SYNOPSIS throwing a surprise party for shirabu after he specifically told you not to, went better than you’d expected.
everyone knows that shirabu hates birthdays.
he hates being the spotlight of the day, simply because he was born on this same day all those years ago.
it’s just another day, nothing special.
which is precisely why he instructed both you and his team, to not even think about throwing a party or something close adjacent, and especially not a surprise.
but who are you to actually listen to that?
he only turns seventeen one time in his life, why ruin his last birthday as a teenager just because he told you to?
you’re not going to let his birthday go to waste, he’s your boyfriend for heaven’s sake. what kind of girlfriend would you be if you didn’t celebrate your boyfriend’s birthday?
which is exactly why you don’t listen to his instructions, and tell the team to also disobey them.
you’ll probably get an earful of it after, but that’s all worth it.
it’s not going to be super extravagant, just a small surprise.
just you plus his team, without the coaches obviously. you’ll get both your ears filled with reprimands and everything close adjacent.
you have a rough idea of the surprise you’re going to set up, with the help of some of his teammates. ones that aren’t tendō, he’ll definitely snitch on you to shirabu.
it’ll be after practice, someone will get him out of the gym for long enough so everything can get set up, some balloons, confetti poppers for when he walks in, etc.
just a small, tiny surprise for the birthday boy.
and of course you can’t forget a gift.
it needs to be something efficient, something he can use in his daily life.
because there’s no way he’ll accept a useless gift, often calling it a ‘waste of money’, even if it’s your own money you’re spending.
it’s his way of caring, even if the words come out sharp, they come straight from his heart.
his love is very straight forward, although sometimes he may sound a bit blunt.
he doesn’t sugarcoat his words, it’s easier to let the words flow out how the naturally do with him, than to conjure up something that he doesn’t mean.
it’s caused some problems in the start of your relationship, his words harsher than he meant for them to come out.
but you’ve learnt to love the way he is.
he’s truly the one person you can come to for advice with anything— if you had issues with a friend, if your outfit looks weird or not, you name it.
he’ll always flat out tell you his honest opinion.
‘you shouldn’t talk to her anymore, it’s making you miserable, i can tell.’ ‘red doesn’t match your eyes, try the dark blue one.’
it’s been a huge learning process for him, not immediately replying with a snarky tone and a scoff, but being a little softer with his words, in his own way.
the last thing he’d want is to hurt your feelings with his words or actions.
you’re so precious to him. kind, patient, caring.
you keep him upright when he feels like falling, you’re his anchor when he feels like drowning.
sometimes he feels pitiful for you, ending up with a boyfriend who could definitely work on his social cues and bluntness.
but he’s so grateful to call you his, you’re the only gift he’ll ever need.
that thought crossed your mind for a second, no materialistic gift. just you in all your glory.
he probably won’t care for a gift anyways, but you still want to give him something nonetheless.
so you settle for something handmade, it’ll barely cost you any money, saving you another gentle scolding from him.
you want it to be something very special, something that he’ll be able to keep for a long, long time.
sure, it may not be useful like you thought earlier, but this is way better.
a small handmade photobook, with all of the photos you have together.
you don’t have many photographs together, since he despises taking them, but you’ve forced a few out of him.
one of him asleep, his cheek resting on your thigh, his bangs all messy and damp from a shower.
one of you two together, right after a match that was a terrifying close one, but they still one of course. him leaning his head on your shoulder, his arms wrapped loosely around you. a picture he doesn’t know of, since it was snapped without him noticing.
and then there’s your favorite picture of him, the one he’d hate the most out of the bunch.
it’s of him, bangs clipped away from his forehead, half his body laying on top of you, one of his adms stretched around you, with his head laying on your chest— and a bunch of drool on and around his lips, and on your chest.
it was after the most grueling match of his life, rallies that seemed to never end, but in the end they still won, obviously. but it took a big toll on his body.
and that’s how he ended up there, like that. too tired to even argue about the clips in his hair.
these are only a few pictures you can name on the top of your head, but there’s going to be a bunch more in the photobook. maybe even more embarrassing ones.
you’ll write a heartfelt note on every page, decorate it with hearts and tiny drawings, and it’ll be adorable when it’s finished.
it won’t be exactly perfect, some glue residue on the paper, a spelling mistake you had to cross out, but that only gives it more feel, it’ll be one of a kind.
he’ll like it, sure he will. it’s not like it’s a bad gift, nor a waste of your money.
now, the gift is out of the way. just the ‘surprise’ left, which won’t be too hard.
practice has ended a few minutes ago, the coaches have left, and everyone’s staying behind to ‘clean’ the gymnasium.
you’ve convinced coach saitō to take shirabu with him for a few minutes, telling him about the small surprise you’d planned, and surprisingly he agreed. and promised to not tell coach washijō.
shirabu left with coach saitō, brow cocked in confusion as to why he’s the only one that the coach needs to see, but he pays little mind to it.
and now you’ve got around five minutes to set everything up.
the balloons, a few tables from the storage for the cake and other gifts, ones from his teammates. yours is hidden a little further away.
the lights have been turned off, and the room is filled with whispers that quickly get shushed.
you’re practically beaming to see his reaction, but also a teensy bit nervous.
you hope no one snitched about the surprise, your mind flowing to a specific red haired blocker, but he swore he didn’t.
and there’s no room to argue, since there’s around thirty seconds left until he supposedly comes back.
it’s so quiet in the gymnasium you can hear your own breathing, and now two pairs of footsteps coming towards the gymnasium’s doors.
the doors open, the lights get turned on, and the sound of confetti poppers echo in the space.
‘happy birthday!’ everyone yells in sync, many different versions of his name getting called out.
shirabu-san by goshiki, shirabu by the most of them, kenji-chan by tendō, which would’ve normally caused a scowl on shirabu’s face, and by yours truly, my love. and you were the loudest of them all.
shirabu stands there, expression something between shock and annoyance.
‘i— what is this.’ he says blankly, although his voice cracked slightly at the end.
‘surprise!’ you beam, walking over to him with a small pep in your step.
‘but i told you—’ you already know the words that are going to come out of his mouth, so you shut him up with a big fat cheeks, holding his face in your hands.
his hands instinctively fly to your waist, having forgotten all his teammates were there for a second.
he’s never, ever. shown that much affection to you in public before, and he didn’t even think about what he was doing.
as expected, the room erupted in whistles and coos, along with a bunch of snickering.
shirabu pulls away from your face with the speed of light, his cheeks hot with embarrassment. ‘shut up!’ he yells at his teammates, most of them trying to stifle their laughter so they won’t need to face his wrath, save for goshiki and ushijima. who are just confused as hell.
eventually they shut up, much to shirabu’s relief. and you start pulling at his arm to take him to the table, filled with gifts and cake.
‘what’s all this.’ he asks, voice low, not really sounding like a question, but more so talking to himself.
‘it’s all for you, i really wanted to surprise you on your birthday. i know you didn’t want me to—’ ‘it’s okay, thanks.’ woah there. did he just say that it was okay? because the week prior, it seemed he really wasn’t okay with any celebrations of the sort.
‘really? you’re not mad?’ you blink, everyone else also looking exceptionally stunned, mouths agape and eyes wide.
‘no,’ he mutters, making everyone exchange a weird look between eachother.
‘stop being so weird about it.’ he tells his teammates, giving them a nasty glare. ‘ooohh, is our kenjirō-kun blushing?’ tendō teases, getting awfully close to kenjirō.
he doesn’t reply, which is quite the odd behavior coming from shirabu, normally he would’ve retorted with the sharpest words on the tip of his tongue.
you clap your hands together, loud enough to make everyone look at you. ‘lets cut the cake, shall we?’
the cake gets sliced into enough pieces for everyone, and everyone digs in. some messy with their hands, and some eating it properly with a fork.
shirabu finds himself being fed by you, or well an attempt to.
‘here comes the airplane!’ you coo, inching the fork with a piece of the cake closer to his mouth.
he stops your hand right before the cake meets his lips, ‘i can feed myself, i’m not a baby.’ no matter how much you try to escape his grip, you can’t. he refuses to budge
so, you decide to give him the biggest puppy eyes ever, ones that you know he can’t resist. ‘please?’ your lips curl into the smallest pout, knowing exactly what you’re doing to him.
he scoffs, but opens his mouth anyway. while also releasing the grip he has on your arm.
he takes the bite, savoring all the sweetness on his tongue. ‘taste good?’ you ask, already fetching another bite for him to eat. ‘mhm, very sweet.’
and you continue feeding him without anymore complaints, sure you’re getting many weird looks, but shirabu doesn’t have the heart to say anything when you look so happy.
you look really pretty, a little different than normal.
your hair looks different, it looks shinier than usual, and your complexion looks a little brighter, did you wear the new highlighter that you bought? the one you raved about to him for weeks, yep. that’s definitely it.
‘you’re staring,’ you point an accusing finger at him, his body jolting slightly since he got caught.
‘you look pretty.’ he blurts out, not rethinking his words before they fell off his tongue.
gosh, what’s in the air today? shirabu’s been surprisingly nice, and straightforward today. not denying anything.
‘really? don’t i always look pretty.’ you tease, hooking a finger under his chin to make him look up at you, hazel eyes boring into yours.
he doesn’t say anything, but his silence says enough.
‘now, i have something for you.’ you tell him, removing the finger under his chin and walking towards your bag. ‘close your eyes!’ you yell at him, gesturing him to cover his eyes with his hands.
and he does as instructed, unlike a certain somone, who doesn’t do as instructed.
you grab the handcrafted photobook out of your bookbag, and smile at the cover image.
it’s the most decent picture you could’ve found of you two,, since most of the pictures are either stupid, or so blurry you can barely make out what you’re supposed to see.
you walk back to shirabu, and hand him the gift. placing it in his free hand.
‘you can open your eyes now.’ you let out a nervous giggle, impatiently waiting for him to open his eyes.
he opens his eyes, and stares down at the gift in his hands..
the title is written in bold letters, in pink glitter pen. ‘happy birthday kenjirō ♡’
the rest of the cover is decorated with tiny drawings, hearts, volleyballs, mini chibi’s of him and you. and of course the cover image.
he isn’t saying anything, which is making you unreasonably nervous.
he’s staring at the small book in his hands like it owes him money, lithe fingers grazing every small detail.
‘..do you like it?’ you ask after you still haven’t gotten a response from him for a whole two minutes.
‘mhm, thank you.’ he grabs your hand and gives it a soft squeeze, his lips curled into the tiniest smile ever, but still a smile nonetheless.
you let out the most relieved sigh of your life, your shoulders finally being able to relax.
and a little later, after the party had ended, he flipped through the photobook with the most lovesick smile on his face.
a/n: happy birthday to my favorite lopsided bowl cut guy 🫶🏻 this took me so fucking long i can’t even comprehend how glad i am to be done
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