster cock and had him fuck you against a firetruck but he was probably the one who put you in that fancy bondage lingerie set. You’re almost surprised he didn’t give you a collar or tail since you were both indulging so much in your drunk stupors. Honestly, you’re still a little tipsy even now. So you suppose you should be grateful, since you would definitely not be handling this as easily if you were sober. 

 

“But hey,” Atsumu says after a few beats of silence, “Can I try something?” 

 

“What?” You say, still staring at the wall. 

 

Atsumu pulls back from his spooning position and you hold in your whine from the loss of heat. But it’s only a moment before he tries to pull you by the shoulder towards your back so you’ll at least look at him, “I wanna kiss you.” He says. “Forreal.” 

 

“O-Oh.” You blink, unable to keep from darting your eyes away with a blush. He wants to kiss you. Forreal. True, you’ve made out a lot in your dreams, but you’ve only ever had a few real kisses and that was weeks and months ago. You’ve never gotten much farther than that, despite how desperately horny you both proved to be in your dreams… 

 

Plus, you’re already this far into the evening with him, and you’re not going to recover your dignity no matter what you try, so maybe it wouldn’t hurt to finally cross that line with waking Atsumu. Slowly, you roll back onto your back and tilt your head on the pillow to face him, studying the curious look in his eyes. 

 

“O-Okay.” You say. 

 

Atsumu’s expression doesn’t change, in fact, it looks rather serious compared to the wildly expressive Atsumu you’ve come to know. But that must mean he’s being extra careful as he props himself on an elbow and cups your jaw with a hand as he leans in. 

 

You don’t realize you’re holding your breath until his lips meet yours and think that your lips should be a little more relaxed. So with a deep sigh through your nose to get rid of the excess anxiety sizzling in your body, you start to kiss him back. His lips are soft, and so is his approach. He approached from the perfect angle and puts just the right amount of pressure against your lips that tells you he knows what he’s doing, and he won’t get caught up in the excitement of what just happened in your dream. 

 

He pulls away with a small smacking sound, holding your eyes in his briefly, but he doesn’t ask permission for the second kiss. Somehow, he knows that you’re okay with it. You’re into it, really. He’s good at this, with how his hand holds your face and his lips press and suck at yours in the perfect intervals, and he lets his tongue and teeth come in for an occasional nip just when you’re least expecting it but end up wanting it most. 

 

Waking Atsumu can kiss. If you’re honest, he’s softer and more patient than dream Atsumu, who’s always quick to get it in. He slowly pulls more kisses out of you, making you want to chase after him just the slightest, drawing out your desire to continue. You don’t even know how much time passes before you start moaning softly into his mouth, unconsciously pushing your chest into him to get closer. He just made the build feel so natural. And when he pulls away, you’re gasping all over again. 

 

“Can I try something else?” He asks between heavy breaths, his hand traveling down to rest at your hip. You bite your lip when his thumb starts moving in small circles around the sliver of skin peeking out from your shirt. 

 

“What?” You dare to ask. 

 

“I wanna touch you.” 

 

“Atsumu, you jerk!” You pout, stuffing your face into the pillow. What are you, back in middle school?! You knew what the answer was, and you still drew back from his honesty like he had whipped you. 

 

Atsumu, however, is undeterred, probably used to your deflections. His hand slides lower, solid but innocent on the side of your thigh as he asks again, “Can I though?” 

 

It takes you a moment to mentally prepare, but eventually, you lift your roll your face up from the pillow to mutter, “...Okay.” 

 

Who are you kidding? There is no way this isn’t happening tonight. It’s clear what you want from each other, so maybe it’s time to stop beating around the bush. 

 

Atsumu moves the hair that fell over your face behind your ear before he comes in to kiss you gently, then lies right back beside you, facing you as his hand begins to migrate. Without looking away from your face, his hand easily unbuttons and unzips your pants so he can press his hand against your navel and slowly slide his fingers down. 

 

They dip beneath your underwear and your eyes flutter closed as he gets closer, closer to the apex of your thighs because you can’t bear to look him in the face as he touches you like this. As he finds out… 

 

“Just as I thought.” He’s smirking when you blink your eyes open, “You’re soaking.” 

 

Well, there’s definitely no denying it, his hand is right there, sliding between your folds like they’re going for a swim. 

 

“Y-Yeah…” you mumble, blushing as you stare down towards the pillow. 

 

Atsumu chuckles gently before he leans in for another sweet kiss, and he says, “Can I do more?” 

 

“...Yeah.” You nod. 

 

His fingers are rough in texture, calloused from years and years of playing volleyball, but pure in strength. They move with sure strokes and start with a pace that you won’t be anything but comfortable with. He takes his time exploring, getting familiar with how your body actually feels and reacts while you’re both awake and very real. So when he starts brushing against a rather sweet spot, you’re once again privy to his subtly demanding touch, predictably moving against him in search of more. 

 

“A-Ah…” you mewl weakly, tired but needy. 

 

Atsumu kisses you when you lie on your back and spread your legs, making it easier for him to move inside of you. “You’re so pretty, babe. It’s so cute when you’re blushin’ like that. ‘Specially when your pussy’s floodin’ out like this.” 

 

If it weren’t for the fact that his lips were holding you captive, you would’ve tried to hide your face away from him. His hands and his words were so sweet, but he took such a sharp turn that your walls couldn’t help but flutter eagerly around his fingers in surprise. You’re sure he felt it. He knows you liked it. 

 

“Ah!” Your voice catches when he touches a spot a bit higher and closer to your navel, sending a shiver through your body and making your limbs tingle. “‘Tsumu! Mmph.” You bite your lip, clutching onto his shirt with your hands as he works that same spot at your reaction. 

 

He chuckles in amusement, “You’re not gonna call me ‘daddy’?” 

 

“Shut up.” You hide your face in your forearms, hands gripping tight to his shirt as his fingers dig and curl into your wet heat, likely spreading and soaking into your panties. 

 

“Got it, yer still shy when you’re awake,” he chuckles, enjoying himself far too much, “But your body sure is honest.” 

 

Yeah, a little too much for your pride to handle. The way your hips jolt up into his hand and your thighs squeeze around his wrist when he digs just a bit deeper all give you away like a flare in the sky. And that doesn’t even touch on how much you’re soaking up Atsumu’s fingers with your arousal that just won’t stop leaking out. 

 

Your embarrassment and ego hold up for as long as they can, but it’s a losing battle once Atsumu decides to start thumbing your clit. You’re gasping as your head is thrown back and your hips jump forward, begging him to stir up that bundle of nerves again. “‘Tsumu…” you breathe, “More…” 

 

“More?” His voice is irritatingly smug, but his hands at least have mercy on you, curling deeply while his thumb rubs round and round to set off the occasional firework in your synapses. 

 

“Y-Yes! Yes!” You whisper frantically, turning your head into Atsumu’s neck, looking for something to bite . “Please…” 

 

The more you talk, the more willing Atsumu seems to comply. He moves his fingers inside you a bit faster, pushing in to the lowest knuckle and rubbing you sweetly into slight blindness. Your voice is breaking as it comes out in fragments of words and sounds, your peak coming in closer and closer. “‘Tsumu, I’m gon— gonna— ahh…!” 

 

“Come on, baby.” Atsumu rasps as he grabs your jaw and tilts your face up to look at him when you try to burrow yourself deeper into his neck, “I wanna see that pretty face of yours when I make you come for the first time.” 

 

You bite your lip, but can’t bring yourself to protest because your orgasm is right there . And if you’re truthful, looking into Atsumu’s unfairly hot face makes it that much easier to come. So with a puff of breath, you relent and relax into your pillow as Atsumu’s fingers work magic on you. In no more than a few seconds, he brings you to that blinding peak you’ve been climbing towards and you come with a loud cry, eyes squeezing shut and back arching up as your walls grip tight around Atsumu’s fingers. 

 

“Agh— Ah— Atsumu…” you squeak, gripping tightly to his shirt the entire time. He keeps moving even as you’re coming, drawing out your peak for as long as he can with a rather… hypnotic look in his eyes. 

 

When your hips finally slow in their jerking and you’ve sunk bonelessly back into the bed, sucking all the remaining oxygen out of the room with your panting, and your walls finish pulsing around his fingers, Atsumu pulls his hand out of your pants and drags a trail of your emission out onto the sheets. He laughs at the sight before bringing his fingers to his mouth for a taste, looking right at you as he sucks at them. 

 

He cleans them off one by one, making sure you’re watching until he’s licked himself clean. He even juts his tongue out to show you he’s swallowed it all, which makes you retaliate with a smack to his shoulder. Atsumu just laughs as he falls onto his back beside you, sounding content with your reaction. 

 

Which can’t be right because a glance downward proves that he is still very much hard and —oh— probably packing a bit of weight to him. Your imagination has run through so many possibilities to what Atsumu’s actual dick looks like, though you’re fairly certain his own projection of himself in your dreams should be accurate enough. But you’ve never seen Atsumu’s real dick with your own eyes before. And you would be lying if you said you weren’t insatiably curious to find out just how much he resembles a monster… 

 

“My turn?” You offer, resting your palm on his inner thigh, the edge of your fingers just barely brushing against that bulge that’s making your mouth tingle with excess saliva. 

 

Atsumu turns to you, brushing your hair out of your face with a smile, “Ya don’t have to. I know you’re tired.” 

 

That’s true. You are tired, especially after several drinks and an orgasm like that. Your day had been packed with both work and social obligations and you’ve got another one coming in hot tomorrow morning. Or possibly in just a few hours depending on what time it is now. 

 

But the tent in Atsumu’s pants is calling to you, and though you just came, you don’t feel completely satisfied just yet. “I can stay up a little longer.” You say, sitting up to pull your shirt over your head. “For you.” 

 

The still shock on Atsumu’s face gives you enough courage to keep eye contact with him as you pull your pants and ruined panties off together. You don’t really have the balls to get completely naked while Atsumu’s still got all his clothes on, so you leave your bra on for a little self preservation. Then you settle yourself between Atsumu’s legs to first run your palms up and around that sensational bulge stretching his pants out. 

 

God, you cannot wait to see it. Your fingers climb up until they’re tucked into the waistband of his sweatpants, and you look up to ask a frozen Atsumu, “May I?” 

 

“O-Oh.” He’s the one who stutters this time. You suppose you can see why he finds it so cute when you do it. “Yeah.” 

 

Then without further ado, the pants come down. You pull them down slowly, savoring the anticipation inch by inch by inch, your mouth watering the further you have to keep moving to set him free. When he finally manages to pop out of his confines, his pants and briefs are already pulled over halfway down his thighs.

 

You are far from disappointed. Though he isn’t the size of a forearm, he is visibly longer and thicker than average. And so, so very pretty. It’s got a nice vein running along the side and bottom, he’s cut cleanly at the tip, and there’s a slightly upward curve that you just know was meant to touch a few sweet spots. You can’t believe he was just born and gifted with such a perfectly shaped penis. 

 

“You gonna be staring all night there, babe?” Atsumu asks. He’s smirking again when you look up at him. God, you must have been taking your sweet time studying him… “Is somethin’ not to your liking?” 

 

There’s that obnoxiously smug look that makes you wanna punch him again. He knows he’s got something to be proud, the fucker. But since he’s been so kind to you all evening, you figure it couldn’t hurt to give him a little praise. 

 

“Not at all,” you smile, running your hands up his strong thighs and planting them on his hips, “It’s a throne fit for a queen.” 

 

And before Atsumu gathers his wits again, you want to claim your seat. So you move to straddle him, mounting yourself right above him as you hold his shaft up with your hand. Atsumu’s hands move quicker than his mouth does and land on your own hips to help you on your way down. You sink onto him slowly, running into no resistance because you are still as wet as a beach shore. And you need to swallow Atsumu up in your tide. 

 

“Ohhhh… my god…” Atsumu moans with you along your descent, his hands gripping tightly to your waist even after you stick your landing. He’s sucking desperate breaths in through puckered lips as you get yourself accustomed to his size, which is more than adequate to fill you up to the brim. 

 

He keeps groaning as you squeeze and grind a bit in your spot, just waiting for the stretch to get a little more comfortable. It’s incredibly entertaining to watch after he had fingered you into mortification earlier. “Doing alright there, daddy ?” You take your chance to look smug. 

 

“[Name]— agh…” His head rolls back, “You’re real fuckin’ tight. Feels so good…” He admits. 

 

So this waking Atsumu seems to have a lot more self control than dream Atsumu does. Usually, when you would fuck in your dreams, he’d waste no time just sticking it in. And because it was a dream, you would magically feel no repercussions or pain from his rough handling. Of course, he didn’t skimp out on foreplay when he was in the mood, but he sure didn’t have as tough a time holding back as he is right now. 

 

Now would be the time to be thankful that Atsumu doesn’t have a gargantuan gorilla cock because there’s already a discomfort that’s hard to hide as he stretches you out. It’s a challenge to make room for all of him as it is. And as sexy as it is to have a soulmate with this kind of cock, it’s not enough to take away the sting of the acclimation period. Probably doesn’t help that you haven’t slept with anyone in a long while. 

 

Still, you’re determined to have a good time now that you’re finally here. So with a deep breath, you relax as many muscles as you can and move your hips just the slightest. You leave Atsumu to groan in the pain of self restraint while you simply get used to him. It’s definitely fun to watch his reactions as you grind yourself just a little and lift yourself up to sink back down slowly — his voice goes a little higher in pitch and everything. 

 

It takes a few minutes, in which Atsumu is good and patient the entire time save for his death grip on your hips, but you think you’re good to go when you’re able to start a slow bounce without any more discomfort. Atsumu is humming in satisfaction. “Babe… god, you’re so sexy.” He finally releases your hips — there are definitely red imprints that will fade into something darker later — to run his hands up your sides and over your cupped breasts. 

 

You hum back, unable to be bothered to reply when you’re finally starting to land in a nice spot that sparks a few nerves. That sweet upward curve is getting close to where you want it to be, you just need to adjust a little more… Maybe like… 

 

You roll your hips forward, upward, around in circles, pushing Atsumu’s tip against every angle you can to find the right one. And you get close! So close! It was like a ghost of a climb towards an orgasm when you leaned back and lifted up. So you start engaging your thighs again to bounce faster, a little deeper, trying to chase that same little spark. “Mmmh!” You groan through a bitten lip when you feel his tip just brush against it once again. But only once. 

 

Atsumu seems to notice your dilemma, probably because he’s been watching you this entire time too, so he grabs you by the shoulders to bring you to lie down on his chest. With a deep kiss and his arms wrapped around your waist, he says to you, “Lemme help ya out a bit.” 

 

What he actually does is more than just help. The way he lifts his hips up and just starts pistoning his dick into you leaves your thighs useless to keep yourself mounted in place. “A-Ah!” You cry, having to push your forearms into the bed and hold onto Atsumu’s shoulders to keep yourself from being thrown forward by his powerful thrusts. 

 

And whoa , he found that spot for you right quick. His lower body barely touches the bed anymore as he keeps you suspended in the air with his relentless hips, stuffing his cock back into you over and over and driving that curved tip right into your g-spot without preamble. You’re thrown into shock each and every time he hits you perfectly, unable to contain your voice when you’re starting to lose spots of vision in your line of sight. “‘T-Tsumu! ‘Tsumu, yes! Oh, yes.” 

 

Atsumu is growling and grunting beneath you, a thin sheen of sweat forming on his face as he works tirelessly into your sweet spot. You reward his efforts with kisses to his face and clenching your walls around him whenever he hits you particularly deep. “Yes!” You gasp out, “‘Tsumu, more. I want it. I love it.” 

 

“I’ma give it to ya, babe.” Atsumu smirks, slowing his pace to pound harder, deeper. “Gonna give ya this big— ungh— fat cock that ya— love so much. Nrgh! Fuck— I love this tight, little, wet thing…” He grunts between thrusts and even spanks you once, which makes you cry out and automatically squeeze around him. “Fuck!” 

 

“‘Tsumu, I’m g-gonna—” You gasp, burrowing your face into his neck, “Gonna come soon…” 

 

It sounds like a plea when it comes out of your mouth. Like you’re begging him, please finish me off. And he’s happy to do so, throwing you onto your back and pulling you closer by your thighs to wrap your legs around his waist. “Shit, baby.” He rasps, leaning down to kiss you briefly before pulling his shirt over his head to toss aside. As frantic as his body moves against you, his kisses are still soft with sincerity. “You don’t know how long I’ve been wantin’ ya like this.” 

 

He’s been wanting you? He’s been having you to his heart’s content in your dreams all this time, but he never made a move on you so far. Has he been thinking about doing this with you for a while now? Has he been hoping for something more too? 

 

“Dreams ain’t nothin’ compared how pretty ya look right now.” He says, rutting slower against you, but still purposefully angling himself upwards so he’ll hit you where you love it. Right on the mark, almost every time. 

 

He’s kissing you when you finally fall over the edge, and your arms are wrapped around him tightly, holding on for dear life — like this might be another dream that’ll escape your grasp if you open your eyes. You whine into his mouth as you roll your hips back against him, wanting him to finish with you, as close to you as possible. 

 

But to your slight disappointment, he pulls away with a pained groan and pulls out of your warm, wet heat to finish on your stomach. You watch with heavy breaths as thin white ribbons continue to paint your skin for the better half of a minute before Atsumu collapses on top of you. 

 

At first, you whine in protest since he’s basically smeared his cum between your bodies like a jam, but his lips are insistent, needy for attention after releasing all that tension that’s been built up for… who knows how long now. So you kiss him back, digging your fingers into his hair and massaging his scalp as he sucks your bottom lip between his, moaning in content. 

 

You think that he might be trying to start another round with how long he kisses you for, but he eventually pulls away with a last chaste kiss to wet a towel and clean you both up. You’re fighting to stay conscious after working so hard for two orgasms after your already packed day, but you manage to keep your eyes half open until Atsumu turns off the lights and brings the covers over the both of you. 

 

It’s all you can do to stay awake until he tucks you into his chest and kisses you goodnight. 



*



Surprisingly, when you’re back in the dreamscape, you’ve returned to the same setting — in the middle of an empty highway with half-naked fireman Atsumu. Only this time, you’re both sitting atop the firetruck and staring at the vast desert landscape around you with an air of calm instead of the previous horny urgency. 

 

Looking down, you see that you’re also still wearing your stringy red ribbon lingerie, though your hands are no longer bound. “Huh. Weird.” You say, looking up at Atsumu sitting beside you, “We don’t really return to the exact same dream we’ve had before.” 

 

“Right?” Atsumu agrees, scooting closer to you and resting a hand on the top of the truck behind your back, “But it feels different. My dick definitely feels lighter this time around.” 

 

You laugh with him at that, though you do smack his thigh anyway. “Can’t believe I’m still seeing you back-to-back after all of that.” 

 

“Don’t tell me you’re sick of me already.” He nudges you. 

 

“Not yet.” You smile, “But at this rate, we’ll really be joined at the hip. Maybe it’s a good thing we don’t live closer to each other. I’d never be able to escape you.” 

 

“Yeah, I guess we all do need our space to breathe, huh?” Atsumu nods, though contrary to his words he brings an arm around your shoulder to pull you closer to him. “I dunno why though, I feel like… I wouldn’t mind being around ya ‘til I got sick of yer face. Is that weird?” 

 

“Yeah.” You say, making Atsumu pout. “But for some reason, I kind of agree with you. Don’t think I’d ever say that about anyone else. But… being around you… feels kind of natural. Even though we didn’t meet until recently and we don’t even see each other in person often, it’s like time never passes when I’m with you.” 

 

Atsumu’s face morphs into something a little more shocked, and you only just realize how your words must have sounded. Ugh, stupid no-filter dream thoughts. 

 

“Sorry,” you turn away, flushing, “that was kind of cheesy, wasn’t it?” 

 

Instead of answering, Atsumu pulls his arm back from around your shoulders and reaches down to take your hand instead, interlacing your fingers together thoughtfully. “Do you think…” he starts, “that soulmates dream about each other because they want to be together all the time? Even when they’re asleep?” 

 

“Hmm…” you look out into the desert, contemplating. Is it really a question of want? If you had the choice, you’d rather have space for yourself as well. But you can see how being with someone all the time, even after your eyes close for the night, could connect them to you in a way you wouldn’t have with anyone else in the world. Is that what soulmates are?

 

You’d like to believe that want is the factor that creates a desire strong enough to transcend physical and mental boundaries, rather than all those old myths that say two souls were originally a part of one entity that couldn’t do without the other. Because that’s what you and Atsumu are — your own people, beyond each other. 

 

And if you’re going to see each other whether you’re awake or asleep, you’d prefer to think that it’s because you want to see each other. Not because you’re incomplete without the other. While Atsumu’s guess is romantic, you wonder if it’s more of a tool like any other part of your body or mind. 

 

“I don’t know. Maybe dreams are like compasses. To help us find our way back to each other no matter how far apart we are. Through each life that we live.” You shrug as you turn back to Atsumu, who’s still looking contemplative as he stares at you. “I have no idea.” you admit truthfully, “But I guess I don’t mind.” 

 

Since it’s with you, you don’t add aloud, but you’re sure Atsumu hears it somehow anyway. 

 

Atsumu blinks at you for another second before he returns the kiss, though he drags it out longer than you, “I don’t mind either.” 




*




You wake up to the sound of your alarm and Atsumu groaning beside you, hugging you closer as if that’ll soothe the beeping disturbance. After pressing snooze once, you snuggle back into his embrace with a relieved sigh that he returns. But it’s not long before you’re both beeped right back into reality about ten minutes later. 

 

This time, you turn it off. But you take your time staring at Atsumu as you hold his hand in yours. He’s got a funny sleeping face; mouth slightly open, one eye slightly dragged up by the pillow, and his hair’s a mess. But it’s a sweet sight all the same, because this is the first time you’re waking up beside him after you just dove deep into your shared unconscious imagination. 

 

“‘Tsumu…” you finally croak after a few indulgent minutes, “‘Tsumu, it’s time to get up.” You bring his hand up to kiss his knuckles gently before leaning in to press a kiss to his nose. 

 

He only groans as he pulls you in closer, sharing his delicious body heat. It’s much more enticing than the cold, uninviting work day waiting for you outside of this bed. But you know your stupid priorities. “‘Tsumu, I’m gonna get up. You can sleep a while longer if you want.” 

 

“No, don’t goooo.” He whines when you try to pull away. It’s so cute that you can’t help but laugh, even in your scratchy morning voice. You hug his head against your chest for another minute, scratching lightly at his hair before announcing that you really do have to get up now. 

 

“Wait, [Name].” His voice is also scratchy, but it’s a little sexy too. “I uh…” 

 

“Hm?” You push his hair out of his eyes, waiting for him to continue. He only just woke up but there’s already a bit of a flush building in his cheeks. 

 

With a deep breath, he comes in for a sweet morning kiss, long and lingering. When he pulls away, you’re a bit dizzy and a lot less motivated to get up, but he says, “I like you. And I wanna be with you. I know what I said ‘bout soulmates and I know we’re both crazy busy all the time, but I want this.” 

 

It’s a bit unfair for him to hit you with this in the morning, when he’s all cute and sleepy and husky-voiced and got you pliant and kissed-up in his arms, but your answer wouldn’t change in another situation anyway. 

 

“Me, too. I want this.” 

 

“Then this is forreal now?” He asks, leaning in close so his forehead presses against yours, “You’re gonna be my girlfriend?” 

 

“Yeah, I will.” You smile, coming in for a kiss before confessing, “I’ve actually been waiting for this for a while.” 

 

Though you’ve never admitted it aloud, it was something you had been secretly hoping for in the long run. It feels good to have it come to fruition. 

 

Atsumu rolls on top of you to kiss you just a bit harsher, and if he truly wanted to, he could probably keep you caged to this bed all morning. “Yeah, me too.” He says. 

 

You apologize to your team for being late that morning. 

Notes:

yeah not my favorite ending, which is why i let this sit in my dungeon for so long, but it was already so long and i didn't need to write another 10k of what i'm sure you guys already know will happen. still hope you may have enjoyed it either way. and again, happy birthday to tiffany <3

since this is the last hq wip that i've had in a while with the intention to post, i think it's time to close off this collection, which is why i've finally marked it complete. i won't say that there is absolutely zero possibility of me writing another hq story again, but i also don't want to leave the door open for any of you who have been waiting up or asking me if/when i'll still be updating this thread. so for now, i'm gonna close this book and leave it on the shelf, where it's still available for any of you to pluck out and read if you ever want. this whole anthology has seen so many different phases of my writing (and my life tbh), so i'm incredibly happy that some of you have stuck around for it for the past 5-6(!!!) years. thank you all so much for reading and commenting and loving all the hq boys with me up until now!

even if i'm not actively writing for them, you're still always free to talk to me about hq or other fandoms on tumblr or twitter

🏐💞