I Write Haikyuu Things

Asahi let out a yawn, rubbing his eyes to clear them. He would’ve fallen asleep during his test if it wasn’t for his teacher bellowing the time out every fifteen minutes to put pressure on the students to finish on time. He wasn’t confident that he’d passed but he was sure he wouldn’t fail either.

A girl stood in front of the closed gym doors, her fingers twined together behind her back, her feet rocking back and forth. Her short, curly, orange hair was tied up into short pigtails and she was wearing a colorful pink T-shirt and shorts. Her white runners were getting dusty from the dust she was kicking up.

Why is a girl her age here? Asahi thought to himself. Is she lost? Or is she waiting for someone? Either way, he could never leave a little girl alone if she was lost. He quickly approached her. “Um, excuse me,” he called out as softly as he could. “Are you lost? Are you waiting for someone?”

Yaku sat idly on the cot, his injured ankle resting on a stack of pillows. He used his left hand to keep the ice pack in place while the other scrolled through his phone. He could hear the match going on down the corridor - the cheers, the shouts, the whistles, and if he really listened, which one of his teammates were shouting. Coach Naoi had stepped out to contact his family so someone could take him home but so far, no one had showed up.

He knew the match was over when the gymnasium erupted into cheers suddenly. He almost dropped his phone, caught off-guard by the uproar. He closed his eyes, tried to focus on if the victor was announced. It was impossible to hear anything over the noise.

This wasn't his last high school match. It couldn't be. He and Kuroo and Kai had made a promise that their last match would be the Battle at the Garbage Dump. Not here, especially not against Nohebi. He'd kill Kuroo if they'd lost. Or maybe he'd threaten Lev instead. That titan probably lost them a bunch of points without someone watching his back.

He opened his eyes again, flinching when Kuroo and Kai appeared at the doorway. They were still wearing their jerseys, jackets thrown on hastily, foreheads covered in sweat. One of Kuroo's fingers was bleeding and they were both out of breath.

The match had just ended. Instead of changing or stretching or getting something to eat or drink, they came here. For him.

"Kuroo," Yaku said slowly, "your finger is bleeding."

"Oh, this?" Kuroo almost forgot about it. He could barely feel any pain now. "It's nothing. Inuoka was helping me bandage it but then we won the match-"

There it was. The outcome. Kuroo looked annoyed at himself for ruining the suspense. Kai merely smiled and nodded at Yaku. "He's right. We won."

It took a moment for Yaku to register it. His phone slid out from his hand, the pack of ice following it. "We won?"

"Yep. Two straight sets. Our underclassmen are really something." Kai looked at Kuroo. "Right, Kuroo?"

Their captain was still for a moment. Next thing Yaku knew, Kuroo was hugging him and Kai. His voice shook a bit. "We're going to Nationals."

"We're going to Nationals," Kai echoed, voice wavering.

Yaku let out a breath. He closed his eyes and remembered the portion of the match he was part of. It wasn't much and he wasn't able to watch most of it since he had to be taken to the infirmary. He would make it up to the team at Nationals.

Kuroo rarely got mail. Sometimes he would buy volleyball equipment online if the store didn't have his size or preorder a limited edition item. So when the doorbell rang and the mailman stood at his door with a brown package in his hands, Kuroo was pretty sure there was a mix-up.

He opened the door anyway and gave the mailman a suspicious look. The mailman glanced down at the name of the recipient and asked, "This is for Kozume Kenma." He sounded confused. Obviously he would. The nameplate on the gate clearly read Kuroo.

"Yeah. You can give it to me." Kuroo accepted the package and glanced it over, recognizing the logo of the company Kenma usually ordered games from.

"Okay. Um, I need you to sign this-"

Kuroo scrawled his name on the form and closed the door before the mailman could ask any more questions. He examined the order form taped onto the package. It had Kenma's name but Kuroo's address. Judging by the number of times Kenma had ordered stuff online, Kuroo thought he'd have memorized his address and his mom's credit card at this point.

Before he could head up to his room to grab his phone, the doorbell rang again. Kuroo pivoted around and opened it, package in hand. It was gone from his grasp in an instant with a quick "thanks".

"Hey, don't just leave." Kuroo grabbed Kenma's arm to stop him. "Why use my address? You have your own. Besides, you live three houses away."

Kenma ducked his head in embarrassment. "I forgot it," he answered quietly, "and yours was the first one that came to mind."

"You could've just walked outside to check it...?"

"It would've taken too much time. It was selling out fast. Can I go now?"

Oikawa thought he would be safe once he reached high school. He was wrong. Even without Kageyama Tobio haunting his every action, hovering in his shadow, and otherwise existing, the pressure was never lessened. His upperclassmen were years ahead of him. The coaches were not as lenient as before. He had to surpass them, surpass his fellow first-year teammates, surpass his upperclassmen, and ultimately, surpass Kageyama.

It was easier said than done. He could mentally believe he could do it. That didn't mean he could physically do it.

I decided to write something for the superhero AU created by @suguru. The newest update got me screaming so here's my take on how things led to that point.

Warning for blood and gore and stuff under the cut.

It happened to rain on their day off from practice. Yachi watched colorful umbrellas litter the schoolyard through the window, remembering her own umbrella was left at home. Luckily, her uncle was willing to come by and drive her home since he had to talk to her mom about something.

Komi swore he heard crying coming from the club room. Everyone had left by now so he wasn’t sure who it could be. He slowly pushed the door open until he saw who was inside. Bokuto.

The loud second-year was crying, his hands crumpling the number one jersey their previous captain had entrusted to him mere hours ago. The third-years had to retire after the spring tournament and there was no one better to elect captain than one of the top five spikers in the country. “We’re leaving everything to you, Bokuto,” the captain had said as he handed the jersey to him. “You’ve got this. We’re counting on you.”

It must be more than he could handle. Komi ventured inside and called out softly, “Bo? You okay?”

Bokuto raised his head and looked at him over his shoulder. His eyes were red and his cheeks were stained with tears. “Komiyan,” he stuttered in between sobs, “You think I’d make a good captain?”

Komi approached him, blinking. “Well, yeah. Usually, the strongest player is captain so obviously it has to be you. You’re one of the top five spikers in the country and if you weren’t the captain, it’d look weird.”

“Saru would make a good captain…he’s better than me at playing. I don’t know why Captain thought I’d make a good replacement. I’m not even that good. I barely missed top three. I don’t deserve it,” Bokuto mumbled, his voice soft and laced with sadness. “I don’t deserve this jersey.”

Komi raised a hand feebly and settled for putting it on his friend’s shoulder awkwardly. Late night practices weren’t surprising to any of them on the team nor were moments of breakdowns and dejected modes. This fear of his, this burden…it wasn’t fake. It was real.

“Bo. Look at me.” Komi narrowed his eyes to face Bokuto’s golden tear-stained ones. “You deserve it. You’re our best player and you motivate us and keep us going. We’d never make you do everything. Never. That’s why we’re a team but a team will only work if we have someone leading us. That person has to be you.”

Bokuto’s fingers gripped the jersey tighter. He knew the captain position had to fall on him. He knew but he didn’t want to accept it. “Okay,” he whispered.

“Good. Now, come on. Let’s go home.” Komi helped him up. They left the number one jersey behind in the dark club room.

"Say, Tsukishima-kun! Do you enjoy playing volleyball?"

Tsukishima watched the ball as if it was falling in slow motion. The setter jumped and sent it to the left, sailing over the center running up as a decoy, to be hit by the spiker on the left.

"Well...not particularly..."

"Isn't that because you suck at it?"

He came to a full stop before jumping, arms extended in front of him, just as the spiker was about to make his swing. He spiked, the ball touching Tsukishima's fingers, heading upwards as its direction was changed. "One touch!" he shouted, reveling in hearing the spiker's muttered curse and his teammates yelling to cover it.

"But it was only recently that I started to think volleyball was enjoyable."

Hinata dove and saved it, scrambling to his feet to run back onto the court. Kageyama quickly ran to cover it and he sent it to Azumane on the right, the block forcing the course of the spike to be received by the libero. Tsukishima raised his arms and blinked, eyes focusing on the ball.

The setter jumped and tossed it to the left once again for their ace. Tsukishima's eyes watched it, noticed it was low, slightly close to the net. Daichi was already in the air when he stopped and jumped, creating a small gap in between them.

"Because with that one spike none of my opponents could get, I felt like my time had come!"

Tsukishima swept his arms to the side as the spiker aimed for the gap. The ball rebounded against his arms, sending a jolt of pain through him. He gritted his teeth, narrowed his eyes, did what he could to resist from faltering. The ball landed on the court, the sound of players sliding against the floor following. There was a moment of silence in between that and the whistle blow.

"It's a matter of whether that moment exists for you or not."

Cheers erupted from the stands, flooding any comments made by the opponents. His own teammates stared at him, shocked. Daichi still had his arms out, mouth hanging open. Tsukishima squeezed his hands into fists as his arms throbbed from the block, countless bruises swelling on the skin, his fingers faring even worse. It's only one point. One point out of twenty-five.

This is acceptable.

Bokuto - let him drive. He'll be all dejected if you don't. Even though he's practically a baby owl, he's a master behind the wheel. It might take a few dozen rides before you no longer fear for your life when he drives.

Sarukui - doesn't get road rage at all. He's patient and calm and doesn't get mad if someone honks at him if he didn't do anything wrong. He's always talking if someone is in the passenger seat or hums to himself when he's alone.

Washio - drives a convertible because he's too tall and hits the roof every time he gets in he gets too claustrophobic otherwise. When it's too cold for a convertible, he ends up being a backseat driver.

Akaashi - acts like a concerned mom. He'll ask you if you're hungry or thirsty or have to use the washroom or stretch your legs every half an hour on road trips. Will threaten to leave you in the middle of the highway if you're too loud and disruptive.

Konoha - not the best driver but he can get to places in a reasonable time. He makes a decent teacher too if you're struggling with U-turns or parking or whatever since he's a jack of all trades when it comes to driving too.

Komi - it'd be surprising if he can get through a month or two without getting a speed ticket because he's a speed devil. This guy just doesn't understand the point of speed limits. If you want to go for a ride with him, ask him to go in the morning before rush hour or else an endless stream of honks would follow you during the day.

Onaga - poor guy still has his L. Whenever he takes his test, he gets too nervous and forgets the simplest things like checking his mirrors or putting his seatbelt on. Don't give up on him. He just needs to calm down.

Yukie - follows the speed limit everywhere she goes and gets passed a lot. Rarely changes lanes and stops for every car trying to turn. She's the person who presses the button so the light will turn red instead of waiting. Will never not be eating while driving.

Yaku stared at the ceiling with a frown, unsure what to do. He heard distant voices increasing in volume as someone approached and entered the gym. “What’s wrong, Morisuke?” Nishinoya asked. Yaku turned to watch the second-year head toward him, Komi by his side.

“There’s a volleyball caught in the basketball hoop.” Yaku pointed at it. The volleyball was caught in the knotted rope that formed the hoop. It was tight enough that throwing a ball at it wouldn’t make it fall down but low enough for someone to reach it. Unfortunately, none of them had height on their side.

“Can’t we just leave it?” Komi asked. “Or get a pole to stab at it? Even if we leave it, someone can deal with it tomorrow.”

“The coaches weren’t happy after yesterday when we didn’t clean up after finishing at the end of the day and they threatened to punish us if anything was left behind.” Yaku sighed when he glanced at the doors to the equipment room. It was already locked. Benches were all that remained. “So we have to get it.”

“If we jump, we might be able to reach it,” Nishinoya pointed out. “I’ll try.” He moved back toward the door and made a sweeping motion to make Yaku and Komi move to the side. He ran forward and jumped, his fingers barely grazing the hoop. It wasn’t enough to make the ball fall down. “Damnit!”

“Close! Let me try. I’ve got a good jump too.” Komi backed up and ran toward it, jumping a step too early. He barely touched the hoop as well. “Yaku, it’s all on you.”

Yaku walked backwards reluctantly, unable to admit his jump was low. He ran the length of the gym and jumped but he didn’t touch the hoop at all. “I can’t reach it.”

The three of them stared at the ball for a while as they tried to come up with something else. Komi dragged a bench to stand underneath it and tried jumping up on that but was still short a few centimeters. “Why are basketball nets so high up anyway?” he grumbled. “There’s practically no sport for short people.”

Nishinoya snapped his fingers. “Morisuke! Let me climb on your shoulders. That should work, especially if you stand on the bench.”

“What? That’s dangerous! You might get hurt,” Yaku objected.

“Hey, no problem! I’ll spot you if you drop him,” Komi promised. “Better you than me. You’ve got broader shoulders so you’d have an easier time carrying him than I would.” This, coming from the libero who was older than Yaku. He let out a sigh of defeat and turned around.

With some difficulty and a lot of persuading, Yaku managed to straighten up with Nishinoya on his shoulders. Komi stood on the floor with his arms wide, is eyes focused on the ball. “Can you reach?” Yaku puffed.

“Yeah, I’ll get it out!” Nishinoya pushed the volleyball but it wouldn’t budge. “Huh?” he fiddled with the netting, rustled it, and tugged at it. “I think the net’s all knotted together. I can’t get it loose.”

“Can you push the ball out?” Komi asked. “Or unknot the hoop?”

“Morisuke, can you move closer?” Nishinoya asked. Yaku shifted closer, his knees starting to shake with the weight. “I don’t even know where to start with this. Let me see…”

“Make this fast,” Yaku spluttered. “My shoulders are aching.” Komi opened his arms again and focused on him instead.

“What are you guys doing?” Lev appeared at the doorway with Inuoka and Shibayama behind him. Komi jerked his head in their direction in surprise and Yaku lost his footing and stumbled off of the bench, Nishinoya landing on the floor on the other side of the bench. Komi barely got out of the way in time.

“Are you okay?” Komi offered a hand to Nishinoya and then hopped over the bench to help Yaku up. “You didn’t hit your heads, did you?”

“No,” Yaku muttered. He rolled his shoulders to loosen them as he fixed a glare at Lev. “Why are you here? Weren’t you practicing receives with Kuroo?”

“It’s time to go to bed soon,” Lev pointed out. “Kuroo-san told me to find you.” He noticed the volleyball caught in the hoop. “Oh, there’s a volleyball stuck up there.”

“We know,” Nishinoya said. “We were trying to get it.”

Lev stepped onto the bench and reached up to untangle the hoop. It came apart and the volleyball landed in his hand. “Here you go, Yaku-san!”

He, Komi, and Nishinoya stared at him, unamused. Komi and Nishinoya glanced at Yaku and he took that as his cue to throw the volleyball at Lev. It hit him in the face. “Yaku-san!” he cried indignantly. “What was that for?”

“Don’t underestimate us,” Yaku said threateningly. He picked up the volleyball and placed it by the equipment room. “Let’s go. You aren’t supposed to be here anyway.” He started toward the door, Nishinoya and Komi following him.

Kuroo - if you trust him enough to drive you, you'd be surprised he actually cares about safety and following traffic laws. He isn't a speed devil, only when you provoke him. Has a good memory for remembering how to get to places and takes shortcuts when he's in a rush.

Kai - the ultimate highway driver. He can drive for hours without getting tired or restless because he's always making a game out of driving. He makes road trips a bit less boring with riddles and puzzles and constantly weaving in and out of lanes.

Yaku - looks like he drives recklessly but isn't. He drives one-handedly and his eyes wander from the road a lot because a lot of things catch his eye. Gets road rage when someone cuts in front of him or the driver in front of him doesn't know how to drive.

Yamamoto - pretty confident when it comes to driving and doesn't lose his cool when he gets you lost or can't follow directions properly. He prefers driving with someone else since he likes the company and someone to keep him in check. Just be careful not to mention a girl's name to him because he'd lose his cool immediately.

Kenma - don't ask him to drive on a day he gets a new game and a good week after that, even if you bribe him with a new game. He won't drive. If you catch him at a good time, he'll take you anywhere in the shortest time possible because he comes up with shortcuts all the time. Is a walking GPS.

Fukunaga - the silent taxi driver. Give him a destination and he'll take you there. Not a place he's familiar with? He'll put it into his GPS and get you there like it's no problem. His driving skills are something to behold.

Inuoka - loves driving so he'll drive to every place you'd want to go, even if it's down the street. He says it's to practice his skills but the only thing he needs to practice on is parallel parking and making U-turns.

Lev - doesn't drive much after crashing into a telephone pole because a cat cut in front of him. No one will let him forget it.

The rest of their team had gone home hours ago but Kamasaki and Sasaya stayed behind to help clean up and spend the night. Moniwa was still finishing the rest of his food on his plate and Kamasaki was swishing his drink around in his cup. Sasaya had his arms folded and head bowed. Silence wreathed them, letting each of them to brood over their final volleyball game of their high school career. If they could’ve placed more pressure on Karasuno’s spikers, could’ve timed their blocks better to make receiving easier, could’ve attacked more aggressively…

Moniwa placed his chopsticks down. He looked at his friends. There was still one issue remaining before they could retire formally. “About the new captain…”

“Yeah. We don’t need to talk about it, do we?” Sasaya asked. “It’s obvious who should it be.”

Moniwa nodded and said, “It should be Obara” at the same time Kamasaki said “It has to be Kenji” and Sasaya added “Futakuchi is the only choice”. They gave each other looks. Moniwa was the only surprised one.

“Futakuchi? Why? He isn’t fit to be captain,” Moniwa argued. “Obara is calm and level-headed and Futakuchi is…isn’t like that.”

“Well, it can’t be Aone since he hardly talks,” Sasaya pointed out. “And Sakunami is the libero. Obara is a good fit, yeah, but he’s lacking something Futakuchi has – experience. Besides, Obara is the sort of guy who’d rather be told what to do than actually tell someone what to do.”

He had a point there. Futakuchi wasn’t always cheeky or acted like a smartass. When it came to it, he was calm, gave instructions to his teammates, provoked them the right way to motivate them, and played his roles well. He was their ace because his spikes were more powerful than Sasaya’s. He had every right to be captain.

Moniwa could never forget the first day the second-years joined up last year though. It was a disaster. Futakuchi had pissed off all his upperclassmen within fifteen minutes and Aone intimidated everyone. Obara was the only one who seemed to be normal but he didn’t get to play as much as the other two since his skills were mediocre at best.

“I think Futakuchi deserves it,” he admitted. “I’m just afraid he won’t take his role seriously and his teammates won’t listen to him because of that. I know Coach will help him adjust but during matches, it’s the captain’s job to make the team keep going. I don’t know if Futakuchi can do that.”

Kamasaki lowered his cup. “Honestly, I think Kenji will be an awful captain,” he said. “He’s been a pompous piece of crap since day one but it’s because of that he’ll make the team work together. He never asked you to toss to him every single time, right? He isn’t the backbone of the Iron Wall, right? That guy just talks a lot and gets on our nerves a lot but he knows his place. So if he gets carried away by being captain then Aone and them will be there to stop him.”

“I agree.” Sasaya nodded. “But, the decision is up to you in the end, Moniwa. Pick whoever you think is right for the job.”

Moniwa finished the rest of his food and started cleaning up, his friends helping him out. He watched them out of the corner of his eye, remembering the late nights and early mornings they had spent together training. Even in their third year, they weren’t able to call themselves a force to be reckon with – Kamasaki used to be the backbone of the Iron Wall until Aone came. Sasaya was the ace until Futakuchi came. They had gladly gave their titles to them though, knew they would do a better job.

The new team would have an ace and a strong foundation for the Iron Wall. The only thing they needed was a captain who was capable of anchoring them and making them stronger.

When the team met again, they gathered in the gym. Coach Oiwake sat on the bench, silently observing his team as they stood together for the final time before the third-years retired officially. Mai stood beside Moniwa, the bag of jerseys by her feet. Futakuchi had his fists curled by his side, Aone standing like a huge statue. Obara kept a straight face, doing his best to keep his emotions in check and Sakunami tried to look tall and solemn to show his upperclassmen they could rely on him.

Moniwa drew in a breath. This was it. It was over. “Our season is over,” he began slowly, “and we’re leaving the team in capable hands. You four will help the new members become part of the team and integrate them into the Iron Wall. You’re going to go defeat the powerhouse schools and move on to nationals. We won’t be there with you but we’ll be here to help you.”

“So don’t let all of our hard work go to waste, all right?” Kamasaki said, hoping to lighten the mood. His underclassmen didn’t comment.

“Before we can leave though, I have to name the new captain.” Mai lifted the bag for Moniwa and he took his jersey from the top of the pile. He had worn this number two for a year and it had been an experience like no other. Being named captain was a huge honor. Not everyone was cut out for it. “I put a lot of thought into it and came to a decision.”

He took a step toward Futakuchi and held the jersey out to him. “Futakuchi, you’re the next captain.”

Futakuchi started, surprised, his expression frozen with shock. He recovered quickly and nodded determinedly, accepting the jersey. “I’ll do my best,” he mumbled. “Thank you…Moniwa-san.”

“You’ll be the one who’ll lead our team to nationals,” Moniwa said. “You and the new Iron Wall. Our reputation relies on you now, Futakuchi. I know you weren’t the best kouhai we had but we’re hoping you’ll be a good senpai for future teammates.”

Futakuchi winced at the jibe but didn’t make a retort. He glanced down at the jersey and then at Aone, who gave him a nod. Futakuchi bowed, his teammates following his lead. “Thank you very much!” he shouted.

“Thank you!” his teammates echoed. Sasaya smiled and Kamasaki laughed. Moniwa smiled and took a step back. It was time for them to go.

“Don’t slack off during your stretches, okay? Remember to drink lots of water and help each other if you need it-“ Moniwa was cut off by Kamasaki, who had started dragging him out of the gym.

“They know, Moniwa. You worry too much. We’ll drop by whenever we have time,” Kamasaki called out to them. “Win the spring tournament for us, all right?”

“Come on, let’s go.” Sasaya motioned them to leave. Coach Oiwake gave them a nod and Mai waved at them as they turned to walk out of the doors. Their coach’s voice reverberated throughout the gym as Futakuchi led them through their cheer. Moniwa smiled to himself. They’re going to be fine.

The only thing Yamamoto was really looking forward to for his birthday was having okonomiyaki with the team since they would be treating him. Other than that, he was expecting a cake baked by Akane and a relatively quiet day at school. His classmates would probably wish him a happy birthday and his teammates would probably tease him less during practice. It was going to be a regular day.

He was usually early for morning practice so he arrived at the school gates fifteen minutes the rest of the team would. His hands were in his pockets, his breath billowing in front of him as he sang his usual jingle to himself. “Do bee do bee, do-do, do-do-“

“Yamamoto-kun!” he froze at the sound of his name, his head turning jerkily in the direction it came from. A girl from his class was running toward him, cheeks red and eyes gleaming. “I heard it’s your birthday today. Happy birthday!”

He couldn’t manage to say anything, only gape at her and with his mouth hanging open. She reached into her bag and held something out to him. “Here’s a birthday present. I hope you enjoy it.” When he didn’t move to take it, she placed it in his hand. “See you in class!” she turned and hurried into the building, leaving him to stand in the cold by himself.

Kuroo and Kenma were already present by the time he unfroze and ran all the way to the clubroom. He clutched the side of the door as he tried to regain his breath. “Morning,” Kuroo said quizzically. “You’re still early. I don’t really care if you’re a few minutes late anyway.”

“A-a-a girl! O-outside!” Yamamoto straightened up and gestured frantically outside. Kuroo raised an eyebrow. “Sh-she gave me t-this!” he showed him the squished yakisoba bread.

“It’s a yakisoba bread, Yamamoto. What’s wrong with it?”

“Nothing! Just…she gave it to me! Me! For no reason!” he stopped, realization dawning on him. It must’ve been a birthday present. How did she know it was his birthday though? He looked at Kenma but the other second-year was focused on his game and didn’t notice him. “You told her, huh, Kenma? It’s just so you can see me freak out, huh?”

Kenma mumbled something but neither of them could hear him. Kuroo merely smirked. “A yakisoba bread for a present is pretty cheap, if you ask me. But, it’s better than no present, I guess.”

After practice, as they were about to leave the gym, Shibayama noticed something outside the doors and picked it up. It was a pink gift bag tied with ribbon, a tag hole attached to it. He glanced it over and handed it to Yamamoto. “This was outside the gym. It’s for you, Yamamoto-san.”

“Hah?” Yamamoto took it and examined it carefully. His teammates watched him as he unraveled the ribbon and peered inside. A yakisoba bread was inside. “Another one? Who’s it from?”

Shibayama shrugged. “It was here when I opened the door. There’s no name on it.” That made two yakisoba breads now. One was from a girl in his class and the other was a mystery.

Throughout the school day, Yamamoto received yakisoba bread from four different girls. It became easier and easier for him to accept them and by the end of the day, he was able to nod and thank them for their thoughtfulness. He now had six of them in total.

“Seriously,” he grumbled after practice. “How am I supposed to eat all six of these on my own?”

“You can give them to your sister,” Yaku suggested. They were waiting in the clubroom for Kuroo to return from locking up so they could head out to okonomiyaki. “She’d help you eat them.”

“No way. They’re my presents so I get to eat them. But they might go bad if I leave them for too long.” Yamamoto stared thoughtfully at the pile of bread. Kuroo returned and told them to get out before he could come up with a solution.

At home, he laid the bread on the dining table and sat in front of them. Akane entered and peered over his shoulder, wondering what he was doing. “What’re doing?”

“Geh! You scared me.” He hit her lightly on the shoulder before turning back to them. “I got all of these today.”

“From your team? They treated you to okonomiyaki and bought you yakisoba bread each? They’re so nice!” she beamed as she sat across from him. “Nekoma has the best traditions. All the members get a free meal for their birthday and the captain gets a wish made or a party…I can’t wait to go there next year!”

“Yeah, well, not every club in school has that tradition. It’s just us.” He pushed one of the bread toward her. “Here. I can’t eat them all.”

“Thanks, Onii-chan!” Akane unwrapped it and headed toward the oven to heat it up. She peered inside it and frowned. “There’s something in here. It’s white.”

“What?” Yamamoto leaned over as she opened the bread on the table and took it out. It was a folded piece of paper. “Is that paper?”

She opened it up and showed it to him. The characters for his first name were written on it. “Do the other bread have it too?” he wondered aloud. He reached for the closest one, Akane doing the same. They opened them all up and found a piece of paper in each of them, characters written on them all.

In the end, the message was: “Happy birthday Yamamoto Taketora”. Akane squealed. “That’s so sweet! Who’d think of doing something like that for you?”

“I don’t know.” He thought about all the girls that had went to him to give him the bread. He knew each of them and had always been too afraid to talk to them. They were all in his year too but neither Kenma nor Fukunaga could’ve known which girl in particular he liked more than the rest. It would’ve taken a lot of time stalking and watching to have figured it out.

His team. They were known as the cats, known for taking their time and building countermeasures as they went along. Observing others was a skill they all had but was mostly dictated by their brain and then executed by their captain. He buried his faces into his hands. This was probably the nicest thing anyone had done for him.

When he raised his head, the bread had been cleared and a cake was placed in front of him. It was an Akane special chocolate cake, baked just for him. A candle was lit and “Happy Birthday” was written in icing. Akane smiled at him. “Happy birthday, Onii-chan.”