mai

you barely manage to get up that saturday. who the hell plans a café meetup at 9 in the morning? (atsumu and you, literally a few days ago, but it’d be better for your health to blame every minor inconvenience of life on atsumu.)

groaning, you stretch the remnants of a disturbed sleep away. ugh, so many things to do, and only a few hours to do them. shooting a glance at your phone on the nightstand, the bright phone screen screams “7:05,” right into your bleary eyes. great. never in your life had you woken up this early on a weekend, and the first time was taken by your mortal enemy. sighing slightly, you get out of the bathroom after brushing and washing your face, and make a beeline towards your closet. time to get down to business.

— 9:07 AM, mai’s café

he’s sitting at a table near the large window at the front of the café, on his phone, blonde hair falling over his eyes. his cheek smushed on one of his palms, elbow on the table. god, has anyone ever brought up the subject of toner with him? surely that was some day's wordle word? hearing the hanging bell on the door near the entrance ring loudly when you enter, he looks up from his phone. ugh. let’s just get this over with.

“yer late.” is the first thing he says.

“…seriously?” you sigh as you place your bag down on the table.

“‘kay, let’s get this over with,” atsumu says, bringing out his laptop. “i don’t wanna spend more time with ya than necessary.” 

“hate you too.” you mumble while browsing the menu. it’s a quaint café nestled in the corner of the street, but the food looks cute. at least something good could come out of this, right? 

“no need,” atsumu mumbles, hiding the ear that isn’t covered by his hair with a palm. “already got some stuff for us. i paid, obviously.”

‘what a gentleman.’ you thought. why wouldn’t he pay? he was literally the one who invited you here. still…

“thanks.”

“save it. ‘m gonna make ya thank me when we get that 100%.”

“that’s going to be because i do most of the work. i already know it.”

“ya haven’t even seen me work!”

“you missed the pairing lesson of the most important subject this year, for a final worth half your grade, to play with balls…? what am i supposed to think?”

“this ‘playin’ with balls’ is gettin’ me a scholarship, by the way. and can ya call it volleyball instead of playin’ with whatever?”

that elicits an almost-giggle from you before you remember where you are, what you came to do, and most importantly who you’re with.

he looks up at you, finally, and he looks earnest. not like a guy who’s supposed to hate you. at all.

“in all seriousness, though, i promise t’work hard. on samu’s life. let’s put our differences aside fer now. this is important for me too, ya know? they’ll kick me outta the team if i fail.”

“nice to know,” you say, looking down. his sincere gaze is too intense, somehow. atsumu looks at you expectantly. 

“what? i don’t need to promise, i always work hard.” you yawn, trying to cover up the slight flush on your cheeks. i mean, god… this stupid guy flashes his stupid eyes at you once and you forget all the stupid things he’s done AND get stupid butterflies? the thought of that sobered you up and you sighed.

“back to business. you have any plans for what we’re going to do?”

“…isn’t that what we’re meetin’ up for? math’s never been my strong suit, if ‘m bein’ honest.” he shrugs.

you look at him incredulously. “…this is biology.” it’s going to be a long day.

“ahhh, semantics,” atsumu stretches. “hey, look, the food’s comin’!”

“didn’t think you knew a word as big as that. focus.” you say, opening your laptop, then instantly closing it when you caught sight of the stuff he ordered. there were two drinks — a matcha and an iced coffee, and he got a chocolate croissant and a few cookies. 

“wasn’t sure what ya wanted, so i got a lot. got ya an iced coffee jus’ to be on the safe side.”

“you… drink matcha?” you snorted, picking up your drink, eyes drifting to the wired earphones on the table that definitely belonged to him. he shot you a sidelong glance.

“can’t ya just eat in peace? we can plan everythin’ after a break.”

“what are we even taking a break for? we haven’t even started!”

“motivation? shh, no need to get into the fine details. be glad ‘m payin’ and be quiet.” atsumu shook his head. 

9:47 AM, you’d gotten nothing done, no laptops were open (atsumu closed his shortly after the food came), argued for a while, ate everything he bought, and surprisingly laughed a couple of times. when he wasn’t using that big mouth of his to make some cocky remark or the other, he could be pretty funny. he wasn’t really as evil as tsukki and the others had made him out to be, so could you really say he hated you? i mean, if he treated the girl he hated this way, you didn’t want to imagine how he treated the girl he liked. 

"you're way meaner over text." you mumble, chewing on a chocolate chip cookie. mai's café was worth coming to just for these, honestly.

"well, can't really get punched over text, can i?"

maybe you’d been wrong about him…?

“what’re ya gettin’ lost in my eyes for? we have a project t’do,” atsumu raises an eyebrow, looking at you.

“you are such a freak.”

scratch that. he was still as weird as ever.

⊹ taglist: @k4ss11333 @bookworm-center @esunarint @kkoalaworld @st0rmzi3 @beybeys-world @incredible-walker

-> light mode is you, dark mode is tsumu

⊹ taglist: @k4ss11333 @bookworm-center @esunarint @kkoalaworld @st0rmzi3 @beybeys-world @incredible-walker

CLUE NUMBER ONE — it’s a rare day off for you. stretched out on the couch, you flip through channels lazily, nothing catching your attention. suddenly, you shoot upright, catching his attention. “what’s up?” akaashi says, tearing his gaze away from his phone. “kei, do you wanna watch the new scream? we could stay up, i don’t even have to go in tomorrow.” akaashi looks towards the clock, and then back at you. “it’s going to get late, right? i… have some readings to do. proofreads and stuff. you should probably go to sleep too. plus, horror movies scare you anyway.” that makes you pause. in nearly 3 years of marriage, you can count on one hand the number of times akaashi’s declined a movie night. “kei, it’s barely horror!!” he shrugged and got up from the chair he was on. “tomorrow, okay, baby? i have something really serious calling me.” and he makes a beeline for the upstairs bedroom, leaving you with just a kiss on the forehead. “seriously…?” you mutter.

and that’s when it starts.

CLUE NUMBER TWO — the first time it happened, you brushed it off. i mean, who wants to be one of those annoying wives who’s always on their husband’s back? what business was it to you what akaashi was doing on his phone? but it got annoying… and suspicious really quickly. you were filling in some paperwork when you heard him giggle. smiling, you turned to him, about to ask what was funny, when you saw him on his phone. he looked up at you, blinked, then turned stonefaced. “sorry for bothering you.” “nah, it’s fine. what were you doing, kei?” “nothing. just… uh, revising this page. my current client can’t even differentiate between past and present tense.” “...and that was funny?” “you’re telling me you don’t laugh at spelling mistakes on those tiktok comment compilations?” you just went back to your file, one ear focused on the constant shifting and smiling that seemed to be emanating from the fidgety akaashi. you swear once you even saw him kick his feet. the new girl he was talking to must be real funny, huh?

CLUE NUMBER THREE — the glow of akaashi’s monitor highlights his pretty face in the dark room. he looks tired enough, and the tab he has open seems to have words on it, so you conclude he’s working.  “kei? come to bed?” you say, putting your phone down on the nightstand. “it’s getting late.” he just hums, like he didn’t hear you. “hello?” akaashi blinks, then turns. “sorry, spaced out. what was that? uh, i can’t sleep yet. you go on, though, baby. i need to finish this page.” seriously? was he trying to get back at you for being gone all the time? i mean, yeah, work kept you busy, but it’s not like it was easy being famous! someone has to do it! were you so repulsive to him now that he would rather work all night than sleep in the same bed as you? by now, you both would’ve been cuddling, and you would’ve traced his sleepy features with your eyes, while he talked to you about star wars or birds or both, and– whatever, you thought as you drifted off. you’ll confront him soon.

CLUE NUMBER FOUR – akaashi had bought new clothes. him, the frugal guy who’d much rather spend his money on some kind of figurine or new book set, had bought new clothes. sure, he’d spent a lot on you, and he also brought you food from the bakery in the mall when he went. and sure, you’d been encouraging him to buy new clothes since you found a hole in his old shirt, but you didn’t think he’d actually do it now of all times. he buttons up his new shirt in front of you. you don’t let the pale expanse of slightly defined abs from his volleyball days distract you from your conclusion. “so?” he says, raising an eyebrow.  “so.” you said, crossing your arms. you think he’s cheating, and here he is giving you a fashion show. “what do you think?” akaashi looks almost bashful as he avoids meeting your eyes. he’s wearing a button-up white shirt, rolled to the forearms. “wait, don’t say it yet. i have more.” he pulls a beige cardigan over the shirt, looking the part of the prettyboy scholar. “nice? wait until you see this one.” akaashi says, pulling both the cardigan and the shirt off his head, glasses flying off in the process, and nearly getting stuck. you stay there for a while, giving him short comments while he tries on everything he bought. what a nice guy. asking his wife for opinions on clothes (that look unfairly good) that he’d just wear to see his side-chick. he’d barely bought stuff for himself anyway, and he decides to start doing it now, right when you start suspecting him?

you really didn’t want to do this, but it’s better then being mistaken and confronting akaashi, then embarrassing yourself. never in your life had you thought you would be 1) thinking your amazing husband would be cheating on you and 2) going through his phone like some kind of toxic girlfriend instead of the world-loved woman that you were. you decide to check messages first. if you were to find some incriminating evidence, it would be there, right?

...nothing there. you start to feel that maybe you messed up? but he's been too suspicious for you to stop here. you decided to check his screen time instead.

...wattpad? what the hell? was he talking to another girl on there or something? i mean, you knew akaashi was a bit odd, but to cover up his tracks so insistently? what the hell was he hiding? you decided to click on the app.

...what the hell x2. curiosity drives you to click on the first one.

that explains it. the giggles. the late-night 'work', the reading excuse. well, he was reading. just not what you thought. the new clothes. 'all button-ups, cardigans, and glasses?' seriously? who wrote this? ...your husband wasn't a cheater. he was a fanfiction reader. of you. even though you were in the same house. akaashi pushed the door open, towel around his neck, fresh from a shower. he was about to say something, then looked at his phone in your hands, open on an app he knew very, very well. he stared at you, horrified. "you... uh..." he started. you looked back at him, incredulous. "i thought you were cheating on me!!"

-> light mode is you, dark mode is tsumu

⊹ taglist : @k4ss11333 @bookworm-center

rushing into room 302, you almost tripped over your own feet. it was the end of the day, and professor nora had called you into his room after your last lesson to discuss ‘something’. breathing heavily (and cursing your choice of footwear), you burst into the room, pushing the wide, double-panelled doors apart. the old man looked at the clock, then back at you in disappointment. “miss [last name]. 2 minutes late.” you bit back a groan. gosh, he was always like this. “well, that’s not what i called you in for. miss [last name], remember this term’s project?” it was worth 50% of this term’s grade, and would be the make-or-break of whether you’d be accepted into the next year or not. you’d been preparing before it was even announced, so your stomach dropped the second he brought it up. “yes… sir…?” “it turns out a certain someone missed the pairing lesson for a match, and we forgot to account for him. ergo, we’re switching partners, as he doesn’t really have the best foundation in the first place, and missing the pairing lesson puts him in even more of a tough spot. miss [last name], i’m trusting you to take care of him. find the pairings on the board, and then see yourself out. thank you.” he turned back to the stack of papers on his desk. your heart dropped further, if that was even possible. rushing to the large chalkboard, your worst fears were confirmed. ‘missed the pairing for a match’... ‘doesn’t have the best foundation…’. scanning the chalked letters spelling out ‘TERM PROJECT PAIRINGS’ in professor nora’s perfect, block lettered writing, your gaze fell upon a familiar and unwelcome name in the last row.

…great. a 3-month-long project, worth half of your grade, with the guy you hated most in the entire world. could this year get any worse? (spoiler: yes. it could.)

PROJECT TABLE OF CONTENTS: * PS ＞︿＜ written chapters are marked with a ♪ ⊹ PROLOGUE : no exceptions! ⊹ PAGE 01 : frick all miyas ⊹ PAGE 02 : deal with the devil… ⊹ PAGE 03 : assumptions ♪ ⊹ PAGE 04 : game plan!! ♪ ⊹ PAGE 05 : progress…? ⊹ PAGE 06 : back to square one. ⊹ PAGE 07 : food solves all ⊹ PAGE 08 : a-grade FREAK ♪ ⊹ PAGE 09 : the final stretch ⊹ PAGE 10 : d-day.. ♪

EXTRA ㅤCREDIT: ⊹ SIDENOTE 01 : prof. nora the cupid? ♪ ⊹ SIDENOTE 02 : grades are in! ♪ ⊹ EPILOGUE : summer save me…

yet again, your mom had forgotten to pick you up. it was 5pm, and none of your friends were willing to give you a ride. "walk home." one of your friends had said ("shut the hell up," you'd said back.) the only option left was to ride the public train, the 'astral express' (seriously, what 5-year-old named that?) with the kids from the private school across from yours. that was nice and cute and all, but there was one problem...

you hadn't known that the kids (or kid, in this case) from that private school.. what was it.. star rail academy? would be this... attractive? especially the one you were sitting across from. he was sitting on the seat, slightly manspreading. he had a lean yet faintly muscular body from what you could see (and you were seeing.) his black hair was disheleved and fell across his face, a sharp contrast to his viridescent eyes. he was half-heartedly listening to whatever his friend, a girl with short pink hair, was saying. she was talking animatedly about one thing or the other, while he sat there, listening, looking totally uninterested.. and cool as hell.

your first thought was - look cute! - so you wore your school jacket and slightly unzipped it, and took out your phone and started aimlessly scrolling through your settings app and typing stuff on the search bar. after all, it was important to know the weather in cupertino, right? the ride was a long one - you didn't know if that was a good thing or a bad thing. time passed quickly with the help of eye-candy. you stole glances at the cute guy in front of you. once, his friend caught you. she didn't say anything but you could feel her smirking, light pink eyebrow quirked up in puzzled amusement. you... almost died of embarrassment then and there. no way they weren't going to talk about you after you left. great, just your luck, right? forgetting to get picked up, having to ride in the freakin' astral express, and now getting caught drooling over truzz (train huzz...? sorry... not funny...? it's 2026..? okay put the tomatoes down..)

the pink girl started making hand motions and excitedly talking to the guy. eventually, he sighed and then said - "march, do you have a pen and a piece of paper?" "hm? yeah, dan heng. but why?" he just hummed. march rummaged through her bag and proudly presented a messily torn sticky note and a bright pink pen. the guy - whos name was dan heng - took the paper, tore it in half again, and quickly scribbled something. he stuck it on march's head. it said.. it said "free kicks?!" you almost snorted and quickly hid your face. dan heng tucked the other paper in his hoodie pocket. march huffed and tore the note away from her forehead, crumpling it up into a ball and throwing it on the floor. she turned away from him with her arms crossed. "finally.. some quiet." dan heng sighed, closing his eyes.

about halfway, you fell asleep. unbeknowst to you, march was wiggling her eyebrows and making kissy faces towards you and dan heng. dan heng groaned. he had to admit, you were pretty cute. he noticed you taking quick peeks at him earlier. he knew he was attractive, he just didn't have any interest in dating. well.. until now, when he met this cute little stranger on the train. "their uniform looks like the same one from the school across the street, no?" march whispered. ".." dan heng answered. he was too busy looking at your sleeping face. your brow slightly furrowed in rest, and your hair fell over your forehead slightly. "ew, danny boy, are you staring at them sleep? creep!!" march exclaimed, a bit too loudly. the passenger beside march turned to look his way with a confused look. "... march, stop making it weird.." dan heng groaned, shushing her.

the train suddenly hit some bumpy tracks and you jolted awake. you rubbed your eyes and sighed before realizing you were still on the train... with the cute guy... HOLY SHIT, YOU WERE ON A TRAIN WITH A HOT DUDE!! you quickly fixed your messy hair from the short nap (unless ur bald... sorry...). the train intercom announced the next stop, which was about 5 minutes before the stop you got off on. those 5 minutes passed rather quickly. march was on her phone, taking pictures while dan heng was resting, eyes closed and arms crossed.

"ding ding ding!! the train is now approaching JARILO-VI stop! please gather all belongings, as the astral express train staff are not responsible for any lost objects!!" the intercom buzzed. that was it, that was your stop! in your haste, you forgot your phone on your seat. you were halfway off the station when you felt your right pocket, and as one without their phone usually exclaims, said - "FRICK, i forgot my phone!"

you sprinted back into the train, sweating. thankfully, the doors were still open and your phone was still there. march and dan heng were gone, though. you quickly grabbed your phone, holding it close. "my baby..." you sniffled. "uhm... ma'am... if this is your stop, please leave through the doors.." a train attendant said. "sorry!!!" you flashed an apologetic smile, and fumbled with your belongings, when you saw a blur of white flutter out from the bottom of your phone. it was a piece of paper, huh...

"dont stare next time. +123 45678910"

scribbled in suspiciously familiar pink ink.

⊹ mai's note: whats up yoututuutbe this is a repost + a bit of a rewrite hehe sub 4 more !! also tumblr stop lowering the quality of my images before u see my dark side...