❀⋆SUNKISSED⋆❀

୨୧ writing fics, sharing art, headcannons, stories, oneshots, matchups ୨୧

current event(s): Build-A-Story (300 followers event)

requests are open, matchups are closed

Results are in! The masses have spoken, and your chosen main character is Kenma Kozume. Seeing as there were no story outline requests, the story will begin as I have planned out.

Chapter 1: Rain

Light sprinkles of rain slowly slid down the window of my classroom. What was once a sunny day had increasingly become cold and cloudy, eventually leading to a downpour of rain that only continued becoming heavier as the day progressed. And the cherry on top is the fact that I held my umbrella in my hands before leaving the house today, took a good, long look at it, and decided that I wouldn't need it because it 'doesn't look like it'll rain'.

Dang it.

Though, I have to stay back late at school today for club activities; maybe the rain will have stopped by then. I'm really not looking to buy an umbrella on the way home, or have to share one with somebody.

As I place a newly stretched canvas onto my easel, the sound of the rain begins to subside, and my view from my club-room window tells me that the skies are clearing up. I exhale a sigh of relief as I am no longer worrying about commuting home in the rain, by myself, in soaked clothes.

I wear my headphones, drowning out the scattered voices of my club-mates.

I'm pretty slow at most of the things that I do. Be it reading the room, or understanding a concept, I sometimes take a while to notice the things around me.

I'm also slow at painting, which is why I enjoy my club-time. I have so much time to sketch my idea on paper, transfer my sketch by painting the main shapes on canvas, under-painting, blocking in main colors, shapes, adding details, a layer of gloss..

And noticing that:

1: All of my club-mates seem to have long since left because: 2: It's now raining even heavier than before, and: 3: I don't have an umbrella.

I sit in silence for a moment, hands covered in paint with a true crime podcast playing through my headphones.

Wow.

Might as well get going; doesn't look like it'll stop anytime soon.

Stood at the gates of the school, I take a deep breath, bracing myself as the rain slowly subsides. Given what happened earlier, I make a note to get home as quickly as I can while the rain is at a slower speed. Zipping up my hooded jacket, I walk at a steady pace - I don't want to risk tripping and falling in the rain.

Though, as expected, my pace quickens in line with the rapid increase of rain. My cotton jacket becomes soaked, with the water seeping through to my uniform. I frantically search for the nearest place to take shelter. My sights set on the bus stop seating area across the street, and I immediately make my way towards it.

Placing my bag onto the seat, I sigh as I slump down, dripping in water from head to toe. I remove my jacket, wringing it out in front of me as the rain continues to pour even heavier than before.

Though, I can't shake the feeling that I'm being.. watched? Glancing to the side through the corner of my eye, I notice another person sitting next to me, way less soaked than I am, staring at me.

Am I being.. judged?

I don't recognise him, but he's wearing the sport uniform from my school. I can't get a good look at his face, so I don't know what grade he could be in. Though he's staring so intently that I feel like he wants to say something but is waiting for me to notice.

Should I talk to him? I mean, it's kind of awkward just sitting here..

── .✦ Open a conversation? Or leave him hanging?

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ᝰ.ᐟ Build-A-Story (Haikyuu Event)

Hello everyone! This is a long, long due 300 followers event! For this event, the story is in YOUR hands! Each large development in the story will require voting from the viewers to decide the outcome. There will be two options for each story. At the end of the story, a question will be asked, and a 'Yes', and 'No' voting poll will be provided. If the majority votes 'Yes', the decision will be followed and a continuation to the story will be provided. If the majority votes 'No', the decision will not be followed, and the story will either be concluded, or remain as is. The theme and plot of the story will be revealed in the next post. However, it is up for deliberation if you have a certain theme you'd like to be included. Read my 'note' at the bottom of the post for more information. Remember to choose carefully as your decision will influence the outcome of the story! This story will be written from first person perspective, so there is no need for a 'protagonist', technically speaking.

Now, we can't write a story without a main character, right? So, your first decision is as follows:

── .✦ Who will be your main character?

Note: I will be accepting requests to shift tones within the story such as ideas for conversations, plot twists, events and themes. Either comment them, or send in a request. If not, the story will continue as I have planned it out.

Keiji Akaashi

Part 1 - Part 2 - Requested (in a comment) by @vikikipp

Tears poured into the pillow below me, muffling the sobs that came along. His last message replayed in my head, over and over: 'Please, don't leave me'.

I refused to respond to sound of notifications emitting from my phone. One, two, three... four...

Then, they slowed down one by one until the sound stopped. Completely.

This is what I had decided, right? To cut him off. To cut off somebody who was so clearly in need of a person to talk to - in need of me.

I slept to the sound of my own guilt.

Kageyama Tobio

“I can’t have anything in the way between my fingertips and the ball whatsoever.” - Is what Kageyama replied with when you asked him why he was so particular about his hands - especially his nails. It really took you by surprise how much effort he put into keeping them short. However, his nails weren’t the only thing he had to maintain.

As the weather started to cool down, you’d notice him complaining that his skin felt really dry and tight. You offered to let him use your moisturiser, which he didn’t mind - before the overwhelmingly flowery scent of it engulfed his nostrils. And so the complaints rose up once more.

This led you to decided to pick up something that might solve his little dilemma; well, maybe more than just once thing. Despite your chosen items being a little pricey, you went through with it and decided to call him after he finished practice - the plan was to give them to him as soon as he was free.

I never did get anything done when I studied past midnight – my brain always seems to shut off as soon as even an ounce of sleepiness sets in. Though I remain staring at my screen, my eyes are no longer able to focus on what is in front of me. Time and time again, I doubt my skills, somehow surprising myself whenever I exceed my expectations. I always achieve my goals and my results are great – though for some reason, I can’t help but stress about it all. 

I want to succeed. I don’t just want to pass, I want to prove that I can achieve even higher than what I’ve done before. 

But to who? Who am I proving this to other than myself?

I sigh, shutting the laptop with more force than intended, the sudden movement jolting the weight on my shoulder.

“You scared me.” He murmurs before continuing the flow of repetitive video scrolling on his phone.

His sudden speech snapped me out of my exhaustion fueled daydream, and with the gleam of the laptop finally out of my eyes, fatigue begins to slowly set in. Sliding the laptop onto the coffee table in front of me, I stretch my arms out with a dramatic groan. Lifting his head off my now numb arm, he sinks into the cushion behind him with a slump. His arm wraps around me, warmth tracing along my shoulder. “Finished for today?” His gentle voice asks. 

I paused for a moment. Am I finished? Or am I just being lazy? I tilt my head to the side – whether out of tiredness or disagreement – I’m not sure. Lips pursed, I pick at my fingernails that have only been getting shorter the more I’ve been doing so. Finally, I muster up some consciousness to speak a few words of desperate plea to what seems like myself.

“..Do you think I can–“

“Yes.” His voice cuts through mine. “You can.” His tone isn't sharp, but something about it surprises me. I tilt my head to look at him with an expression that reads: 'Huh?'

He raises an eyebrow. “You were going to ask me if I think you can get top scores again, right?” 

I nod slowly. A gentle smile curves his lips as he leans his head onto mine. “You always do, and I think you can do it again, and again,” his other hand finds its way to mine, fingers lacing together. “And again.”

Leaning into the warmth of his body, I yawn. “You really think so?” I murmured softly, succumbing to my drowsiness. His hum of agreement is the last thing I hear before falling completely unconscious. 

There’s no need to stress over something that I’ve done so much already; I’ve done it before, so what makes me think I won’t be able to do it again?

SUGAWARA KOUSHI!!!!!! kuroo tetsuro, azumane asahi, suna? rintaro?, TADASHI YAMAGUCHI, akaashi keiji, KIYOOMI SAKUSA. oikawa toru!

Baking shenanigans Bokuto Kotaro, Yamaguchi Tadashi

@shadowpeachs - from my 'wip ideas' event

The two of you were exhausted, having craved something sweet all week. So, why not turn it into something fun?

✮ - Bokuto Kotaro

"Most bakeries sell brownies these days," You sighed as Bokuto pulled into the parking lot of your local grocery store. "Why not just buy them instead?"

"Where's the fun in that?" He chirped, pulling the handbrake and opening the door of the car before rushing over to open yours.

Walking through the isles, the two of you picked up various ingredients as he explained that he planned on making them from scratch, insisting that he wanted the 'full experience'. After making your selections and paying for the items, it was time to head home and get started.

You weren't exactly a sweets connoisseur, and neither was he. But, brownies were supposed to be super simple to make, right?

Lifting an apron above your head, you urged him to do the same for himself; stifling a laugh at the sight of him struggling to tie a knot at his back. Once that was settled, the two of you agreed on a recipe and began measuring the ingredients, placing them in individual bowls. Holding an egg in one hand, he asked you to watch as he attempted it to crack it open, effectively crushing it and rendering it almost unusable.

“You.. What were you trying to achieve?” An exasperated sigh exited you alongside your words.

“I always see chefs do this when they’re cooking on those TV shows..!” He frowned, a confused pout forming on his face.

A small smile tugged at your lips as you patted his shoulder. It wasn’t like the recipe was ruined!

You picked the pieces off egg shell out from the bowl, and asked him to prepare the flour. Just as you were washing your hands in the sink, you heard him grunting from behind the counter.

“This is sealed pretty tightly..” He remarked, tugging at the corners of the bag of flour.

“That’s fine, we can just cut it open.” You replied, expecting him to grab a pair of scissors in the meantime. However, as you turned back towards the cabinet to grab a pair of scissors, a yelp suddenly erupted.

Whipping your head around, you were met with a powdery faced Bokuto, his gaping mouth being the only identifiable feature on his face. Slowly, his eyes cracked open, finding yours in the midst of the chaos. The both of you fell silent, simply staring at one another for a few seconds before bursting into laughter. This whole baking thing definitely wasn’t for the two of you.

✮ - Yamaguchi Tadashi

"You're still up to hang out on the weekend, right?"

Yamaguchi's voice echoed through the speaker of your phone, laid atop your dresser as you prepared to head to sleep. The two of you had been so overwhelmed lately; work, commitments, studies - there simply hasn't been any time for you to see each other. So, as a way to wind down together, you suggested to meet up at your place to do something. Something that didn't involve intense thinking. Something fun!

You'd always been interested in baking, whether it was something small for yourself, or a gift for a friend, experimenting with different recipes and desserts was something you did often. However, baking with someone else would be an entirely different matter - either making things ten times more difficult, or ten times more enjoyable.

Eventually, the weekend rolled around. At home, you prepared the necessary ingredients for what you’d be making together. You’d both decided on something small - rocky road. Easy, simple and delicious; something that wouldn’t take too long.

A knock soon sounded from the front door to your apartment. Upon opening it, you were met with a smiling face, one that you hadn’t seen in weeks. After a few moments spent in eachothers embrace, you both headed to the kitchen.

“I read online that it tastes nicer if you mix milk and dark chocolate together.” You commented as you scooped up the chopped chocolate bark and placed it into a bowl.

“Really?” He hummed in reply. “I guess that’s what gives it a darker colour..”

As you melted the chocolate over a double boiler, he sorted through the candy that you had placed on the counter. Next, he added the different components to a large bowl.

Once the chocolate had been completely melted, you poured it over the candy mixture, instructing him to mix it with a spatula. In the meantime, you cleaned the dishes and packed away the bags of candy.

Though, turning your head to see him mixing, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was missing.

After he’d finished combining the mixture of candy and chocolate, he poured it into a lined baking tray. You’d both decided to let it sit for around an hour or so, and decided to watch a movie to pass the time.

You hadn’t had rocky road in such a long time, and so once the movie was over, you were pleasantly delighted to find that the chocolate had set and it was ready to eat.

Setting it onto the table, Yamaguchi insisted that he’d be the one to cut it. He simply couldn’t let you use something sharp when he was around to help.

Cutting into it was a bit of a struggle due to the slightly hardened texture of the gummies, and marshmallow sticking onto the blade of the knife. Though, it seemed your earlier suspicions had been correct, as one glance at the cross section of a slice told you all you needed to know.

“Come to think of it..” You muttered, turning your head to the kitchen counter where an unopened packet of digestive biscuits sat. “I didn’t pack these away - heck, they haven’t even been opened.”

“Shoot.” He laughed, pinching his nose bridge. “I completely forgot about those.”

“Oh well!” You giggled, taking a bite. “I guess this is our secret recipe - in it’s own way.”

The rocky road ended up being overwhelmingly sweet, slightly difficult to chew, and completely unlike what you had initially expected to end up with.

But spending time together wasn’t something you got to do often. So a simple mistake with a piece of candy wasn’t anywhere near enough to put you in a sour mood. Nowhere near enough to make you forget the sound of his laughter and brightness of his smile in this small space of time you’d spent together.

how would I know? suna rintaro

Chapter 2: more than just a friend

“You have a stomachache?”

“I think.”

“How do you think something like that?!”

The classroom door slid open. As he turned to see who it was, his stomach lurched once more. She took her seat across the classroom without paying an ounce of attention to him despite the daggers he stared. An odd feeling, one that he’d never known. Holding his stomach, he turned back to his friend who sat in front.

“Yeah, I think that’s what it is.”

Ever since their argument - if you could call it that - a couple days ago, minimal words had been exchanged between the two. He had no idea what was bothering her, but despite his attempts to smoothen the situation by continuing to hang out together, she didn’t budge.

It was practically eating away at him. A friend suddenly abandoning you without saying much wasn’t the easiest thing to get over. The mundane lecture of the teacher became nothing but background noise as his thoughts became consumed by memories of her.

Roommates Part 2

Sakusa Kiyoomi (fluff)

He'd mind his business, and you'd mind yours. You wouldn't get in each others way, nor would you have any issues. But it seems that the ice may soon be broken.

Dramatic music blared from the speakers of the TV as you popped a handful of popcorn into your mouth.

From the corner of your eye sat your roommate, arms begrudgingly folded as he looked like he’d rather be somewhere else.

“I’m not forcing you to sit here, you know.” As you turned your head to face him, his eyes remained glued to the screen.

A moment of silence passed where the only noise was that of the TV show.

“..I’m trying to watch the show.” He bluntly replied.

‘The audacity of this guy!’ You thought to yourself, mere seconds away from dropping an equally irritating reply. Clicking your tongue in annoyance, you turned your head back in the direction of the show, sure that you heard the sound of a scoff emit from his direction.

Time passed, and the two of you sat in silence, occasionally broken by the crunching of your popcorn. You decided to go for one more attempt at breaking the ice by offering him some popcorn; only to be met by a scowl that read ‘are you kidding me?’

“Do you know how unsanitary that is?” He questioned as you pulled the bowl back to your lap, hesitant to hear his explanation. “You’re eating from it - putting food into your mouth - and asking me if I want from the same bowl you just stuck your hands back into?”

It didn’t sound like it was directed against you specifically. Perhaps some people simply don’t feel comfortable eating from the same bowl as another person.

“Sorry.” You muttered, feeling a little embarrassed by your lack of consideration.

“It’s fine.” He sighed, his voice softer than before.

The two of you sat in silence for the remainder of the show.

Once it finished, you took the remote in your hand and pressed the ‘Off’ button, the remnants of light completely leaving the living room. As you stood from your seat on the couch in preparation to head to bed, you noticed that he hadn’t left to his own room despite his initial complaints that he was trying to sleep.

Taking a few careful steps towards him, you noticed that he’d dozed off on the couch. His dark curls sunk into the cushion of the headrest, arms gently clenching a pillow to his chest. His eyelashes flittered ever so slightly with each soft breath that he took - seeming completely different from his sharp personality.

You decided against waking him up - tapping him might freak him out a little, and if he woke up now, he might not be able to fall back asleep.

Careful not to make too much noise, you took the time to thoroughly wash your hands in the sink before grabbing a blanket from the dryer and draping it over him. He didn’t seem to notice, making no movements whatsoever the entire time.

Silently stepping into your room, you couldn’t get the image of his face as he slept out of your mind. His hair resting loosely on the couch, skin kissed by the gentle glow of the moonlight, with beauty marks that were slightly visible under the mass of curls that fell over them.

Sure he was a little prickly, but he was still your roommate, right? So why hadn’t you gotten to know him sooner?

Kenma insists that the upcoming exam worth 30% of both of your grades will be easy. That it's 'common knowledge' and that he's more than prepared. In fact, he wont even study the night before - because he's simply that prepared.

You, who has been in a whirl of panic recently, feels like shrieking at his attitude, wondering how on earth he could be so nonchalant about this entire thing.

Kenma complains at your complaints, telling you that he's always busy with practice - a futile attempt at sneaking away from the fact that club activities are always cancelled 2 weeks before exam season. So what is he doing in this free time? You just know that he's definitely not training on his own. You, on the other time, have been trying your best to make time to study for your exam, struggling to fine small pockets of study in your already packed schedule.

You glare at Kenma from the corner of your eye in class, frustrated that he has so much free time to be studying and is instead doing who knows what.

Tendo Satori

“Okay!” You huffed, crossing your arms over the apron you haphazardly put on. “Chocolate, filling, moulds, coconut oil…” Counting all the items you’d prepared for today, you made sure that nothing was missing. First impressions this and that, right?

When you joined the cooking club at the beginning of the year, you could hardly imagine yourself using by the kitchen-classroom to make chocolates for a boy.

Upon asking your friends about the types of sweets a guy might like, they all suggested chocolate like it was some sort of fact they’d known for years. But not just any plain old chocolate; it had to be handmade for the full ‘effect’. With that, you’d considered a few flavours that he might like; not that you knew anything about him other than the fact that he was in your schools Volleyball Club, and was pretty well known for his skills.

So how on earth did you get yourself in this situation in the first place, making chocolates for someone you’d never even spoken a word to before?

Nishinoya Yu

“You know.. you’re actually short.”

“Excuse me?”

Laid together on his bed, he had his arm wrapped around your back, with your phone propped up sideways against his chest. The background noise of different videos bounced off of the walls of his room. Specifically couples height comparison videos - with the elusive ‘6ft’ title being thrown around by most of the guys you’d seen.

You recognised that he wasn’t exactly tall, but height wasn’t exactly something you looked for. You never really thought about the whole ‘I only go for tall guys’ thing.

Laying the phone down, you sighed deeply. You could tell that he’d been paying attention here and there - probably wondering what you were thinking. Height seemed to be something that he thought of pretty often.

“Something wrong?” You questioned, absentmindedly tracing circles on the fabric of his shirt.

He clicked his tongue, pausing before frustratingly voicing his thoughts. “Am I really that short?”

Ever since you’d first met him, his height was somewhat of a touchy issue; something that he himself would joke about here and there, but you could tell it wasn’t just pay no mind to at all.

“Well,” You replied, careful with how you spoke your next words. “Does it really matter that much to you?”

He fell silent for a moment, your now flat palm feeling the rhythm of his heart beating within his chest, its pace quickening.

“…Does it matter to you?” His voice was small; insecure. You had no idea that was what he was secretly worried about.

And now that he’d finally opened up to you, voicing what he’d been worrying about; you knew what to say.

You shifted your head, glancing upwards at his face; a red blush gently painted his cheeks. Your hand made its way to cup his face, its warmth enveloping your palm

“But,” You paused, a smile tugging at the corner of your lips. “You’re taller than me, right?”.

His hand found yours, lacing his fingers between your own, a small laugh stringing beside his now steadied voice. The same voice that retained the softness that had always been there for as long as you’d known him.

“Right.”

Kuroo is a little cockier than most people you know. Always dropping comments about his training, time efficiency, and most of all, his grades. Though, he isn't the type to actually show off about any of it—in a way, you know that he says things like that because he's comfortable around you. So seeing that he was so comfortable—so confident, you made sure to ask if the two of you could study together for the upcoming Science exam.

He definitely isn't a cookie cutter example of what you'd imagine a nerd would look like, but here he was, sitting in front of you, tapping his pen onto your notebook as he explained the difference between organic and inorganic substances. Whenever he'd ask "Are you listening?" You had to constantly snap back to reality, nodding your head and replying with an "uh-huh". You were listening to him, though specifically to his voice, forgetting the concept he'd explain mere minutes after he'd done so.

Something had to be done about that—you didn't know how he'd react if you completely bombed the Science exam, especially with the hours that he'd spent on you. And so you made sure to actually concentrate. The smile on his face and jump in his voice as he drew diagrams, solved formulas and wrote example questions for you to solve—you imagined the way it'd fade if he figured out none of it was being used.

So you started studying for real. Receiving practice exams from him, you'd take them home to solve later, using the notes you'd taken on his explanations as well as separate printouts he'd given to you. Slowly, you even began to notice a shift in your information retainment. Instead of listening to his soft voice, following his hands as he'd point to specific elements, bringing his pen around the periodic table as he circled atomic numbers and whatnot, you looked beyond that.

You even found yourself looking beyond the content itself—you began to think about him, but this time, more so to do with what he did to get to the place he was now. Joking that he had barely studied yet somehow constantly scoring first place, complaining about the workload, yet finishing homework tasks before even leaving school on the day they were assigned; he'd also mentioned being the captain of your schools volleyball team.

But you weren't going to fall behind this time around. He was so busy, always seeming to have a jam packed schedule, and you who did little to no studying each day wasn't achieving the highest at all. You knew you could definitely make your marks soar—you just needed something cemented. You'd both constantly joke about how he continuously manages to maintain first place, with you ‘beginning to be a threat to his marks’. He'd laugh, running a hand through his already messed up hair as he did so, teasing, "Wow, I'm soo scared."

Though you knew he wasn't expecting to be overthrown. Not this time around, not this quickly either, and definitely not in Science of all things! Smugly placing the paper on his desk, you giggled. His mark was only two points behind yours—absolutely unheard of. However one thing was for sure. He was going to find out how you did it, how you managed to score higher than him even though he knew the content inside and out. And to do this, his plan included hanging around you for an extended period of time—watching the way you do things with a concentrated smile, looking through your notebooks when your weren’t around to see what methods you used for memory recall.

Though over the weeks, you started noticing less that your items were tampered with, a sign of him physically being around you often. The way his eyes would linger on you a little longer after you finished speaking, a pink hue glazing your cheeks as it did his; this was no longer about the exam.

Roommates Part 1

Sakusa Kiyoomi (fluff)

He’d mind his business, and you’d mind yours. You wouldn’t get in each others way, nor would you have any issues. But it seems that the ice may soon be broken.

“Turn that down,”

Your head flicked backwards at the sudden sound of your roommates voice.

“I’m trying to sleep.”

“..I’ll miss it if i don’t watch it live.”

“Ever heard of a recording?”

An awkward pause.

Rude. Someone’s never heard of a live show. The whole point is that you watch it live. It’s like watching a sports match after the results are out - the hype is gone at that point.

Though, you were still recovering from the surprise that he’d just spoken directly to you for the first time in who knew how long. Well, he’d keep to his own and you’d do the same. He did always keep the apartment clean, often doing the washing and tidying up the common space. It was a little weird how routinely he did that, actually.

But no matter how many times he’d cleaned up, you wouldn’t be turning the volume down. Raising the volume would make it too loud for the other tenants, and lowering it would make it too hard to hear.

“Either you wait for it to be over,” You paused, turning back around to grab the bowl of popcorn you had set down onto the coffee table earlier. “..Or you watch it with me.”

After his attempt to reason with you, he ultimately failed to do any convincing, joining you on the couch. You couldn’t help but think that the way he’d sat with a little force felt like he was sulking. Like when a child is told to go to bed - they complain and whine, then they slam themselves down onto their bed with a thud.

Though you’d rather keep your mouth shut than tell him he was acting like a kid. It would be a joke, but you had no idea how he’d take it. Again, this was the longest argument conversation you’d held before, so dropping a comment like that probably wouldn’t help lessen the awkwardness.

Following the light creak of my door, a pair of footsteps stopped in the midst of their tracks. His soothing tone forcefully yanked me out of my trance. It was a voice that I’d heard all too often - but not one I wanted to hear now of all times.

My back was sore, my neck pulsating from being cranked over the dimly lit desk that’d consumed my vision for the past few hours. Papers scattered everywhere, to-do lists stuck up on the walls, each written up in an attempt to keep myself on track, to help visualise my progress; but none of it seemed to be working.

A soft tap fell onto one of my open notebooks. My eyes traced the sound, telling me that a tear had fallen before the heat in my cheeks had been able to.

I kept my face down, not wanting him to see me in this state.

But when had that ever worked?

The door creaked once more, and I had hoped that he’d left.

Instead, there he was, standing behind me with his arms wrapped over my chest, his head nuzzled into the crook of my neck, his quiet voice reminding me that everything would be fine.

Yamaguchi, who was still nervous for the upcoming English exam despite scoring relatively high in all the recent quizzes and projects. Despite that, he insists that he's prepared for it, his notes serving as proof.

You, who sits next to him in class, often working together on joint projects, or sharing materials with each other. He was always smiling, ready to help whenever you asked—as though he was waiting for you to do so.

Yamaguchi, who you asked to study with despite being more than thoroughly prepared yourself. You were just solidifying what you already knew—it definitely had nothing to do with him as a person, right?

Yamaguchi, whose pen strokes were smooth and swift. His notebook was organised, neat and well kept together. Whenever you'd mention it, he'd chuckle, light pink dusting his freckles.

You, who always seemed to become carried away in conversation with him. Leant over your open notebooks and textbooks, you'd fiddle with the cap of your pen as he sat, arms folded over the table—the two of you quietly giggling over a mispronunciation he'd made. Despite being careful not to make too much noise, hushed giggles escaped the pair of you every now and then.

Yamaguchi, who made sure not to pressure you too much, taking care to constantly ask you how you were feeling. He'd bring your favourite sweet to each study session, waiting to see the way your expression shifted into a smile when he handed it to you.

Yamaguchi, who often had to remind himself that he was supposed to be studying, his gaze scurrying away whenever he noticed he'd been starting for too long.

You and Him, who'd quiz each other on different English words, with him making a vocabulary list with probable exam questions to choose from. His accent wasn't too thick, words flowing through efficiently as he spoke. He'd even help you refine your own accent, which was already well formed.

Yamaguchi, who would borrow English novels from the library, using them as study tools for the both of you. He'd use the words within them to construct a few practice questions, making sure to give them to you as well.

You, who'd began to feel slightly more confident in your writing and speaking skills ever since you'd both began studying together.

You, who insisted that his notes were some of the only pieces of material that helped you study efficiently. With their organisation, neatness, and wording, you found yourself understanding concepts that previously puzzled you.

Yamaguchi, who in turn, suggested that having you beside him when studying motivated him to try harder than he already was. He doubled down, claiming that you gave him confidence whenever the two of you were together, and that these study sessions you'd both hold helped him immensely.

Yamaguchi, whose cheeks were painted a deep red hue as he realised he'd gotten carried away.

You and Him, who, at this point, had completely forgotten about anything to do with studying, minds occupied with thoughts of each other.

Akaashi was aware of the approaching exams, having noted them down in his timetable ever since they were announced at the beginning of the term. You, on the other hand were struggling to remain calm about it, ignoring the stress that slowly piled up, until your homeroom teacher reminded the class that they were only 2 weeks away. Akaashi offered to help you after witnessing you buried inside a pile of books in the school library. However, you didn’t even have the slightest clue where to begin, so when he asked what you struggled with the most, you replied with “Everything.” Giving you his number so you could set up study sessions together, you headed home feeling a little less stressed.

Later that day, you received a message from him. In it, was a handwritten timetable, detailing when, and for how long you’d study a specific topic, and what you could do to enhance your understanding when he wasn’t around to help. He’d find pockets of time to help you, whether in between classes, or after his club activities. You were focused on the content that he was delivering, sure, but you somehow couldn’t help your thoughts from drifting off—ever so slightly losing yourself in his voice, wondering why he decided to dedicate so much time for you, especially when he seemed so busy himself.

The night before the exam, instead of suggesting more last minute studying, he asked you to get as much sleep as you could. Concern laced his tone, and given the minimal hours of sleep you’d been getting in the previous days, you took his advice.

It was the last exam of the day. Sat in the classroom, the paper menacingly faced down with your pencil on the right, eraser on the left. You anxiously awaited for the examiner to allow the class to begin writing. Akaashi sat in the front row of the class, his head slumped slightly, arms crossed over the table—he was prepared, but you had a feeling he still let the stress get to him.

As the timer began, you picked up your pencil and began to write, your hands quivering slightly. All the concepts that he’d helped you revise had remained fresh in your mind as you somehow flew through the questions.

Once the examiner collected the papers, your class erupted in chatter—some sobbed while others cheered. Making your way to the front of the class, you found Akaashi seated on his desk, reorganising his writing materials. He asked you how you’d gone, and with a bright smile, you told him that without him you’d have definitely failed. He chucked, averting his gaze, and replying that he didn’t do much at all—that it was your effort that got you there.

The two of you left the school together, with you offering to take him someplace to destress; a cafe, or an arcade of sorts. He’d done so much for you, so this was only something small. And, well, you wouldn’t just abandon him out of nowhere. Not after spending nearly everyday together with him for two whole weeks.