janicethepoo

⋆.𐙚 ̊. MIYA ATSUMU, the spontaneous kid.

Ring ring ring!

Atsumu, your lovely boyfriend, dials up your phone again while you’re in the middle of a hair treatment session in the salon. With literally multiple aluminium foils on your hair, you pick up the video call, because the guy has already seen you in multiple scenarios worse than this.

“Hey babe!” He gives you a wink on the other line.

You chuckle, and lay back on the chair comfortably, “Hi, ‘Tsumu, what’s up?”

The blond leans forward, and squints his eyes, as if he’s been suffering from vision problems. Or maybe he is, but he always says that his vision is tip top perfect, and he can even count the number of sheep in the valleys far, far ahead.

“Oh, ya doin’ yer hair?” He questions, and gives you a big, wide smile. The one smile that only Atsumu can do, because it effortlessly lightens up your heart.

Nodding as a reply, you quirk up an eyebrow, signalling him to continue his words.

His mouth forms a round ‘o’ shape, and an imaginary light bulb suddenly flashes above, like he’s just remembered what he’s here for. Without a warning, he speaks his next words, not knowing it’ll cause you to wreck disaster in the salon.

“Oh ya, I booked flight tickets to Hawaii yesterday night, forgot to tell ya, sorry babe,” You literally choke on your saliva, but he doesn’t just stop here, “I know ya gonna hit me for this, um… b-but… the flight is tomorrow mornin’ at six, and that’s because I accidentally clicked the wrong flight…”

Atsumu hears a loud thud, and immediately perks up from his sad, sulky expression. Then, he sees the scene in your video, and nearly jumps ten feet high in the air from shock.

In the salon, your chair is entirely flipped, collapsing below your feet. The multiple hair products on the table beside you are completely scattered on the floor, in a pattern so proudly like it’s a beautiful constellation.

Meanwhile, the culprit has their ass on the ground, legs kicked up in the air, waiting for a high-five.

Yes, the culprit is you, and the salon is never going to forget this moment.

However, you are more concerned than embarrassed about why Atsumu is apologising for booking the wrong flight, instead of being sorry for not mentioning to you he’s planning a vacation tomorrow.

T-O-M-O-R-R-O-W!

You give him an earful the moment you reach home, with bits of foil still wrapped around your hair, because you left in such a hurry. You did ensure to pay beforehand, and also, leave extra tips for the catastrophe you caused.

After a very stressful packing, followed by endless bickering, the two of you finally get on the plane. Except that your stress levels are still soaring high, it nearly defies the saying the sky’s the limit.

“Babeeee! I get that yer angry, but…” The blond setter sitting beside you, winces in pain, animated tears rolling down his cheeks, “Please stop pullin’ my precious hair! I just got my hair treatment last week!”

The two of you look like a couple going through domestic violence. Some people are about to get up and confront you, but Atsumu shoots them down with a thumbs-up, and somehow, he still has the energy to give them a bright, toothy grin.

When you finally, and he means finally, calm your head down, you drag out a long sigh.

Atsumu’s so used to your frustrations being lashed out on him, his entire body freezes into an ice cube, eyes widening with a tint of fear, as if he’s ready for another round of complaints thrown at him.

“‘Tsumu, next time, before we go anywhere, and I mean anywhere, even if you’re planning to book a salon trip for me,” You glare straight into his eyes, but they gradually soften when you see the puppy eyes your boyfriend’s giving you.

You take his hands into yours, one at the bottom, one on top. He leans into you, nodding, and the two of you gaze into each other’s eyes for a long while. You see your own reflection in his, and he sees the stars in yours.

Truthfully, the two of you seem to have just been through a soap opera acting.

“Please, and I mean, please for the love of God, tell me before you book anything, okay? I want to do the planning with you.”

Atsumu juts out his lower lip, pouting like the big baby he is, and he sniffles, “Yes, babe, I will do that…”

The flight goes smoothly, and Atsumu brings you to this wonderful five-star hotel, well-known among celebrities and influencers. He’s the best partner ever, assisting you with carrying your luggage to your room, making sure you’re comfortable with the new environment.

He puts a protective hand around your waist, leading you down to the lobby when everything is settled, he holds you close to him, and that’s what you like about him.

Until, he turns to face you with that big stupid grin again, and exclaims, “Oh ya, babe, forgot to tell ya, I booked a very nice spot at the seafood restaurant here ‘round the corner!”

⋆.𐙚 ̊. KOZUME KENMA, the filthy rich.

“Kenma, do you see how cute this keychain is? It also looks hand-knitted!”

You flip over the price tag, and your eyes nearly drop out of their sockets in shock.

Quickly, you mutter out, “Nevermind, this is way out of my budget.”

You prepare to walk out of the store, until… A black card is shoved in front of your face.

The way the card slides right up your face, catches you off guard by the twinkling at the edges. The beautiful, absolute perfection array of numbers on the card, strikes your eyes almost instantly.

You think you are dreaming, because how can a card be this enchanting? It pulls you in, lulls you in like the pied piper. The black card that Kenma hands you is nothing short but-

“Take it, and pay for that keychain you want,” Your lovely boyfriend’s voice snaps you out of your trance.

You act like it’s the holy grail, trembling fingers reaching out to grasp onto the card with both hands. A prayer falls out of your lips as you close your eyes upon your blessed boyfriend, the one and only Kozume Kenma.

The rich are truly terrifying, and are you damn fortunate to be associated with the rich.

As you go ahead to the cashier, a little slot in the corner, you pay for your keychain with the black card.

Kenma pulls up his shades, eyeing you from outside the store. His eyebrow quirks up, seemingly amused by your behaviour. He doesn’t get why you are acting like his black card will grant the end of the world. It’s just a black card.

The next event comes up when dinner ends. Kenma’s booked you a luxurious restaurant, the type that’s literally hundreds of feet above ground, and the napkins are expandable in water. You nearly swallowed one down your throat, if it wasn’t for Kenma fishing it out of your mouth. Embarrassing? Yes.

However, this entire vacation has been fully sponsored by Kenma, and you have yet to pay a single penny for anything. The guilt drowns you, and you can’t help but bring it up when Kenma’s busy plucking out the coriander in the soup for you.

“Kenma, baby… I have something I need to tell you.” You start, hands clasped together in anxiousness.

Hearing this, Kenma immediately drops his chopsticks in his bowl, looking straight into your eyes with his usual feline eyes, that one intense gaze that pierces through your soul. You feel shivers crawling up your back, as if Kenma has a superpower to split open your mind so he can read your thoughts.

You sigh languidly, knowing that overthinking won’t do you any help. Hence, you spill, “I think I should start paying more for our outings. It’s always you handling the check, and— it’s just not fair. It makes me feel like I’m not contributing much to our relationship.”

“During this trip, you kept on giving me your card so I could buy the things I wanted. So, to return the favour, how about I pay for our dinner tonight, along with the future meals we will have?” You propose, fidgeting with the draped silk tablecloth beneath, masking your nervousness. A fear that Kenma might get frustrated and say something sarcastic like ‘you only notice now?’.

But, you know your Kenma isn’t a person like that.

However, you don’t expect him to react like this.

Because at the next moment, Kenma bursts out into sudden chuckles, leaving you completely puzzled. You are sure you didn’t slide in any jokes inside your statement, so why is he laughing like your the world’s funniest comedian?

“Love.”

He calls out, and lazily rests his cheek on his palm, with a sluggish smile tugging on his lips. His gaze scans you from up and down, and you can’t help but tense up.

“Do I need a reason to spoil you now, hm?” He swirls the glass cup of champagne in his other hand, ripples forming in the crimson liquid.

"Me giving you my money is my own issue, so you shouldn’t worry about that. What matters is that you are happy, and that’s the greatest thing I can ask for. Your company and your happiness are more than enough to make it equal, my love.”

Good riddance, you almost tear up in the restaurant while Kenma continues picking out coriander, acting as if he hasn’t just said the most heartwarming words to you.

When dinner ends, Kenma leads you out of the restaurant, fingers linked together, like he’s handing you a silent promise.

You can leave everything to me.

“Let’s go for dessert, alright?”

With pouted lips, you slowly nod as a noise of approval sounds out, “Mmh.”

He squeezes your hand twice, and smiles at you gently, like the whole world has already granted his wish.

Then, he leans down, giving you a soft peck on the lips, successfully catching you offguard, “I love you, so I’ll continue spoiling you, no complaints. Let’s enjoy this vacation together.”

Bless you, because Kenma isn’t going to stop spoiling you, not now, not in the future, never. Just the way he likes.

⋆.𐙚 ̊. SUNA RINTAROU, the tired rock.

“Babe, hey... Rinnie... Rin."

"SUNA RINTAROU!” You call out to the sleeping fox on the bed. Blankets are overturned, pillows are all over the carpet, his saliva is drooling onto the sheets. Yet, the man doesn’t seem to be an inch closer to waking up.

So, when you deliver a harsh smack to his buttocks, he yelps and immediately gets shaken awake.

“Wha- What the fu-”

You point at your phone, but put extra emphasis on the time showing. Through dazed eyes, Suna sluggishly blinks a few times to make out the blurry lines of numbers on the screen.

And when he does, his heart drops, and his head slowly, yet cautiously, drifts up to look at your expression. He gulps, noticing the exasperation on your face, the way there’s fire behind those dull sunken eyes of yours, a sign that he might not live through today.

Suna quickly puts on a lazy grin, which is obviously masking his panic, as he says, “It’s only twelve, what’s the hurry, baby?”

He shouldn’t have said that. He knows, he’s gone by the time the sun sets. The hotel staff are going to open the door and see his dead body merged into the carpets. He’s going to ascend into heaven or descend into hell, he doesn’t care, he’s going to go by your hands.

“Rin. It’s not just twelve. I took a walk around the hotel. I had breakfast by myself. I greeted the receptionist. I took a bath. I dried my hair,” You are fuming, yes you are, and Suna has never been this scared before in his life, “I did all those activities, and I come back. Guess who is still sleeping on the bed, huh?”

You repeat, voice going an octave lower, “Huh?”

Suna follows, meekly stuttering out a, “H-Huh…?”

You give him the lecture of his day, awakening a certain kind of fear that Suna has never known existed within him. He treats you like a goddess the whole day, worshipping the ground you walk on, kissing your feet, performing funny tricks like how a jester does to a king.

He’s the complete definition of the meme, ‘my future wife is probably fake laughing at her boyfriend’s lame jokes, be patient queen, a true clown is on his way.’

However, it happens again, after the two of you finish collecting seashells by the beach. The sun is setting across the ocean, meaning that dinner time is approaching. Your tummy rumbles with hunger.

But before the sound even reaches Suna, a huge, loud, almost contagious yawn comes out from his throat.

“Rin. Are you seriously kidding me right now,” You comment, very close to facepalming at your boyfriend, who’s exhausted from seashell collecting.

His shoulders slump almost instantly at your statement, and he turns around, looks at you with the most pitiable puppy eyes ever, glowing with sincerity. It holds heavy impact to you, causing you to nearly stumble to the sand from how angelic he suddenly appears.

“Babe… I think we should go back to the hotel…” Suna takes a step closer to you, and he looks like the biggest baby on earth, a 185cm tall baby in your eyes.

You reply, “No.”

“Shh... yes.”

And that’s how the two of you ended up ordering takeout in your hotel room. Multiple boxes of different cuisines are spread across the mini table in the corner, while both of you enjoy a hearty meal.

Suna, being the manly man he is, wraps up the plastic bags, disposes of the food packaging. You think he’s going to propose taking a walk around the hotel for good digestion.

Instead, he wraps an arm around your waist, and falls back down into the bed, as if the bed is his second girlfriend.

You whine, kicking your feet in the air as you struggle in his grip, but how can you compete with a guy who literally plays volleyball professionally?

You don’t, and proceed to stare at the ceiling hopelessly.

Looking at your boyfriend who’s having his eyes shut closed, you say, “Rin, we just ate dinner. I don’t wanna get reflux esophagitis-”

“Nanana, can’t hear you. Goodnight!”

WIth that, he embraces you closer to his chest, blocking out any ray of light that dares enter his hold. His warmth floods over you in one go, relieving the tension in your limbs as you gradually relax in his arms.

You have no idea how Suna is an athlete, aren’t all athletes supposed to be active? Why is your athlete a little bit wrong in the head?

You sigh deeply, and brush it off, deciding to sink into his embrace further.

Until you hear a loud snore.

⋆.𐙚 ̊. TSUKISHIMA KEI, he wonders, is he still just an innocent teenage boy in your eyes?

Tsukishima has always wondered how it’s so easy to fall asleep during breaktime in school.

He knows that breaktime is when the devils are released, which means it’s the loudest, because the entire school is free from classes. Certain people like Hinata and Kageyama… He swears, he can hear their voices from afar, bickering with each other.

At home, he’s known to be a light-sleeper. He gets riled up easily by the tiniest of voices, which requires him to wear headphones to sleep sometimes. Not too much, his brother warns him that he might suffer from hearing loss one day.

“You’re not going on lunch break?”

You approach him the moment the bell rings, offering him a small grin. You do that to everyone, coming up to people, having short conversations in means of being friendly.

Tsukishima doesn’t get why you enjoy talking to him. He’s a boring person, and gives short, blunt replies. Being a people-pleaser isn’t in Tsukishima’s books.

“No, I went for the first,” Yet, he still discovers himself trying his best to elongate his words when conversing with you. Just a little, teeny-tiny bit, compared to usual. Perhaps, it’s because you are the only one he finds slightly tolerable, except for Yamaguchi.

You hum as a reply. Then, Tsukishima hears the squeaking of shoes against the floor tiles, and later, doesn’t hear anything else anymore. The classroom goes entirely quiet, and he takes it as a sign to have his well-deserved rest. A daily routine of his.

Forming a criss-cross shape with his arms, he lays his head sideways, facing the wall. Gradually, his eyelids flutter closed, lulling him into a sweet, peaceful slumber.

He thinks he has gotten more than enough sleep from last night, because he ends up waking up earlier than his expected time.

However, before he shifts his head up, the loud footsteps approach his classroom, and he decides to lie down for a while more. Class might be starting soon anyway, he can slot in a few more minutes of rest.

But then, he nearly perks up when your voice enters the room.

“Guys, how about we talk outside instead?” You say in a tone, so soft, it sounds like a light breeze, but Tsukishima can still hear your words as clear as day, “I don’t wanna wake up Kei. He’s been looking tired the whole day.”

Tsukishima’s breath hitches.

“You’re such a caring person, Y/N. Sure there’s nothing else going on between you and him?” Your friend teases you, which earns a few chuckles that slowly fade into the distance. You’ve probably pushed them outside while being in a red fit of bashfulness.

For the first time, the image of your flustered expression pops up in Tsukishima’s mind. He imagines how you’re fiddling with your fingers, words stumbling out of your lips as your tongue twists. He also thinks of how you might be fighting for your life outside, while your friends continue to add oil to the fire.

Tsukishima can’t stop thinking about you.

And he most certainly can’t stop holding your voice close to his heart.

Kei.

To him, you call him Tsukishima. To teachers, you call him Tsukishima. To friends, you also call him Tsukishima.

When he’s absent, do you call him Kei to everyone? How long have you been calling him by his first name, without him knowing? Why do you never call him that when you’re in front of him?

And, why does he care so much about this?

Tsukishima buries his head deeper inside his make-shift arm pillow. The warmth doesn’t aid in the rise of temperature he feels on his face. In fact, it exacerbates the situation. He can’t look up either. His classmates might take notice of him, and it’s the last thing he wants to happen.

Class starts, Tsukishima pushes the thought to the back of his head, thinking of it as a temporary fixation.

Tsukishima tries his best to focus on the syllabus, but the lesson floods his mind, and exits out of the other ear. Your voice is the only thing on his mind now. It has become a giant, towering wave, washing away the unnecessary debris that enters his head.

You have become all he can think of, infiltrating every corner of his life, despite his initial denial.

Which is why, when the time comes, Tsukishima is walking you home for the first time.

Volleyball practice has just ended a few minutes ago, and it's also the first time you've seen him play, too. So, he plays like his life depends on it. Blocking every ball that stands in his way, soaring high above the net, standing tall like a wall, he hopes one day, you can depend on too.

The sky paints a beautiful hue of pink, and the sunlight drapes over you like a blanket, kissing your skin gently.

Tsukishima doesn’t tell anyone about it, how he heard you calling his given name when you thought he was asleep. Not even Yamaguchi, nor his brother. He keeps it to himself, until today, when he lets the long-awaited words slip out of his lips.

“You can start calling me Kei.”

“Huh?”

It’s pristine and clear. Tsukishima doesn’t want to be just Tsukishima to you anymore.

He wants to become something more than that, and it shows on his face, with dusted pink skin, similar to the tint of the skies, all across his skin.

“Stupid, what I mean is…” He takes a step closer to you, just like how you have stepped into his heart, effortlessly, “I want you to start looking at me as a man.”

⋆.𐙚 ̊. SUNA RINTAROU, he's walking on clouds, and nothing else can take away the joy you give him.

It starts with a normal after-school hangout with the three second-years.

However, due to a certain blond getting food poisoning from eating overnight dumplings, the Miyas couldn’t attend the hangout. As quoted by Osamu, “This scrub keeps sayin’ he’s gonna die and apparently, all of a sudden, he can see the light. So sorry y’all.”

The hangout becomes cancelled, what fun is there without the Miya’s providing free entertainment?

Suna proves you otherwise.

He brings you to a photobooth, where the two of you choose stupid hats for each other. You pick out an octopus one, with the tentacles falling off his head. It doesn’t do a single bit of justice for Suna’s good looks, but he looks like he’s enjoying this too much.

Because the hat he chooses for you is the most hideous thing you’ve seen on earth.

“I’m not wearing this.”

“I think you make a good ostrich,” He proceeds to plop the hat on you, where a pink ostrich rises from the base of the hat with a funny expression.

When the two of you enter the photobooth, something shifts.

He leans in close to your side, like never before, to the point where his shoulder is touching yours. You steal a glance at him, the word ‘unbothered’ written all across his face.

Gulping heavily, you try your best to pay no attention to it, and cover it up with a smile to the camera.

Then, he takes you to a lake, and teaches you about skipping stones, where you have to toss pebbles, making them bounce across the water's surface.

It turns into a competition, filled with endless bickering and laughter. You sabotage him multiple times, which ends up with him being the loser. He rolls his eyes, saying, “Cheater cheater pants on fire.”

“I think that’s the wrong way to say it.”

He huffs, “I don’t care.”

The day ends with him walking you back home under a peaceful sunset. A classic epilogue to a romance novel, except… the two of you are only friends.

Just friends.

It echoes in Suna’s mind like a mantra, a reminder that claws at the back of his mind.

The walk back is as silent as ever, with Suna beside you. You don’t notice, but he purposely makes his steps smaller, so he’s walking at the same pace as you, like how he always does, no matter where you are.

Suna likes staying close to you, and it’s clear that he likes it when he drops you off at your house, lingering a bit too long at the front gate with you. His hands are stuck inside his pockets, and his bag is slung over one of his shoulders as he stands before you, a high school boy who’s just in love.

“I had a very fun time today. Maybe it’s good that Atsumu and Osamu didn’t come,” You make a light joke, chuckling, a sound that Suna dearly adores.

Suna lets his lips quirk up slightly at the side, “You’re right. They would have ruined our peace.”

Then, there’s a moment of silence. Suna has heard that his eyes are intimidating whenever he stares too hard at someone or something, but to you, his gaze falls over you with a gentleness like never before.

So, you bid farewell, and prepare to enter your house, to Suna’s despair.

However, things change when you suddenly turn around, grasping onto the straps of your bag, and look up to him with the most ethereal smile he’s ever seen.

“Oh, and… thanks for today, Rintarou.”

Suna’s world entirely stops spinning for a while. He sees flowers all over the place, and they’re at full-bloom. Butterflies are fluttering inside his stomach, slinking into his heart before swallowing it up; it forces an emergency stop to his pulsing blood, making him want to keel over.

Yet, whenever he opens his mouth to speak, he feels his heart beating at his throat, and at that moment, Suna Rintarou truly feels like he’s become the successful main character of a love story.

“You called me Rintarou.”

“Uhh, yeah?”

He sucks in a deep breath, and god, he feels so, so happy.

He’s nearly going to do a thousand jumping jacks, hundreds of his most hated burpees, but he doesn’t, and offers you his last words, “Call the emergency services, I’m about to die.”

And Suna Rintarou really pretends to faint, dropping limp onto the ground, limbs all sprawled out like a starfish, not a single worry about how he’s going to stain his white uniform, and has to stay up late washing it.

While you yell out his name in a panic and fret, a small rising smile blooms on his lips.

If he dies tomorrow, then so be it.

The world can crash and burn, but Suna Rintarou is already glad he gets to live for another day to hear your voice.

⋆.𐙚 ̊. AKAASHI KEIJI, he realises he can't live a single moment without you, you are all that he needs.

Akaashi Keiji is calm, analytical, humble, and most likely, the most flawless human to exist on this earth. He opens the door for people to enter first. He notices the small errors and won’t hesitate to fix them. He treats everyone as an equal, letting them have their own spotlight to shine.

However, Akaashi is never good at withstanding stress. When a big match comes up, he paces around the waiting room endlessly, breathing heavily. When questioned about it, he says he’s doing breathing exercises.

“You sure…? Your face looks very constipated.”

Perhaps he should be like Hinata, and take a big dump before competing, but it’s way too late for him to stop by the toilet.

“I’m fine…” Akaashi barely holds back the tremble in his voice, clasping his hands together to prevent anyone from seeing that they’re uncontrollably shaking.

Even with Bokuto being in high spirits, and everyone else motivated to crush the rival team, Akaashi still feels a certain sensation of anxiety, crawling up his back and whispering negative thoughts into his head.

Hence, when the team finally prepares to head out to the giant court, Akaashi gets blinded by the lights, the number of people on the bleachers cheering for them, and the empty spot in the middle, where he will soon stand.

Akaashi gulps nervously, standing behind the tall and confident Bokuto to hide himself from the attention.

What if he fails today? What if he can’t make a good set, and ends up leading his team to a loss? Endless thoughts run in Akaashi’s head, bumping into each other, causing a great landslide.

It’s unfortunate you can’t make it to the game today, due to having made plans with your friends beforehand.

Akaashi doesn’t mind you hanging out with friends, and he certainly doesn’t want to bother you, but the lack of your presence completely alters his mood. Whenever he’s down in the dumps, you are always there to lift him up, like a warm glow of light that embraces his fading self.

He… really wishes you had come to cheer for him.

“Hey, Akaashi!”

He doesn’t know why his mood is getting to him. Is he becoming a second Bokuto?

“Akaashi!”

He really can’t help it. He’s not at the top of his game today, so should he just run— 

“Keiji!”

Akaashi turns around almost immediately, and his eyes widen, with sudden stars that glimmer hope within them. At that moment, there’s no one else in his world, only you, and that enchanting smile of yours that effortlessly steals away his heart.

“I… I am so sorry for being late, my friends are waiting for me, but I still have to say this…” Your lips are parted, harsh breaths being panted, a sign that you have actually run, just to be with him.

Then, before he knows it, you are taking his hands in yours, just like how you’ve taken his whole life in one breath. You intertwine your fingers with his, holding them tight and close to your being—

Akaashi feels himself losing grip with reality, as he subconsciously drifts off into your existence, fusing into one with his palpitating feelings.

The final punch in the gut occurs to Akaashi when a grin dances on your lips, as you exclaim, with radiating optimism, “Good luck with your match, Keiji! I’ll be cheering for you and your team!”

Akaashi doesn’t realise the entire team behind him is throwing teasing remarks at him, nor does he notice his own hands are quivering, not from uneasiness, but from longing. And Akaashi doesn’t remember the last time he has longed for someone this much.

And so, he grasps onto that feeling, and reminds himself that it’s not a dream anymore.

Akaashi makes a promise to himself, with a beating heart, beating like it’s about to die. If he doesn’t win this match, he doesn’t deserve your heart.

“Is it just me, or did the vibe around Akaashi suddenly change?” One of his teammates comments, nudging the said boy’s shoulder with a knowing smirk.

With a subtle, genuine smile, Akaashi replies as if it’s the most natural thing in the whole world, “I am merely feeling motivated to win, I don’t see anything wrong with that.”

Win. He will win this match, because you are cheering for him, and he needs nothing more than that.

Akaashi Keiji, clutching on his fists with nothing but perseverance, steps into the blazing fire for you; not as a superhero that comes in to save the day with his setter abilities, but as a desperate high school teenage boy, willing to dedicate his whole seventeen years of life to this one moment.

This one single moment that will make him feel that he’s finally, and sincerely, worthy of being yours.

⋆.𐙚 ̊. KOZUME KENMA, he loses sleep, but most importantly, he loses himself.

The night is still young and wild. Kenma hears a lot of people saying that, and thinks that it might be true. He’s staying up until midnight again to play a brand new game with you.

It’s an open exploration world that has recently blown up on the Internet. People have been praising it a lot, saying it’s the future of games. Of course, after hearing it, who won’t want to purchase the game to have a try themselves?

After a few months of the hype slowly dying down, the game finally is sold on discounted shelves. Kenma and you waste no time in getting it off the shelves. Now, it’s way past midnight, where the moon shines the brightest, and the two of you are still busy grinding for seashells to level up your characters.

applepi: let me join your world to help u lol y/n: ok :D

The game gets even more fun in co-op mode, and time passes even more quickly. Kenma does not bother checking the clock anymore, aiming to skip school tomorrow and just head for volleyball practice.

Soon, all the seashells scattered across the game have gone into your inventory. The game instructions say that materials will respawn in two days. With nothing else to do, you decide it’s time to finally put a stop to the game.

y/n: gonna go sleep now, just remembered i have a group project discussion tmr :/ applepi: should’ve told me earlier, sleep well (: y/n: thanks for playing with me, sweet dreams kenma :D

The green dot beside your profile picture switches to grey. Kenma doesn’t budge an inch, body unmoving, eyes locked onto the chatbox.

He swears. His heart has just entirely stopped pumping blood to his brain. Why does he suddenly feel so dizzy, like his eyes have gotten cursed by a weakening spell? Oh god, is today the day Kenma will die? Perhaps he should’ve believed in Lev when he brought up to Kenma in a panic that his luck this year is even worse than hyenas?!

The night is young and… Kenma can’t sleep. He’s been rolling around his bed, staring at the ceiling with widened feline eyes. The sheep he’s been counting have already crashed into the ground and met their demise.

It’s too hot.

He opens his windows to let the night breeze in.

It’s too cold.

He wraps himself up with his blanket, snuggling into the warmth.

It’s too hot—

Kenma nearly suffocates himself by twisting his blanket around his neck, but decides his life is too short and meaningful for him to approach death like this.

A few minutes later, the thrown blanket meets the floor, and Kenma sprawls out his limbs on his bed, tired gaze pinned on the ceiling again. His palm reaches out for his chest, the space where his heart belongs. He hears it.

Ba-dump, ba-dump, ba-dump.

As if someone is holding an imaginary band concert in his system, the drumming of his heart becomes the noise in the silence for him. He listens to the beats of his heart, and recalls what occurred a few hours ago.

Kenma. You have just called him ‘Kenma’, not ‘Kozume’, not a random nickname that changes every week.

And now, he somehow finds himself holding his phone, your contact number reflecting in the dark pupils of his eyes. His fingers hover over the call button for a few seconds. Now his heart hammers against his chest even louder, he feels himself holding in his breath. But then, he quickly retracts his hand, shaking his head in disbelief at his thoughtless actions.

He’s going to regret this. Kuroo is going to tease him until he gets buried seven feet deep. Kenma is forever going to label this as his ‘dark history’ and carry it to his grave.

“...Hello?” Your voice penetrates the quiet of his room.

Oh shit. Did Kenma accidentally press call?

The blond stays silent, listening to the chirping of the crickets outside, and the vigorous dance his heart makes when your raspy, just awoken voice reaches his ears. It’s beautiful, oh god, Kenma thinks you’re beautiful even though he can only hear you.

“I…” His breath gets knocked out of his lungs in one go. You’ve stolen away his voice, like the villain in the mermaid movie. You’ve charmed him to the point he’s on his knees weakly, gaping like a fish at your superior power.

Kenma is gone.

“My name… Can you say my name again?” He exhales out a trembling, vulnerable breath, “Please?”

The other side of the line goes quiet, and he’s back to the cacophonies of crickets as well as his dying heart. He waits for a response, even though he hates waiting, and he doesn’t have adequate patience.

“Wha…? Kenma…?”

Maybe it’s the way you unintentionally sound groggy, slurring out your words when you’re half asleep, disturbed by his sudden call at four in the morning. But goodness gracious, Kenma thinks it’s the most adorable thing he’s ever heard throughout his life. Your voice, paired with his given name, is a melodious song the bards sing in unison.

Yeah. Kozume Kenma is a dead man, all thanks to you.

⋆.𐙚 ̊. SAKUSA KIYOOMI, he makes things worse for himself by fumbling up everything he does.

“This is… the best day of my life.”

You exclaim excitedly, hands already rubbing together like a mosquito ready to feed on human blood. Your adrenaline is high enough to take over the whole world; you can even jump as high as the little one from Karasuno.

Sakusa shakes his head before giving you a judgmental stare from the corner of his eye.

He can’t believe he’s doing this.

A week before, you approached Sakusa, who was busy chugging a water bottle. You walked up to him sneakily, then presented a flyer to his face, which earned him a flinch and a ‘what the-’. The flyer glides down to his lap, and he rolls his eyes at your menacing giggles.

“What is this?” He questions, taking a look at the flyer.

With a wide beam, you explain, “Well, someone from the other class gave me this! Apparently, there’s a free baking trial class down the cafe near our school, but it’s only for couples sooo…” You point at the empty information box in the left corner, “Please join me, I really wanna go!”

Here he is, with you, wearing matching SpongeBob t-shirts, because apparently, it strengthens your image as a ‘couple’. He deeply regrets this, and regrets saying yes to you.

However, he knows that if he doesn’t say yes, you will end up whining in his ear like a buzzing mosquito. Totally not because he knows you enjoy baking. Totally not.

Totally.

Soon, the class begins, and the teacher instructs everyone to wear their aprons.

Picking up your apron, you put it on, but struggle to tie the strings behind. You steal a glance at Sakusa, who’s already well-prepped. Gloves on, apron tied, mask on. For some reason, he doesn’t seem like your pretend boyfriend anymore. He looks like a surgeon prepared to operate on you.

You’re scared, but you decide you need his help.

Turning your head to face him, you ask, “Kiyoomi, can you help me tie my apron?”

As if a sudden iceberg has struck the room, Sakusa freezes entirely on the spot. His head rotates like the killers in horror movies, moving in a snap as his eyes show a certain kind of emotion you can’t decipher. You’re more concerned he might break his neck.

Now, you are beginning to get crept out. Sakusa is just… staring at you, with eyes that pierce like daggers through your skin.

You gulp cautiously, “I-It’s okay, I can do it myself-”

“No. Let me.”

He finally steps forward, and tugs on the strings of your apron, working out a functional knot.

While you face forward for Sakusa to tie the strings, he has never felt so on edge before. The boy hopes you don’t immediately turn around. He feels hot around the face, to the tips of his fingers, that slowly tie another knot to secure the apron. Either he’s intentionally taking his time, or his hands are trembling so badly, he can’t focus.

He’s too flushed for you to even look at him. It might be a fever. Perhaps, he’s already gotten sick from the filthy environment he’s in. Yes, that might be it.

Sakusa brushes it off the moment he’s done with your apron, settling on breathing exercises, because his heart shouldn’t be pumping this much blood to his face. Yes, Sakusa, you’re doing amazing.

As the class proceeds, you curiously steal glance after glance at Sakusa, wondering why he’s suddenly averting his eyes away from you, like he’s afraid your imaginary predator tendencies will swallow him up.

“Next, crack four eggs into the bowl.”

Sakusa somehow uses too much force when cracking the egg, and it ends up spilling onto the edge of the bowl. Just when you approach to help, he mumbles a quick apology, and cleans up the mess.

He attempts to crack another egg. Except this time, it slips out of his hand, meeting its death on the floor.

“Afterwards, add two cups of flour.”

The raven-haired boy adds a cup of flour. Things are going good. He dusts off the excess flour on the cup, ensuring it’s just right.

He adds another cup of flour.

And another cup.

“Um… didn’t you just add in two cups earlier?” You ask him, clearly bewildered because you were watching him at the side earlier. Your confusion morphs into evident concern, “Kiyoomi, are you okay?”

Oh god, he can’t.

The moment you say his name, his face instantly turns beet red again, like a switch flipped on, triggering his immune system. He’s shaking, convulsing, every single part of him twitches intensely under your gaze. He tries to stabilize himself, count down from ten, and it might be working when he musters up the courage to reply.

“I’m fine.”

When your end product gets plated on the table, you burst into a fit of laughter. The extra flour, lack of eggs, and wonky icing: everything that makes the cake stand out from the rest. It’s truly a mess, but you like it a lot.

Beside you, Sakusa doesn’t even bat an eyelash at whatever cake the two of you made; instead, he takes in the sight of you, laughing wildly.

His gaze drapes over your form endearingly, as if there’s only you and him, belonging together in this little world of his.

Sakusa doesn’t know why, but he feels like, within the relationship between the two of you, something… has changed, and it won’t be for long until you completely invade his mind, every inch, every corner, every part.

⋆.𐙚 ̊. OIKAWA TOORU, he never knew it'd affect him like this, so when it does, he drops powerless onto his knees for you.

Oikawa knows you enjoy reading sappy romance mangas in your free-time. Yet, you always get so defensive whenever he claims that, denying it, pushing him away and even looking at him like he said the stupidest thing on earth!

It’s as if you are shy regarding your love for the genre.

Hence, Oikawa makes it his mission. Operation: Expose L/N Y/N!

First. He waits until you leave the classroom for a restroom break. Then, he takes that as a chance to sneak right in! Your secret should be in his possession in a few seconds now!

But wait, he feels… like he’s being watched.

“Oikawa. What are you doing in my classroom?”

Second. Distraction is always the key to winning a battle, all the mangas said so.

Oikawa settles down in the cafeteria, watching you eat your food in front of him. You pick your chopsticks, grab a piece of vegetable to your mouth, but you accidentally smear a bit of sauce on the side of your lips.

For some reason, he acts on instinct, reaching his hand out towards the smear on your face, about to wipe it away with his thumb.

Then, he freezes momentarily, as if he’s snapped himself back to reality, and notices your furrowed eyebrows staring at him, puzzled.

Oikawa is clueless about why he acted like that, but he ends up losing his second chance to expose you.

Afterwards, mistakes pile on top of mistakes, and failure occurs after failure. Oikawa is nearly about to give up. Perhaps, you might not be the kind of person he imagines you as, and maybe, Oikawa should stop obsessing over useless thoughts.

He doesn’t give up.

You invite him to a study hangout in your room, and he accepts. However, what you don’t know is that for Oikawa, this is an opportunity to make stone turn into gold. The gods have blessed him with a chance to make tides turn.

He enters your room first, and sees your laptop at the table side, opened, and just recently used. Then, something catches his eye.

Is that… Kimi ni Todoke? That famous shoujo manga everyone has been talking about these days?

Oikawa’s smile has never bloomed so brightly before as he holds up the manga, inspecting it like a detective finally reaching the end of the case.

Suddenly, the door clicks open, “I got us some snacks— what are you doing.” Your voice drops a octave low, and you eerily walk up to him from behind, before catching sight of your beloved manga on his hands.

“You know, L/N-chan, you could’ve just admitted to liking romance mangas,” Oikawa’s grin is cheeky, and it burns fire in your face, as you get all hot and flustered.

In a fit of embarrassment, you quickly reach out your hand, about to snatch back your property, but Oikawa acts faster, and raises it high in the air, knowing that you won’t match his height.

“OIKAWA, I AM GOING TO KILL YOU! GIVE IT BACK!” You yell in desperation, not even caring what expression you’re wearing anymore, because you’re busy tugging at his arm like a frantic crying child.

Meanwhile, Oikawa is enjoying this. The foxy grin on his lips grows even larger as he cackles at your futile attempts. It’s like he lives off your suffering, which he does. He feels too prideful about his height now to even bother.

“YOU BETTER GIVE IT BACK TO ME! IT’S MINE! TOORU!”

Oikawa’s pride is short-lived, as the manga in his hand drops to the floor with a loud thud.

“I’m… I’m actually going to haunt your dreams tonight. Gosh, what is wrong with you?!” You sob internally, the humiliation coming back to you in one go.

However, while you’re busy wailing in your own emotions, you don’t see the way Oikawa covers the lower part of his face with his hand, shielding away the intense pink hue on his cheeks, as he averts his vision from you.

His heartbeat races like it’s competing against time, rattling against his ribs, shaking his whole world.

Oikawa doesn’t give a single shit about what kind of manga you read now. You just called him by his name, for the first time. He can’t think straight. It’s a field of blur before him, and— gods, he might be high.

If you were desperate earlier, then Oikawa is drooling uncontrollably on his knees.

Yeah, something is really wrong with him, because he enjoys you calling his name a little bit too much, to the point his breaths are completely stolen by you.

“Hey… wanna call me by my name again?”

⋆.𐙚 ̊. BOKUTO KOUTAROU, he wonders, how is it possible for you to be this beautiful?

Your lips purse together tightly, forming a straight line. You grip the metal handrail, hard, as you watch the ball once again, get hit out of bounds. Not even a single breath leaves your lungs. Things are getting too heated even to take a moment to breathe.

The numbers on the scoreboard for both teams are like heaven and earth. Fukurodani High School is losing against their rival school team, causing the tension in the court to rise so high that your relaxation techniques are no longer working.

You turn around, and notice the people supporting Fukurodani are already beginning to laze off from cheering. Their expressions are dull and bored, seemingly out of energy, lacking motivation to support their team anymore.

You do not blame them. It’s a tough spot for Fukurodani, the chances of them turning the tide are way too slim.

Then, there’s also the ace of the volleyball team, the captain. His once spiky hair, and eyes filled with a lovable glimmer— now reduced to a gloomy deflated state. You notice how he loses his focus on the game, and ends up missing the ball multiple times.

Bokuto is currently experiencing his emo mode, and even Akaashi’s efforts are futile in cheering him up, “Bokuto-san…”

The disheartened captain laggardly perks up, his limbs swaying around weakly, “Huh…?”

Heck, Akaashi looks like he can’t even handle his own emotions well. No one in his team can. Their hopes are crushed by not a rock, but an entire meteor.

A twinge of hurt aches at your heart, seeing Bokuto acting so clueless and depressed while he wanders around the court like a lost baby owl. You know he can do better. You know he has potential that’s yet to be unlocked. You know you have to do something.

At the same moment, Akaashi locks eyes with you. In the pool of gloominess, you catch a tiny spark of desperation, as if he is pleading with you to act.

And so, you did.

In a heartbeat, before Bokuto brings the ball up to the sky to serve, you stand up tall. Gritting yout teeth, you hear all the curious whisperings about your action. Red humiliation fills your face, but you clench tight on your fists, unwilling to back down, not now, not when Bokuto needs you.

A newfound courage overwhelms you when you lean over the handrail, letting your whole existence be known to this little world in this little court. Then, you shout:

“KOUTAROU—!”

As if suddenly, this little colourless world has transformed into a serene oasis, where the sunshine kisses the most beautiful parts of the universe. Bokuto turns his head. He sees it. The way the overhead lights glow up your being. This enchanting ray of light falls gracefully on your face, framing your beauty, and even the little details, making you appear in a way that Bokuto has never seen.

He doesn’t want to look away. His heart is racing a bit too quickly for his own good, and he knows it.

Somehow, an invisible force pushes Bokuto to fly high.

“—YOU CAN DO THIS!”

And his palm, as if he’s accumulated his years of sweat and hardwork, everything at stake at that one moment—  he slams hard onto the ball, letting a loud thud echo throughout the silent court. It takes flight, and before anyone in the rival team can react, the ball becomes a sharpened arrow, then crashes perfectly into the centre.

…

Everyone goes quiet.

Then, a shaky, last breath is released, and Bokuto balls up his fists. He shouts at the top of his lungs with surreal vigour as he swings his head to look up at the sky, “HEY HEY HEY!”

All the cheers and yells begin erupting like a hot volcano. The thick tension has dissipated, and has been replaced by a brand new layer of hope. Hope for their captain, their ace, Bokuto Koutarou.

At that moment, Bokuto lets his head look up, and oh gods, he looks good. Drenched with sweat that drips off the sides of his forehead, his heavy pants leave his chest panting for air. Yet, a wide, very wide smile rises on his lips. It grows so bright that it even rivals the sunshine.

You hear the people behind you scream in delight at Bokuto beaming at them.

However, you do not know why, but you feel like his eyes are pinned onto you, and only you, as if he’s trying to tell you, ‘I did it!’ to your face.

Bokuto turns around, and walks forward with a dense aura of confidence surrounding him, ready to serve another win. The rival team’s arrogant grins drop to the floor at the sudden turn of events, their feet standing at the edge when Bokuto suddenly becomes this huge, towering predator about to feast. 

Meanwhile, his teammates rejoice at the return of their ace. Akaashi even offers you a grateful smile from below, which you gladly return.

The whistle blows, putting the court into silence again. Everyone, including you, has their gaze on Bokuto, but then, the unexpected occurs.

Bokuto grips the volleyball, and looks up at you in the bleachers with the most vibrant grin you’ve ever seen. He points his index finger towards you, as if he is passing on the spotlight to you. His voice, radiating pure energy and… admiration, declares:

“Y/N… THIS NEXT ONE IS FOR YOU!”

⋆.𐙚 ̊. KUROO TETSUROU, he tries to appear fine, but his brain goes all haywire before you.

“Kuroo. You have to stop. You have been repeating the same joke for days, it’s not even funny anymore,” You facepalm, hiding your face in your palm because you are so done.

Your ears are nearly bleeding from hearing the familiar joke for five days straight. Somehow, Kuroo still finds it funny, even altering the tone and build-up of the joke every time he says it. He has gotten to the point where you don’t have energy to even react anymore, yet he continues laughing by himself like a lunatic.

“You’re probably thinking that your facial muscles deserve to relax from my amazing jokes, but…” Kuroo breathes in deep, “What kind of fish is made out of two sodium atoms?”

A loud agonising groan leaves your mouth, barely audible from you pressing your face closer to your palm. You wish to dig a hole, and bury yourself in it, never leaving it to see the sunlight. You especially do not wish to see Kuroo Tetsurou’s face again while you are embraced by the soil. You do not want him to be the gardener who tends to the soil.

You do not want to hear his chemistry jokes again, but you still force yourself to answer with a monotonous tone, “2-Na…”

As if you tickled his pickle, Kuroo bursts out into a big fit of laughter again, cackling so hard he holds onto his sides to prevent himself from sliding off his chair. He wheezes, attempting to catch his breath, but then breaks out into continuous laughter again.

You are too humiliated to face him. Everyone is looking at you in the cafe. The staff, the customers, the ones who are busy having a Zoom meeting, and the ones who have earphones plugged in with music. You don’t dare to stare back at them. You can already feel their annoyance drilling at the back of your head.

In a state of great embarrassment, you silently mumble, “Tetsurou… Stop laughing, oh my god, everyone is looking at us… I’m gonna cry.”

Like the gods have finally taken pity on you, or maybe the world is about to reach its finale, the laughter suddenly ceases.

“Seems like calling you by your first name does take you off guard, huh?” You mutter to yourself, still shielding your face.

You thank whoever is aiding you in the background, the gods, your guardian angel, whoever it is. The long-earned silence eases into your mind, making your shoulders relax. The near sounds of typing reach your ears, followed by the humming noises of the cafe’s espresso machine.

However, the silence reaches the point where it feels… Strange. Too strange. Kuroo is too quiet. Is he alive? Perhaps he laughed too much, his lungs gave up and popped like balloons?

Your head looks up, expecting to witness a lifeless Kuroo spread on the table, but the sight before you, deems you speechless.

Kuroo Tetsurou is blushing. He’s not just blushing red in the cheeks, but his entire face, to the tips of his ears. Crimson red brushes over his tanned skin like fairydust. Not to mention, his eyes, both unfocused and in a daze, with nothing in them. He gawks at you stupidly, as if he’s drunk too much alcohol into his system.

Kuroo opens his mouth to speak, but nothing, not a word, manages to stumble out of his throat. He immediately shuts up, and quickly covers up the lower part of his face. The way he is currently acting elicits great concern from you. This is not the confident and playful Kuroo you know, more like a high school girl who has taken over his tall, muscular body.

“Um… Kuroo, are you okay? You look like you are about to die.”

No shit, he’s about to die because of you. He doesn’t say it out, and instead, takes in a very deep breath, slowly easing the tightness of his limbs, letting his high-valley shoulders relax. He counts himself down: three, two… no, five, four, three… He tries. Keyword, tries.

He attempts to speak again, but only a jumble of mess is enunciated.

He groans in anguish, and in one quick second, lets his head fall onto the table. A loud thud reverberates through the cafe’s walls, making heads turn towards the commotion. Your concern grows even larger at Kuroo’s uncharacteristic antics, so you reach out for his hand at the side, but to your surprise, he ends up yelping.

You blink in astonishment when he lets out a sound like that, exposing a terrible red mark on his forehead that somehow blends in with his flustered expression.

“T-This…” He gulps, gripping the corner of the table so tightly, his knuckles turn bony white, “This is so unfair…”

Wait, is Kuroo Tetsurou pouting?

The raven-haired boy takes a swig of the hot black coffee in front of him. Bitter! He nearly spits it out, but forces himself to chug through it. The strong bitterness conquers his throat, and hits him like a truck, bringing him back to reality.

“This is fine. I’m fine,” Proceeds to drink another big sip of black coffee.

Kuroo doesn’t bring this up again, never. When you dare bring it up in front of any of his friends, he clamps your mouth shut as fast as lightning. This leads to his friends, especially Bokuto, getting on his knees to beg for this precious piece of gossip. He swears loyalty to Kuroo, but in the end, he has also been rejected.

The reason is simple. He doesn’t want anyone knowing this, a little secret shared between the two of you— solely yours, and his.

He remembers how his heart fluttered at the sound of his first name rolling off your tongue. It was and still is the most perfect memory he will hold close, to the childlike heart of his that beats only for you.

⋆.𐙚 ̊. KITA SHINSUKE, he doesn't react dramatically, but he does like it a bit too much.

The volleyball team is busy with diving drills again, their shoes squeaking against the smooth tiles of the practice court. The entire team has been working hard for days, only taking breaks when necessary. They might even die of dehydration if you aren’t there.

A big match is coming soon, and the coach has been pressuring them to be at the top of their game for it, ensuring that every flaw is fixed, and that they don’t commit any mistakes. 

You huff, crossing your arms in deep thought. Just how important is this match anyway? It’s not like they aren’t the best. Your pride and joy is this volleyball team, and your trust in them has never faltered.

At the corner of your eye, you have noticed that the team’s morale is getting low, especially with how exhausted they are with practising endlessly. Even Atsumu, fantastic setter, mood-maker, the one who’s always shouting ‘one more!’ can’t take it no more.

Kita is no better. Although he is one of the most disciplined, hardworking, stable members of the team, you can see the tiniest cracks beginning to form at the edges. Being a captain means having multiple responsibilities, but he’s always managed to handle them without breaking a sweat. Yet, you notice the slight sluggish movements when he heads to receive the ball.

It doesn’t take long before your other friends approach you in aid of your support.

“L/N, please. Aran tried, and he left lookin’ like he jus’ saw a ghost. Yer the closest to him, so ya need to help him. He’s gone bonkers,” Osamu voices out his concern in full seriousness.

Suna shakes his head, and adds, “Our captain is suffering from a mental illness. He’s nearing death, I can feel it.”

Then, the blond twin screeches with agony, “PLEASE, YA OUR ONLY HOPE. I JUS’ SAW HIM GIVIN’ OUT A WATER BOTTLE TO NO ONE! EMPTY SPACE! INVISIBLE MAN!” He pauses, and continues after a deep exhale, “KITA ALSO SMILED AT ME TODAY, FOR THE FIRST TIME! HE’S SCARIN’ ME, L/N. I CAN’T—”

Cut to the scene where you are standing in front of the door to the court, anxiety prickling on your skin. Regret drowns out the loud hits of the ball inside, and also your own peace. You can’t believe you are doing this, throwing away your pride and dignity, just for the sake of the team. A living sacrifice, that’s what you are.

Atsumu owes you a month’s worth of banana milk.

“Here goes nothing…” You mutter to yourself, and step inside, walking towards the members practising their receives.

You stand behind Kita, a few metres away from his back, and call out, “Shinsuke, it’s time to take a break.”

FWOOSH!

The ball that he has initially prepared to receive suddenly bounces off his wrists at a weird angle, sending it soaring to the side. Thankfully, no one has gotten hurt, except that everyone has gotten stunned not at your sudden appearance, but at Kita’s reaction.

The captain, his back still facing you, slowly shifts back to a normal standing position, like a robot low on battery. For some reason, your heart thumps loudly in your ears, in fear of him not liking you calling him by his first name.

Just when you are about to say something, Kita turns around with an evident look of worry, “I apologise for that, L/N.”

“No, it’s okay…” You internally punch yourself, because Kita doesn’t seem to be fazed at all.

However, to your surprise, he does listen to you, and announces to the team, “Take a break, everyone. Good job. Be back in fifteen.”

That’s how you end up sitting on one of the benches, rethinking your life’s decisions, when Kita joins you. He takes a seat beside you, back straight, and the two of you sit in awkward silence.

Your shoulders tense up like bricks built on top of bricks, while Kita drinks water calmly without a care for your crumbling world.

“I’m sorry for calling you by your given name without asking, Kita. I won’t do it again,” Your head dips down low in self-disappointment.

The silence returns, even thicker than before. You sigh internally, unsure of what to do anymore, feeling helpless as the situation unfolds.

“Ya don’t need to apologise,” Kita continues to gaze at the cascading sunset rays, peeking from outside the door. It’s beautiful. Then, his gaze drifts off to the side, and he sees you in your full appearance.

The way your lower lip slightly juts out when things go wrong, like now. When your shoulders slouch a little from feeling dejected. Your fingers that twirl when you are faced with silence, and the way you call out to him, like it’s the most natural thing anyone can do in this universe.  He notices it all, the tiny things that make him yearn.

So, he doesn’t stop his yearning, and fishes out a handkerchief from his pocket, and uses it to wipe off the sweat on your forehead.

Your heart is going a thousand miles per hour. You are sweating even more now, but Kita continues to brush the fabric across your skin, like you’re the world’s most fragile item to him.

Kita Shinsuke allows the corners of his lips to quirk up into a rare, gentle smile. One that makes people fall straight into his arms, a smile that even Aphrodite gets jealous of. Kita is attractive, but a smiling Kita is the end of the world.

Caringly, he tucks the fallen strands of hair behind your ear, and you know it’s already too late, there’s no going back when he admits to you—

“I like it. Ya can continue usin’ it all ya like.”

If the gods are watching all the time, as his grandma said, he thanks them for giving him the greatest blessing of all time, the chance to hear his name fall off your lips.

Who knows, he might just get a little bit closer to you, day by day, just to hear it again.

…

“OH MY GOD, ‘M GONNA CRY, THEY LOOK LIKE THAT ONE K-DRAMA WE WATCHED, ‘SAMU!” Atsumu screeches from outside the door, his tuff of mustard hair poking out at the side.

Aran shuts him up by clamping his hand over the loud boy’s mouth, forcing him to yell out incoherent words. Yet, Aran’s eyes remain pinned on the newly established situationship, “Lord, have mercy on me, ‘m becomin’ a godfather soon…”

⋆.𐙚 ̊. MIYA ATSUMU, that one super popular guy everyone chases after.

Thud, thud, thud! A girl stomps down the hallway, shoulders shaking dramatically with each sob. Everyone turns their heads in curiosity, and you are not an exception.

“Poor girl…” Your friend comments, shaking her head solemnly.

Your head tilts to the side, eager to question her, “You know what happened?”

Your friend closes her locker shut after grabbing the required books for your next class together. Then, she chuckles, but her expression remains almost sympathetic to the crying girl, “C’mon, it’s easy to guess, Y/N.” She continues, “I bet Miya Atsumu rejected someone again. She’s probably the poor victim of a failed confession.”

Oh.

Hearing that reminds you of a fear that you have buried deep within your heart. The fear of being rejected by the person you have admired your entire life. The very same person who has just broken a girl’s heart.

The devil heeds your calls, and there he is. The only person who makes your world a little better, and a little worth living.

Miya Atsumu struts down the hall like a Greek god sculpted in real life. Following him at the side is his grey counterpart. The Miyas have truly made a name for themselves in Inarizaki High School. No doubt that they have effortlessly become the school’s most wanted pair of twins, or well, most thirsted for. Their excelling in volleyball and being super hot while doing so is also another feat.

For some reason though, your eyes have always drifted towards the blond one only. You won’t call it blond, he looks more of a mustard-kind of yellow. Suits his attitude. You’ve heard he’s got quite a way with his words. Heck, you have no idea why you are even crushing on him. It’s like some kind of magnetic force revolves around him, and you just can’t help but admire his entire being.

“Um… Y/N… Psst! Y/N!”

You snap out of your trance when your friend suddenly nudges you at the side. Surprised and still in shock, you blink twice to confirm your sight. Is Miya Atsumu standing in front of you right now, or are you hallucinating?

No, you are certainly not hallucinating. This blond dude is towering over you, with a very, very wide grin on his lips. You have never even seen him smile at someone this big before. It almost scares you, if you aren’t that into him. And god, oh god, he’s staring straight at you. It is at this moment that you have completely forgotten how to speak or even move.

You are frozen, gawking stupidly at him as if you’ve just seen dinosaurs.

“Did’ja make this keychain yerself?” He asks you a question.

A question that immediately makes you look down at your bag, nearly snapping your neck from how fast you’ve moved. Right. It has just left your mind that you are in the middle of placing books into your bag, which is why you are hugging your bag close to you.

Your eyes search and finally land on a little keychain that dangles at the main zipper of your bag. A cute little onigiri crochet keychain. You have handmade it yourself during your free time, thinking it would be a fun project to do.

“Y-Yes…?” You accidentally stutter out the one word you’re tasked to say. Oh gosh, you are going to beat yourself up later. 

Atsumu hums, and, out of nowhere, reaches out for the onigiri keychain, feeling it in his palm. He squishes it, then watches with visible heart-eyes as it recoils. He squishes it again, again, and again. You are completely stunned, wondering if something is wrong with your keychain, because Atsumu won’t stop squishing it.

Even his twin brother shares the same worry, as he comes forward and delivers a light slap to his twin’s nape, “‘Tsumu, yer scarin’ them, stop bein’ such a freak.”

“Ow! Stop hittin’ me! Abuse!” Atsumu winces in pain, rubbing the red spot on his nape, before turning back to your confused figure, “Besides, ain’t this onigiri keychain cute to ya?!”

Osamu facepalms, rolling his eyes in dread, “And ya couldn’t have given a regular compliment instead of harassin’ someone’s property?”

At this point, everyone is now gathering in the hallways, watching the show unfold as the Miya brothers begin descending into another sibling fight. Some take out their phones to record the scene.

“If you think it’s cute… Would you like one too?” Your voice stops the shouting insults being thrown back and forth.

Atsumu blinks once, and twice, then cocks his head to the side, an adorable tiny ‘huh’ coming out of his mouth. Even Osamu has paused his bickering. Now, all the cameras are on you, and you have never felt this embarrassed before. However, if it means being able to do a good deed for someone, then you don’t mind.

You fumble through your bag, eyebrows furrowed as you search the sections. “I actually crocheted two, so there should be another one in my bag… It’s also a keychain, basically a duplicate of mine.”

Finally, something fluffy and solid touches your hand. You fish it out, and hand the other onigiri keychain to Miya Atsumu, your lips drawing up to a small smile, “Here. You can have it.”

You might be doing this because you have admired Atsumu for a long time, but it’s also because the keychain has been sitting at the bottom of your bag for ages, and you haven’t gifted it to anyone else. Besides, it’s not like you have any chance with Atsumu anyway. Doing this is just an act of kindness. That’s it.

However, the look in Atsumu’s eyes prove else. You don’t notice it, as you are too afraid to even stare up at him. Yet, his twin brother notices a certain spark in his eyes, a childlike glimmer that peers through his brown eyes, similar to the spark he wears when he has just gone through a satisfying volleyball match.

Atsumu silently looks at the onigiri keychain in his hands. It’s adorable. So cute. It’s so small compared to his palm size.

Somehow, the enticing words that Atsumu is programmed to say, suddenly meet a blockage in his throat. For once, Atsumu feels his own words betraying him. He doesn’t know what to think or to say, only a meek, “Thanks…”

His breath gets stuck in his lungs, and he doesn’t even know why. Atsumu decides to project his confusing feelings into the keychain, suffocating the onigiri in his palm. During that moment, the silence grows thick, and you are left with more bewilderment.

Thank goodness, Osamu comes to save the day by faking a cough, giving his brother a slight nudge on the shoulder. Atsumu squeaks, his entire being jerking up. It’s almost uncharacteristic of him to do so, and it becomes a source of good content for the Inarizaki students filming.

Atsumu’s face grows hot all of a sudden, and in a fit of panic, the only words that stumble out of his big mouth are, “T-THANKS FOR THIS! Uhh… um…! Yer name? RIGHT! WHAT’S YER NAME? S-So… So I can thank ya properly…”

He hopes you don’t notice the red dusted across his cheeks, or the way he’s suffocating your poor onigiri keychain. He’s too humiliated to do anything.

You see a new side of the great Miya Atsumu, and find joy in it; you can’t help but giggle at him, “I’m L/N Y/N, and you are welcome.”

“L/N Y/N…” He repeats it, letting your name roll off his tongue. He won’t admit how he enjoys saying your name. Not now. Never ever. Nuh-uh.

By the sidelines, Osamu hides an amused smirk under his visage, finding this entire situation humorous. He might have just become a witness to what might seem the best blackmail material of Atsumu’s life. However, for this instance, he will just keep quiet, letting his twin relish the moment.

Osamu also doesn’t comment on how Atsumu proudly wears the onigiri keychain on his school bag. He also decides to neglect the fact that Atsumu forgot to log out of his Instagram account on Osamu’s phone when he was bored at practice and forgot to bring his own.

He does smirk a little though, when he sees a familiar name on Atsumu’s latest search on Instagram.

⋆.𐙚 ̊. OIKAWA TOORU, that one top-scorer in your class everyone wants to be with.

Oikawa Tooru is an all-rounder. He’s the captain of the Volleyball Team, and he’s even earned a title for himself, ‘The Great King’. Well, you sometimes cringe at the title, but you do acknowledge it as his effort.

However, it is hard to fathom how he can excel in sports and academics simultaneously.

Being in the same class teaches you things about Oikawa. He’s scarily dedicated to the things he loves. His love for volleyball wins hands down compared to other things. You have seen how he pushes himself through injuries, coming to class every day despite suffering from a terrible knee injury. Not just that, he continues going to practice, dragging his injured knee behind him.

Even with all of that, Oikawa still manages to get straight A’s in his academics. Heck, in a college-prep class!

It frustrates you, because you can’t catch up with his grades no matter what. He’s always better than you. Yet, you think he’s the most perfect guy to exist in the universe. Oikawa is the reason why your standard for men is so high.

So, it shocks you when Oikawa comes up to you, straight after the bell rings. You nearly drop your books as he sits on the chair in front of you to talk. It’s the first time you are seeing Oikawa up close, and god, he’s making you shy already.

“L/N-chan, do you want to be my groupmate for the physics project?” He gives you a closed-eye smile, blinding you with his infectious grin.

The realisation that Oikawa wants you to be his groupmate for a project hits you hard like a missile. Is this a dream? Or is this reality? Oikawa has never worked with you on any projects before, nor has he talked to you during the year. The most interaction is a mere wave of a hand when passing by each other down the hallways. You initially thought that he didn’t even recognise your name.

It seems that you lied to yourself, because Oikawa Tooru does know your name.

“Me? Sure…” You don’t question his request further, thinking it will be weird to ask too many questions. Oikawa also appears to be the kind of person who won’t waste time on anything. You decide to keep quiet.

However, nothing could have prepared you for the fact that the next day, Oikawa Tooru asked to discuss the project. And it’s as if Lady Luck is playing a game with you; the library is closed for renovation. The court is also closed today due to a recent water leak (like what the heck). With nothing else, he initially opted for a nearby cafe, but then it was also closed for break.

You were about to cry, until Oikawa suggested with an awkward grin, “How about we do it at your house instead? It’s alright if you are uncomfortable about it though, we can have this discussion another day.”

You were about to cry EVEN MORE. However, knowing that the project is about to be due soon, you grit your teeth, dragging Oikawa to your house around the corner.

And so, here you are, a teenager, with a teenage boy sitting on your room’s floor. The two of you can sense the awkward tension in the air. You feel like you’ve sinned, because a guy is in your room. How will your parents react? Oh god, your mind is running around in circles with no end.

Oikawa clears his throat, attempting to clear the air by suggesting that they start the project. Soon, the heavy cloud of tension clears gradually, while your discussion advances.

“I think we can build our bridge like this. This amount of wooden popsicles should be enough for it to hold up ten kilograms of load,” Oikawa comments, showing you the piece of paper with his draft on it. Neat handwriting covers a detailed amount of information. Next to it is a simple drawing of a wooden bridge he’s created.

However, you squint your eyes, looking closer at the paper he’s provided you. At that moment, Oikawa notices how your nose is scrunched up as you examine the information. You look very focused and smart, unlike the shy personality you’ve displayed recently.

“No.”

Oikawa blinks in confusion, repeating, “No?”

“No, I don’t think it will be enough. But I do love your idea, and I think we can strengthen it. Since wooden popsicles are covered with wax, the glue won’t stick well. We should lightly sand the parts we are going to use glue on, and…”

Oikawa has paused listening.

It’s the first time Oikawa has just had someone tell him ‘no’. Being surrounded by fangirls and admirers all the time greatly bored Oikawa. No matter what he does, they always praise him, preaching that his ways are the best and flawless. Even the previous groupmates he’s chosen for other projects. It’s like they all treat him as a… God.

Hence, when you correct his idea, and take his opinion into account, Oikawa feels like a human again, doing mundane tasks. No exaggerated praises, no screaming, no having to put up an act.

Oikawa is a normal teenager doing a project, and heaven bless, he has just chosen the best groupmate ever.

“This is actually giving me a headache. Let’s take a break,” You sigh, and instantly lie flat on your bed like a pancake. Oikawa stifles his laughter, finding it funny how quickly you can switch up your behaviour.

He gazes softly at you, the golden sunset slowly cascading through your windows, kissing your skin. “Hmm, in the meantime, I think we can schedule our next discussion, L/N-chan. How about the cafe we went to earlier?”

Oikawa gives you a genuine smile, a rare one, “My treat.”

⋆.𐙚 ̊. AKAASHI KEIJI, that best friend that's way too out of your league.

“You shouldn't keep plucking your lips, Y/N. It'll end up bleeding.”

Akaashi, your best friend, and also your seatmate, reminds you. No response. It falls onto deaf ears as you continue nibbling your lips together, letting the dead skin fall onto the ground.

The boy sighs defeated, seeing your dazed expression. Your dull gaze, lifeless eyes, stare outside of the window silently. Not even a single soul manages to snap you out of it. He wonders what has gone wrong today for you. 

However, what he doesn't know is that he's the reason behind your solemn behaviour.

Akaashi is going on his first date this weekend, with a girl who he barely knows. All it took was one single confession, and one box of chocolates. Then, the big question popped up. It was evident the girl had a big fat crush on the boy.

Well, who doesn't? Akaashi is born sculpted inch by inch from the gods.

You watched in disbelief by the sidelines as Akaashi’s lips slowly rose to a smile. Then, he says something to the girl, which you can't decipher at all. You feel like something is happening, something that you have feared for long. It's the first time you're seeing Akaashi behaving so… Naturally friendly to a girl.

Perhaps, Akaashi really accepted her date?

It's ironic, really. Being his best friend and his seatmate for two whole years, you've stood by his side, waiting for a day that maybe, just maybe, Akaashi might figure out he likes you a little too much.

But, nothing ever seems to change. Akaashi treats you the same way as he does to everyone else, just a tad bit kinder. He also speaks to you more, because everyone else is too intimidated by him. And, he always partners up with you for any projects, helps you with your homework when you are facing trouble. Heck, he even allows you to watch him practise when you are bored after school.

Akaashi is a great guy, and he's the most amazing friend you've ever had.

So why, why can't you just simply move on, forget about your feelings for him, let the friendship proceed as usual before anyone gets hurt?

Your Friday study session ends up getting filled with dejected thoughts about Akaashi again. It's been a long time since you've flipped the books, perhaps today is the day you need to return to reality.

Then, your phone rings. It's Bokuto.

“Hello—”

“L/N! OH MY GOD, SOMETHING REALLY BAD JUST HAPPENED AT PRACTICE! I DON'T EVEN KNOW HOW TO DESCRIBE IT BECAUSE IT'S BAD.”

Hearing this, you perk up immediately, slamming your books shut. Your expression morphs into one of concern, despite Bokuto not being able to see it. The panic in Bokuto’s voice is evident, and he doesn't seem like he's playing a prank or anything.

You gulp, slinging your bag onto one side of your shoulder, ready to take off, “I need you to calm down, Bokuto. What happened?”

The next words he says, collapse onto your head like heavy rainfall.

“AKAASH GOT HURT!”

You take off running, instantly, letting your footsteps known to the whole school as you run, and run as fast as you can, to the school's volleyball court.

Slamming the doors open with a bang, your lungs are burning from the sudden cardio, causing your breaths to become harsh and quick. It makes it hard for you to open your eyes and breathe, even. However, you push past all your fatigue, and sprint inside the court without catching a breath.

The owl-captain comes into sight, and you call out for him. But before you can, your eyes dart to the side. A familiar boy appears sitting on the bleachers, alone, and with two rolled-up tissues stuck up into his nostrils.

“Akaashi…?” You murmur out, as you reluctantly approach him like a dead man alive.

Is he having a nosebleed?

The boy looks up, and he blinks at you, before questioning, “...Y/N? What are you doing here?” His voice slightly nasal from the tissues in his nose.

Your eyes shift from Bokuto, then Akaashi in disbelief. It's as if you have interrupted something, but you are too confused to even understand the situation.

However, Akaashi with his quick analyzing skills, immediately turns his head towards Bokuto with a glare, who's sheepishly grinning ear-to-ear. “Bokuto-san, did you call Y/N here? What did he tell you, Y/N?”

The sudden interrogation leaves you stunned, but your worry is still imminent, “He… um, he told me you were injured, and that it was very bad, so I ran here.” You bite down on your lip hard, wanting to bury yourself deep into the ground.

This interaction with Akaashi doesn't help much with your feelings. You really want to leave.

“HAHAHA! Anyways, you two can go have a little chit chat by the benches! Rest up, Akaash! Gonna go do some practice serves real quick!” Bokuto flees as quickly as he appears, leaving the two of you on the bleachers, with an awkward silence dwelling above.

Akaashi starts it off by shaking his head, “I'm sorry for Bokuto. It's nothing bad. I just suddenly had a nosebleed, probably due to the heat nowadays,” He then looks up at you, and you swear, something shifts inside his gaze, “But thank you for worrying about me, Y/N.”

You can't take it anymore. The words end up leaving your mouth before you can even process them, “Akaashi… You should stop being so close to me now that you're seeing someone. It won't do you good.”

To your surprise, Akaashi makes a noise of confusion, his visage also puzzled, “I don't recall seeing anyone, Y/N.”

A moment of silence for the both of you. His sentence leaves you bewildered, what does he mean? At that second, something clicks in Akaashi’s mind, like the final puzzle piece finally fits into the empty space.

“I’m not going on a date with that girl, Y/N, if that's what you're wondering about. You've misunderstood. I merely wanted to politely reject the chocolates she gave me. Nothing else.”

Oh.

You feel stupid. A sack of potatoes slap you in the face for your stupidity. The humiliation seels in, and you don't dare to stare at Akaashi anymore. It's too embarrassing, how can you reach conclusions like that without even asking him?

Then, something warm touches your hand, “Y/N. Your lips are bleeding again.”

Your heart is nearly beating out of your chest. The drums and vibrations echo in your ear loudly, because of one man before you, who has nothing else to lose.

Akaashi Keiji is touching your hand.

“Please stop plucking your lips, Y/N. It'll hurt you.”

He gently brushes his thumb over the back of your palm, putting a final stop to the negative thoughts in your head, “If it hurts you, it also hurts me. I don't like seeing you in pain.”

...

In the distance, Bokuto wears a prideful grin, putting his hands onto his hips like he's just won the lottery, “Well? Whaddya say? I AM THE BEST MATCHMAKER OF JAPAN! HAHAHA!”