Archive 3/18/22

The annoying guy who had been hitting on you glares at both of you now, almost as if he's trying to detect your bullshit, but quickly replaces the expression with a slimy smile.

"Enjoy your night! Keep an eye on her - I almost snatched her up."

You shiver and hold back a gag when he walks away. A deep breath huffs from your nose as you thank your friend for the service.

"Are you okay? How long was he bothering you? You should at least tell one of us if you're going to go off on your own," Makki lectures with a serious look on his face and releases his hold on you. Something in you wishes he would've held on just a little longer.

"I'm okay. He was just being way too forward," you tell him and straighten yourself back up.

"What a douche. You good to go back in?" He asks, face relaxing after hearing that you're okay.

You nod.

"Cool. Oikawa said he's gonna buy us all shots. Stick close to me, okay? Let me know if you see that guy lurking around. I'm not afraid to have a word with him."

You smile and follow him closely as you make your way back into the bar. He always makes you feel safe.

-

It's another night at the downtown bar strip. An indie band played a street concert and you're riding high from being so close to the stage and singing and jumping along with your friends. Your cheeks are warm from a few beers and the exciting atmosphere the band had created.

"Shit."

The crowd thins when the show ends, and suddenly Makki is by your side gripping your hand. You look up at him, heart skipping around at feeling his hand in yours.

"Makki, what are you-?"

"Stay by me," he says as he squeezes your hand tighter, though his attention is focused on something in the near distance. You look as well, and you soon realize what has him so tense.

It's his ex.

Things had ended on a weird note with them, and Makki had been a bit hung-up on it, though you low-key always thought that he could do better. You see the hint of forlorn feelings in his face, and you realize that it's your turn to rescue him. You feel a little perturbed for being used more as a jealousy tactic, but it doesn't stop you from squeezing his hand back. You're quick to draw his focus away, swooping infront of him and reaching out to touch his face with your other hand.

"Hiro, look at me."

You don't know if his ex is looking. You don't really care. He shifts his eyes to yours, something flickering behind them when you say his name.

"You're here with me and our friends tonight, and we're gonna have fun," you say with a grin.

It takes him a moment to respond. You can almost see his brain working something out, though you're not quite sure what that is. He blinks at you a few times before he matches your smile.

"Okay, you're right," he gives in, letting his shoulders relax.

Your heart swells with joy when he doesn't even spare another glace away from your face. Your smile grows and you tug at his hand to get him to follow you to the bar you agreed to meet everyone else at.

"You can hold my hand as long as you want. I'll be your cock block tonight," you tease, though really, you wouldn't mind if he held on all night. You owe him at least one night of fake partnership.

He immediately lets go of your hand, a pink tinge seeping into his freckled cheeks.

"Thanks. I think I'll be okay. I won't kill your game," he says and pushes you forward between the shoulder blades playfully.

You make a snarky comment back that you could still pull your fair share even with him hanging all over you. A little voice in the back of your mind wants you to try - a whole night of pretending to be together rather than just a moment, like a trial just to see how it fits.

-

"Why don't you just date her for real?" Iwaizumi asks in earnest. He's not stupid, and can see just as clearly as everyone else that you and Makki something going on, even if it is momentary and pretend.

"Nah man, she's my friend. She's friends with all of us. You'd do the same for her, and she'd do the same for you," Makki reasons, seemingly more preoccupied with rolling the next blunt for the circle.

"But it's always the two of you," Mattsun says without hesitation, quirking a thick brow at his friend.

"Just friends, I'm telling you. She doesn't care. You're the ones reading into this way more than either of us are."

And to prove it to them, he tells you of the conversation when you join them later.

"Stupid, right?" Makki laughs as you draw in your second puff.

It doesn't hurt, but something seems off. You're not surprised that the conversation happened, though you pretend to choke on your hit as if you've been caught off guard. You shoot glares over to the other boys, who dart their eyes away sheepishly.

"For real dudes? I thought it was pretty clear that Makki and I are friends," you say innocently, more so to convince yourself than the others. You two are friends. Friendly friends. The friendliest of friends.

They seem to buy it as well as you pass on the blunt of your pregame ritual. It's obviously something neither of you want to address. Soon enough you're all laughing at Oikawa as he ungracefully spits out some Scooby snacks and the topic is long forgotten.

When nothing but the roach is left, you fix your lipstick in your pocket mirror and make sure your eyes aren't too red. The plan is to hit the bars again tonight, and you tell yourself that there's always the sad, off chance that you'll meet the love of your life in a grungy, sticky room of alcohol and hormones.

"Does my face look okay?" You turn and ask Makki for reassurance.

"Hmm? Yeah, looks fine I guess."

Good enough. You can tell he's already more than a little foggy by the way he barely raises his short brows. In a matter of minutes, you're out the door and crammed into the back middle seat of Mattsun's car between Oikawa and Makki. Both of their legs are pressed up against yours, but for some reason, you're only aware of Makki's hand resting on his knee and that the tip of his pinky is touching your thigh that doesn't move for the whole ride.

Despite Mattsun being more than a blunt and a shotgunned beer in, and with Iwa's questionable workout dubstep playlist shaking every car he pulled up next to, he gets you all downtown safely. You decide to go to the bar with a built-in pizza window for when the inevitable munchies hit you all, but for now, the guys use your feminine status as a means to work your way into a spot at the bar.

You hop up on a barstool and patiently wait while the guys get their orders in. It's a Friday night, so it's quite packed with a mix of college students and townies. You scan the crowd, looking to see if there's anyone who could catch your eye. There is. And your entire body goes cold when you make eye contact.

"Makki," you tug on his sleeve to get his attention, but he's too focused on paying his tab.

It's the guy who was bothering you a few weeks ago. He spotted you from across the crowd and didn't seem to catch the hint of you immediately looking away. Your eyes dart back over and you see him pushing his way through the people to get to you.

"Makki, hey," you whine, panic taking hold in your chest, but the loud music of the bar drowns out your plea.

The man is locked on you. He's either ignorant to the fear and repulsion in your expression, or he likes it. You feel sick and nervous, not wanting to give him the pleasure of any kind of exchange with you. He's getting closer and closer, until Makki finally turns to you, holding two drinks in his hand and handing one to you.

"Here, I got you-"

You ignore the glass being offered to you, reaching up to grab the back of his neck, fingers brushing against the short pink hairs and pull his face down to meet your lips. You close your eyes and hold the kiss, even daring to gently move your lips against his for the sake of it looking convincing to those watching. You can tell you caught him by surprise, but you swear you can feel him start to kiss you back just as you pop open one eye to check your surroundings.

"Oh thank God, he left," you say with a relieved sigh when you pull back.

Makki looks at you, mouth just a little bit agape and face unreadable as you trace your thumb around the outline of your lips.

"Sorry about that," you chirp in nonchalance. Surely he understands why you did it.

"Does my lipstick look okay?" You ask, leaning in closer so he can get a better look. His eyes fall down to your mouth, though he seems stiff and a little frozen.

"Y-Yeah. You look- Your lips... your lips look..." he rambles as he fights a goofy smile that's twitching at the corner of his mouth. You laugh a little at the effect it had on him, but he said it himself: you're friends.

"Oh? Is this for me? Thanks!" You beam as you take one of the drinks in his hand and stir it up before taking a sip.

You think nothing of the kiss, but when you peer up at him over the rim of your glass, you can't help but to feel a little bad when you notice that he's still staring at you.

"Are you okay?" You ask.

He lets out a small chuckle and shakes his head to bring himself back from wherever his mind wandered off to.

"Yeah," he responds. "I'm fine."

Nothing else out of the ordinary happens that night. You end up getting so drunk that you don't even remember the quick little kiss. But Makki remembers. It's the moment he realized he doesn't want to pretend anymore.

"Did you happen to get this one punching him in the face on camera?" Your friend's boyfriend asks as he gestures towards you, earning him a jab to the ribs.

"Oh please, they're old news on Tokkipon," the waitress says before leaving the table. You cringe at the mention of the infamous account that posts submitted photo and video highlights of your prefecture's notorious trashy behavior. You hope she's right. It was less than 5 hours ago when you were hauled away in the back of a cop car, throwing over-exaggerated looks of disgust at Reigen who was making stupid taunting faces at you through the window of the separate patrol car he was in.

"Already at 300-thousand views!" The tall guy across from you exclaims with his phone in hand. Your friend sheepishly peeks the screen, though she at least tries to act disinterested for your sake.

"Hmmm," Reigen muses and you roll your eyes, knowing exactly how the gears of his mind work. "I could use this exposure to boost my brand."

You slap your hands on the table and groan.

"I have to pee. Move."

Though you don't give him the chance, climbing over him and purposely stomping on his leg as you exit the booth. You don't actually need the bathroom, just need to get away from him. Your friend quickly excuses herself to follow you - the law of women forbidding her from allowing you to travel to the bathroom alone. That, and she's eager to hear what went down. The only thing you had said when you called was, "I'm in jail. There's several wads of cash in my underwear drawer at home if you need it. Plan to bail for two."

"Are you okay?" She asks as soon as the swinging door closes behind you. You do a quick scan to make sure no one else is in the stalls before you rant.

"Well, I have assault and battery on my record now. I'm dogshit tired. I met some of the saddest, roughest women I've ever encountered in my life in the holding cell. And I don't think Reigen and I can recover from this. But, yeah. I think I'm more okay than most people would be," you say, honestly too exhausted to really feel much of anything except acceptance.

"He didn't fight you back? Did he?"

"Nah, there was a cop in the parking lot who saw the whole thing and came running over."

"Then why did Reigen get arrested too?"

"Well the cops were just gonna take me, but he kept saying things to piss me off. He was so irritating and persistent that they decided to take him in as well for interfering with their duties because he kept interrupting," you explain as you make your way over to one of the sinks. You catch your reflection, looking quite disheveled and you make your best attempt to smooth down your hair.

"What even got you two in it in the first place?"

You stay silent with your lips pressed into a tight line.

"Don't tell me-"

"It's the fucking broccoli!" You lament, voice bouncing off the tiled bathroom. At first you thought it was funny, like an inside joke between you and Reigen that he had anything to do with skyscraper vegetable incident. But between that, and the mysterious Mob that always seems to leave right before you come around, as well as some other fishy circumstances that he blames on spirits, you wonder if the jokes are just him playing you for a fool.

"How dumb does he think I am? I get that his job is all about bullshitting, but to think he can try and bullshit me too? Fuck him and all his stupid psychic bullshit and his stupid little imaginary friends. It's all made up! Everything! It just makes me think, what else could he be making up as well? Is he insane, or just an asshole? Or both? And yet he makes me feel like I'm insane and an asshole! Why do I even like him?"

"I mean, do you have any other explanation for the giant broccoli other than a psychic phenomenon?" Your friend tries to reason. Bless her heart.

"It's obviously a government experiment in trying to solve world hunger," you huff, feeling quite confident in your conclusion. You had scoured enough tinfoil forums to be convinced of the theory.

"It's a giant broccoli in the middle of our city! You can't come at it with logic like that! Just like you can't logic your way around being in love with him."

"You take that back!" You gasp, horrified despite the truth to all her points. "I only love you, not that weasel out there."

"Who? My weasel or yours?" She jokes, and you manage a chuckle at the burn to her own lover.

"You two are cute. Wish Reigen and I could be- could've been more like that," you sigh. In another life where you had a better temper and he knew how to be serious for one second, then maybe.

"Aw, don't talk like that! I'm sure you'll be okay after some mediocre pancakes and bacon," she assures you.

"Nothing like a Grand Slam to cover up my abuser status." It's only a half-joke that does little ease the weighty feeling in your chest. If Reigen had been the one who punched you, you certainly would not be sharing coffee and breakfast with him.

"Quit it! You're not a monster! His teeth aren't even loose!"

You accept it for now, too tired to make any argument against her. Your rough reflection seems to stare back at you with condescending pity, and you accept that too with another sigh. You exit the bathroom with your friend in tow, feeling a little weird and anxious about going back to the table and having to sit next to the man who you'll probably be seeing for the last time. However, something else makes you stop in your tracks when you catch sight of your table.

"What's wrong?" You friend asks as she peeks around your shoulder.

"They're," you feel your skin go cold, "getting along."

Your friend laughs and keeps walking, seemingly delighted at the sight of the two men excitedly showing each other their phone screens. You, on the other hand, can't find the joy in the budding friendship between her boyfriend and your....boyfriend, for now. Despite the headache forming behind your eyeballs, you make your way over. Reigen gets up to let you back in to your side of the booth. You can feel his eyes on you as you cast your sight down and to the side, ignoring the tightness in your chest at knowing his stare doesn't hold the harshness you deserve.

Thankfully, the food arrives as soon as you settle back in, distracting you and everyone else with it's bare minimum quality. You imagine it beats whatever they're serving in jail though, and you graciously eat up the overcooked eggs paired with undercooked hash browns. Though mid-chew, you see Reigen's hand come creeping over from the side and onto your plate to pilfer a piece of your bacon. Quickly, you snatch his wrist in your hand and whip your neck to glare at him.

"I swear, if you know what's good for-" You cut yourself off, finding yourself nearly snarling at him and everyone at the table staring at you in anticipation. It's the first time you're able to look him in the eye since you got out. He's looking at you with the same old beady black eyes, amused at your reaction. Something about it makes your face go hot and your heart feel like it's going to tear in two. Not wanting to cause another scene, you huff out your nose in defeat.

"Whatever, take it. They slice it too thin anyway," you grumble and let him go. This is probably the last time you'll be sitting with him like this, the least you can do is let him have some shitty break-up bacon. You can sense his eyes still on you when you go back to your eggs that had gone cold all too quick. He grunts and eats the bacon, though with less enthusiasm than he usually has for food.

The rest of the meal is fairly quiet save for your friend's boyfriend trying to break the mood by messing with her food and making awful puns. They really are cute, you think. As much as you try to suppress it, it makes you envious. You wonder if there was ever a time when you so carefree and relaxed in your feelings for Reigen. It hurts your head too much to think about.

You pay the bill as a small gesture of thanks to the other couple, though you insist you owe them quite a few more treats to some place a little more upscale. Perhaps a giftcard to a steakhouse since this is the first and last double date you'll be on for a while.

The back middle seat keeps you separated from Reigen during the ride to drop you off. You thought he'd feel meters and meters away, but he feels exactly 18 inches from your side, awkwardly distanced yet not far enough. The drive is mostly wordless, everyone in the vehicle quite tired from the wedge in their regular schedules, though Reigen gives directions to drop him off at his office. It's mere minutes away, just a few turns and one red light, and all too soon the car is stopped outside the familiar building.

He gets out, and you hesitate, unsure if you should get out too.

"What are you doing? Go!" The two in the front both encourage you as they squish together to look at you through the rearview mirror.

"I-" You stop whatever excuse you had and sigh as you unbuckle. "Fine. Going."

Before you close car door behind you, you poke your head back in and look at your friend. "If you ever get arrested for punching him," you gesture at the man in the passenger seat, "I won't bail you out because I'll also be in jail for punching him."

"Love you too," she says as her boyfriend gives you a wary smile. "Now go! I want to go back to sleep!"

Your heart thumps when you close the door for good and watch as they drive off. Reigen waits for you at the door to his office, leaning against the wall and lighting up a cigarette between his lips.

"I thought you were quitting," you say, finding the words easier than you thought you would.

"I think I deserve one," he retorts after exhaling the first drag. You hate it, mostly because you hate how good he looks doing it.

You sigh for the hundredth time this morning, closing your eyes and wringing your hands a bit as you prepare to say what you need to.

"I'm sorry."

"I forgive you."

His response is so fast that it feels anticlimactic. You had been dreading a painful, drawn out silence, but instead he just gives his forgiveness like it's nothing. But it's not nothing. Your heart squeezes, and finally the wear and exhaustion of this whole fiasco comes crashing down on you.

"I- I don't want to break up," you choke out in a wobbly voice, with big fat stinging tears welling up in your eyes that don't even need you to blink to spill over.

He drops the cigarette and pushes himself off the wall, rushing to grab you by the shoulders.

"Who said anything about breaking up?!" He asks, sounding a little frantic.

Your shoulders shake as you fight to hold back the sobs, eyes and teeth clenched in a futile attempt to keep you from completely coming apart.

"I hurt you! I-It's not right. I don't- I don't deserve you. You don't d-deserve that," you snivel, barely registering his hands on you. You can't bear to look at him, and hang your head low so the tears can hopefully fall on the ground instead of down your cheeks.

"We can talk about it at least. Besides, you have a ways to go before you can throw an effective Anti-Esper Punch™," he says, and you can't tell if he's teasing or being serious.

"Did you just say the tradem- Nevermind. This doesn't make sense. Nothing is making sense," you lament, taking a step forward and knocking your forehead on his shoulder. "I just wanna go to sleep and pretend nothing happened. But we can't do that. And I don't think I can trust you to be serious with me, and I can't trust myself not to be frustrated with you."

You don't expect him to move his arms around you and pull you into him. You're not the type of couple for such affection, especially here on the open sidewalk where people can see that there's obviously some kind of scene going on. But you're exhausted and you slump against him, squeezing your arms around his middle right back and let your tears soak his white button down that's far more wrinkly than usual. Part of you fears that this will be your last time holding him so close.

However, he speaks and brings you to a place that feels like home.

"I am serious with you. Why else would I get myself arrested?"

You finally look up at him, whipping your chin upwards so you can get a good scan of his face. Despite your eyes swelling, they open wide when you see nothing but earnest in his expression.

"Y-You mean-? On purpose?!" You stutter.

"Well, yeah. Getting arrested sucks. I wasn't gonna make you go through that by yourself," he says simply.

Your heart squeezes. More tears fall from your eyes as you wrap yourself all too tightly around him, crying into his neck, "Stupid! Idiot! I- I can't stand you! Absolute scum of the earth! Why would you- For stupid dumbass me!? You're so-!"

"You're welcome." You feel him laugh at you, one hand brushing at your back affectionately.

At this point, you don't even know if you can say what you really mean without drawing concern. Your throat constricts, but you still manage to croak out a strained, "Thank you."

His other hand comes to rest atop your head, smoothing over your hair. Maybe one day you'll be able to be more open with your feelings, but for now, you say what you can by refusing to let go of him.

"Let's go inside. I'll keep business closed today. Though, if there is a spiritual emergency, I might have to address it," he tells you and pats you on the head.

Slowly, you loosen your hold on him and sigh through your stuffy nose the best you can.

"Still on about spirits even after-?"

You shift your head from his neck, pulling back and opening your eyes. You're so worn that you must be half asleep already. Or maybe you're starting to hallucinate from the lack of sleep. You give your eyes a testing squeeze before popping them back open and blinking a few times to clarify your visions, but-

"Reigen," you say slowly, "there's some ugly green thing hanging around by your head."

"Oh, so now you can actually see me and you call me ugly?!"

Yeah, you're definitely losing it. Or you owe Reigen another apology.

But you know you should not concern yourself with agonizing and irritating thoughts of Thoma's perfection. You know the real reason you've been cultivating familiarity with the Kamisato clan is for none other than the man himself, Kamisato Ayato. You've only been introduced and had quick greetings before he'd retreat to take care of his duties with the Yashiro Commission. He's handsome as well, sharing the same genteel beauty as his sister. You wonder if the suggestion he marry someone from such a clan as yours would even be suitable. He's supposedly a fearsome fighter and strategist, and perhaps would be better suited for the Kujou clan's military general daughter.

At the very least, you like to think that your friendship with Ayaka is meaningful enough to give your clan a stronger voice when you eventually take over one day. Back when you were kids, you were only allowed to converse through a screen divider, making your visits a little awkward. However, with the years, she was finally able to meet you face to face, and though shy and reserved at first, you've noticed in the last year or so that she's become more relaxed and excitable.

"Excuse me if this is uncouth. I couldn't possibly talk to Thoma about this, but I-" the icy-haired girl fumbles around uncharacteristically with her words one day over tea at the estate. "I was wondering you had any experience with, um, love."

The inquiry throws you off and makes your brain go wild with the thought of why she would be asking, and ultimately who she could be seeking advice on. Thoma is the only one who comes mind, seeing that they spend a considerable amount of time together and he dotes on her with the same kindness he shows to everybody - if you were her age, you'd also be charmed. You take a deep breath, mentally composing a respectable response.

"I'm afraid I don't know much when it comes to romance, other than the stories," you admit as you nervously take a sip of tea. You do know a little more than you're willing to let on, but you're not sure what would be appropriate to share. Certainly you've found people attractive, but never enough to distract yourself from your duties as the future head of your clan. However, Ayaka is a few years younger than you, any normal teenager would begin to think of such things in a serious manner. "If may be so bold as to ask, why?"

Her cheeks turn an endearing shade of pink as she lets her gaze fall to her hands in her lap.

"I made a friend recently. Perhaps you have heard of the traveler who helped to end the vision hunt decree," Ayaka answers shyly.

Your mouth hangs open just a bit before turning into a smile at the revelation. The esteemed Ayaka-dono falling for a foreign traveler? This is very exciting news.

"And you're in love with him?" You exclaim, although not too loudly, knowing that Thoma and some others are right outside the room.

"No! I mean, he and I are friends. He helped me learn more about my mother, and we also went to the festival together, and after-" She cuts herself off.

"And after?" You prod. This is the most she's ever opened up to you, and the topic is quite stimulating.

"We, um, shared an intimate moment."

You go silent, eyelids pulled back high in shock. You find it hard to even blink, but you manage to at least clear your throat and not drop your tea cup.

"By intimate, you mean like, kissing?" You ask, hoping for nothing worse of an answer.

"Eh?! No, no! K-Kiss? I meant- Not kissing! Th-That's- We- I just-" She stammers in embarrassment and covers her face with a fan.

The conversation must have gotten a little loud, because the door slides open to reveal Thoma looking in. You meet his stare. For a split second, you notice that it lacks the usual lightness, but quickly a bright smile takes over when he asks, "Can I get you two anything?"

"We're fine Thoma," Ayaka tells him as she lowers her fan, quickly putting on her usual demeanor with impressive turnaround.

"Well if that's the case, my lady," he says turning towards you. "Your room is prepared for your stay. Might you accompany me to help you settle in?"

It's not unusual for him to ask, being too considerate to move a lady's things without her being present. Ayaka nods toward you as if to say she'll find you later to continue your discussion. Before you can even shift to stand up, Thoma is by your side offering his hand. Again, nothing unusual, but there's something in the back of your mind that tells you to be more on guard. You take his hand though, and rise to your feet, bowing towards Ayaka who gives you a small smile.

Thoma offers his arm to you as you walk through the expansive estate. He's talkative as per normal, pointing out the new artwork from Liyue now that trade restrictions are starting to lift, and chatting about how they're expecting more foreign visitors in Ritou. It's hard not to marvel at the well kept grounds at his doing, and you wonder if there truly is a future for you live in such a perfect place.

You feel comfortable at his side, walking arm in arm like this, even if there is something keeping you a little on edge. The split second look he gave you when he interrupted your conversation with Ayaka makes your throat feel strange when you think about it. But he seems relaxed and carefree as he recounts a his most recent run in with a tanuki, and you find yourself more at ease and giggle at his story.

"Here we are! Same room as usual, though we finally got enough silk in to have new sheets and pillowcases made," he says as he opens the door for you. There is a sense a familiarity, coming to stay here a few times a year since your early teens. Though but a guest room, it's nearly as big as some of the homes in your village. It's conflicting, feeling so appreciative and admiring of the work done to accommodate you, yet also knowing that there are people you know with so little. Still, you can't help but to run your fingers over the fine silk and imagine sinking into the softness come nighttime.

You thank him for making such arrangements for your stay, but insist that the previous Sumerian cotton was more fine than anything you're used to.

"One good night's rest under these sheets and you'll never want to sleep in anything else," he insists.

"Then I cannot allow myself to get used to it," you say cheekily, and seat yourself on the soft mattress, smoothing the high quality materials of the duvet.

"You will have to if you are to marry Lord Ayato."

The words cut the lightness in the air, and suddenly that strange feeling is back from how he looked at you earlier.

"I am not inclined to be expectant of such an offer," you say, turning your head away. Part of it is true, though you know that it's also the whole reason for your visits.

"Who's to say you shouldn't be? You have Lady Ayaka's favor," he tells you in earnest, though his tone changes when he continues, "And you have mine as well."

You go warm at his words, though he means it not as flattery, but as fact. It's no secret that despite being a housekeeper, he is Lord Ayato's closest friend. Thoma's good word has just as much power as Ayaka's in this regard.

"I've done nothing but let my family impose my presence to earn such favor," you state, still refusing to look his way.

You can hear the rustle of his clothes as he takes a step towards you. Your eyes slowly trail over to him, though you can't bear to look at his face.

"We host dozens of others with the same intentions, though none quite like you. You don't seek luxury, in fact, I don't think you like it all that much. But you have a strong connection and sense of duty to your people," he says and your eyes shoot up to meet his.

You've never felt so seen than under the softness in his green eyes. Something heavy sits in your throat, rendering you unable to respond to his analysis.

"Lady Ayaka senses this as well. I don't think she would have opened up to you in such a way if she didn't."

"You were-" You go to call him out for eavesdropping, but he stops you.

"I'm glad she has another friend in you. Just," he sighs, "Just be easy with her if she brings up the traveler again."

You harden your stare at him now. Now you understand the look he had given you when he intruded. You know the reason behind the concern, but-

"Just because she's an ojou-sama doesn't mean she isn't allowed to have a crush," you state plainly. You're not nearly as high of status, but you understand the position she's in, what's expected of her, and how it's humanly impossible to fight the way she must truly feel.

"I didn't mean-" He starts to defend himself, but you quickly stand up and take a step towards him, making him back up.

"Can't a girl fantasize? We already have to sacrifice our desires, our spirits, our freedom just for being born into our positions. Is it so much to be a little selfish and think about love for ourselves?" You lament as you keep moving towards him until he's backed into the wall. He meets your hard gaze, his eyes quickly taking in your expression. He seems taken aback, yet there's an understanding as he reads you.

"But you wouldn't know anything about being selfish: Thoma the kind. Thoma the chivalrous. Thoma the magnanimous," you say almost tauntingly as you relent your stance and move back to allow him the air. Of course someone like him wouldn't be able to relate-

"You're wrong."

Your heart stops at the staunchness in his voice. In all your years, you've never heard him speak with such roughness. He takes a long stride away from the wall and back into your space, the usual softness in his face replaced with something darker. There's still a hint of his usual playfulness, but something about his demeanor sends a chill up your spine.

"I'm envious. I could be selfish, too," he tells you without breaking his eyes from yours. He doesn't stop his movement towards you. You step back. He steps forward again. Again, and again until the back of your knees hit the bed. He doesn't stop, looming closer to your face until you're forced to sit, and still, he does not stop.

"I want to be selfish," he declares in a low voice.

He finally halts just an inch away from his nose touching yours. Your breath moves fast and heavy through your chest, speeding up the accumulation of heat taking over your body. Though just as you start to lean up towards him, he pulls away.

"Sorry, I-"

"Show me," you say in a small voice, almost like a plea as you pinch his jacket to keep him getting further.

"I shouldn't. You're- I'm-" He hesitates, still the dutiful Thoma after all.

You give a light tug, beckoning him closer. His sight drops to your lips, and finds himself locked into your gravity.

"Be selfish," you permit, the words ghosting his parted lips.

And he submits. Claiming your lips for himself, he slots into you, taking in a moment to connect with you in such a way. His knee slides up onto the bed and next to your hip as he grabs the sides of your face, pulling you and pushing himself closer and closer until you have to wrap your arms around him to stay upright - A futile effort, as he leans into you more, dipping his tongue into your mouth and brushing the tip against yours. You fall back on the bed, bringing him flush against you as you continue your heated kiss, enjoying this feeling being trapped between him and the mattress.

He moans into your mouth, making you whimper as your hips squirm beneath his weight. You've never felt anything quite like this. The books you've read have always described kissing as something sweet and sacred, but this- this feels much more frantic, like you need so much more. Thoma's thumbs brush against your cheeks as he moans into you again before pulling back.

"We should-"

But you don't let him speak, pulling him by the jacket back to your lips and greedily chasing his tongue with yours. Your knees wiggle out from under him, drawing your legs out to hook around his thighs and squeeze his lower half closer to you.

"Mmmph!" He groans and forces himself to stop kissing you, much to your annoyance. He struggles against your pleas for more, breath fast and heavy as he stares at you closely.

"We can't. I can't," he says, though you know that's not what he wants.

"I told you: show me. Show me more," you demand, moving your hands to tangle in his golden hair and loosening the tie that holds it back. Your fingertips graze through his roots, making his eyes flutter shut at the sensation.

He drops his head to the side of yours, breath rousing the sensitive skin of your neck and heating up your ear. You feel his lips brush against the lobe, and you squeeze your legs just a little tighter around him.

"I won't be able to stop," he says right into your ear, the waves of his voice sending a tremor all the way down to your core. You gasp, arching your chest to him as you grip into his hair.

"Then don't. Please, just this once."

You want to tell him to be selfish again, but there's no need. He lifts himself up, and you realize just how much heat you've generated between the two of you when the air hits you. Perhaps a result of his Vision, but your body feels like a forest catching fire, slowly building more and more until it's unbearable. He must be feeling it too when he strips off his jacket and peels off the black shirt beneath, giving you a front row view of his lean muscular body, arms and shoulders defined by his work with the polearm. He drops his belt and leather tasset, and throws off his gloves, leaving him just in his pants when he leans back down to kiss you again.

Surely you've seen men bathing and frolicking in the rivers before, but you've never been so close to one so bare. Your arms encircle him when he settles his bare chest against yours, lost in the savor of your lips. His skin is smooth and smells of ginger scented soap when his kisses trail down your chin and to your neck. You gasp at the torturously pleasurable jolts you get when his tongue teases your pulse, exposing more of the vulnerable skin to him as you bury your face to his shoulder. Your fingertips grip into the muscles of his back, desperately clinging on as you let the heat consume you.

You whimper his name over and over, encouraging him to give you more of whatever this is. You're no stranger to touching yourself at night, but your own fingers have never felt anything quite like his hips settled between your legs, moving the hardness in his pants against your barely covered sex that's been nearly exposed by the shifting of your robes. Your own hips move as well, seeking pressure and rousing on that one spot that makes your voice come up high and airy.

"Does it feel good?" Thoma asks against your collarbone, pulling at the gap between your robes to expose more skin.

"Yes," you rasp as his lips get closer to the valley of your breasts.

"Can I?" He tugs more at the opening of your robe.

You shut your eyes, feeling shy, but wanting more of what he's giving. You utter your consent and cover your face with your hands when he pulls apart the fabric and reveals your bare chest to him. He makes a throaty sound and runs his hands down the sides of your sternum, thumbs brushing over your nipples in passing, making you gasp and shiver. He does this again and again until you're whimpering and writhing beneath him, and ultimately settles his hands to continually roll your buds under his thumbs.

Eventually, desire and pleasure takes over your shyness, and you drop your hands in favor of once again tangling themselves in his hair. Your fingers move fervently through his loosened locks, knocking his headband off place until he takes a second to fling it to the side. He looks down at you for a moment, blonde hair wild and pushed around, showing a little bit of his forehead to you for the first time. Your cheeks go impossibly warmer at the sight.

"You're beautiful," you say with a light smile, and giggle when his green eyes change from drunk and heavy, to wide in surprise.

"I should be saying that to you first," he says back, matching your smile. His gaze softens and he move his face to kiss you again, though cut short when he speaks again.

"Can I be even more selfish with you?"

You nod, wanting nothing more.

He smothers his face into your neck and molds his body to yours, taking a moment to memorize this feeling.

"Even if we just pretend," he whispers and trails off, a little apprehensive as to what he'll say next. You stroke his hair to coax him into saying whatever prehensile thing he has on his mind.

"Don't marry my lord," he tells you. "Don't marry anyone."

Your heart swells and thumps at the plea. You squeeze him with your arms and kiss the top of his head sweetly.

"Okay," you agree quietly.

"Be mine. Just be mine," he mutters and presses his nose even harder into your skin.

"All yours," you assure him and continue to run gentle touches up and down his spine. He inhales long and deep, then shifts to hover above your again. Sincere green eyes study your face as you stare back at him, a silent understanding passing in the intentional and meaningful look.

Then he indulges, letting his head drop down to your chest, taking one of your sensitive pebbled nipples between his lips. Your mouth falls open, unable to hold back the breathy moans as flashes of need sear your core. He teases the other bud between his fingertips, and you swear your body might break from how much you're trembling from the tightness in your belly. Your legs kick and squirm around his thighs, feverishly searching for relief by rubbing your aching clit on his hardon in his pants.

His name comes out in strings from your lips, begging for something that you're not quite sure of but he has you believing in. Your eyes roll and flutter with each flick of his tongue and jolt of his hips against you. You grab at his back, stifling him into your chest as he sucks even harder at your teat.

He fights your hold to come up for a breath, but instantly dives back into kiss you. He shifts his body, and finally you find that sweet reprieve you had been so desperately seeking. His hips rut against you, moving in rhythm with yours as you stimulate yourself on his hard, covered cock. The friction has you whining and begging muffled pleas into his mouth, though he's also using your kiss to suppress his own voice.

He groans into you, tongue messily teasing yours. The pace of his hips pick up, grinding himself against the heat between your legs. Both of you tremble and heave. You can feel the head of his cock straining through his paints and catching against your swollen, aching nub.

"Thoma, p-please. Something is- If you keep moving like that," you stutter between moans.

"Gonna cum for me? Please cum for me. Gonna make me cum too," he huffs and moves his hips even faster, determined to hear you cry out even more.

"I think- Ohhh! Oh!"

You don't know what's coming, but when it does come, you know. Your eyes screw shut, your own hips jerking up to meet his and ride out your peak, shockwaves of ecstacy rippling through you again and again with the friction of your movements. He lets out something between a grunt and a growl, shoving his face back into the crook of your neck as a sticky wetness soaks your underwear. His body shudders against yours, making you whimper from the sensitivity and his hot breath at your skin.

Eventually, he relaxes his weight onto you, placing a light kiss to your neck without moving his head. He's a little heavy, but it feels nice. Your hold on him lightens, though you still keep your arms around him, and return his affection with a kiss to his forehead.

"I like the selfish side of you," you mutter softly, breaking the quiet afterglow.

"I can be worse, you know," he says, voice a little groggy.

You believe him, smiling to yourself when you tell him, "You'll have to show me."

He lifts his head to kiss your lips, only breaking to say, "When you're all mine, for real."

"When I'm all yours," you promise.

You both are tired from the experience. Some time passes by before you move to lay on the bed properly. The Liyuese silk feels just as Thoma had described, though your head seems to much prefer the comfort of his chest than the luxurious down pillow. He sleepily strokes your hair and murmurs sweetness on your crown. There will be out-turns to follow this yield to desire, but right now, everything is perfect and for once, you're okay with that.

Nishinoya choosing Karasuno for the uniforms. This is top tier Libra behavior and I would do the same.

Every time Kyoutani spikes the ball and the animation does t h e t h i n g

The scene where Oikawa makes everyone cry while cleaning up the gym and Makki's like "No! Don't spoil the mood!"

Aone and Hinata's mutual respect for one another is just like. the absolute. cutest. shit. ever.

The visual of giant Ushijima crushing Hinata and Tsukishima to the ground with his hands.

When Hinata re-crowns Kageyama as King of the Court. I'm trying not to cry rn thinking about it.

When Kageyama pretty much has a mental breakdown on the court from seeing Kunimi move quickly. Yes, I know why he was freaking out, but it's still really funny to me.

Everything about Kenma and Hinata's friendship. I can't even elaborate or else I'll explode.

When Hinata gets hit in the balls at the first-year training camp.

The fact that Kenma and Tora had dark hair as first years, but then have bleached hair as second years. Like, did they decide to do it together? Did Tora just show up one day with gloves and foil and was like "now that we're friends, bleach your hair with me."

We get to see the other characters relationships with each other, not just the ones pertaining to the main characters. Like Oikawa and Iwa, Kuroo and Yaku, Yachi and Kiyoko, Atsumu and Kita, Tendou and Ushijima, etc.

The whole banding together of the team to help dumbasses Kageyama, Hinata, Nishinoya, and Tanaka pass their exams. The fact that Kageyama is even included in this group. The fact that both main characters are stupid. I laugh every time.

Opposing team members thinking Nishinoya is really cool

Everything about the timeskip. Everything. The teams. The jobs. Where everyone ended up. Makes me warm and happy inside.

I legit love every character and could go on a rant on why for every single one. All of them. Even Washijo. Furudate is a master of likability and relatability.

That's what he thinks when he first meets you, a friend of Hanamaki and Matsukawa's who is entirely too good for him. Too pretty. Too interesting. Too charming - something about you screaming that you are not in short of love or any stranger to it. Even if he were good with words, he wouldn't know what to say to you, so he doesn't say much at all. Though it doesn't stop you from becoming his 219th Instagram follower in the proceeding days.

He doesn't know if he should be thankful or frightened that you can tell he's intrigued by you from the lack of feedback he gives you. It's more than confidence, and less than greed - something that beckons him that seems solid and tangible, yet if he were to try and hold it in his hands, he can't. And it unnerves him.

So you meet him 99 percent of the way, not pushing or pulling, not threatening to walk the other way, just waiting for him to take the final step. He's not sure what he ever did to deserve such favored treatment, and surely you will be disappointed when you find out that you laid out all your cards just for him, but he says 'fuck it,' and though he tells himself it's no big deal if it doesn't work out, he hopes by some miracle that it will.

Turns out he never needed a miracle, he just needed you. From the day Kentarou decided to let you in, not a day goes by without him needing you - needing to feel you in his bed, needing you to eat a meal with him, needing to show you a picture of a dog he saw on his daily run. He wonders why he was so hesitant to know you like this. You fit so perfectly - against his side when you sleep, and in his life.

If Kentarou had known love was like this, he would have wanted it all along. All he had ever known was his parents fighting, Yahaba constantly getting nagged at by some girl in high school, and Koganegawa complaining about getting ghosted, again. What makes you so different? What makes what he has with you so different?

The more he tries to pin down the answer, the more of you he sees, and the deeper he falls. He notices that your love seems to overflow, with him, with your friends, with the animals you encounter to the bugs on the ground, from your eyes, from your lips and fingertips, onto pages and into songs. Even when you're mad at him, you curl right up against his chest and cling to him as you pout, forcing him to wrap his strong arms around you and apologize, because really, what else can he do?

"Never thought you'd be the one to give a dating pep talk. You're nicer than I thought," Tsukishima says all too honestly with his usual provoking tone one day at practice, right after Kentarou had convinced Koganegawa that his most recent Tinder failure was the best thing to ever happen to him. Though his advice was rough and blunt, the giant setter found meaning in comfort in his words and thanked him.

Despite his bespectacled teammate's prodding, he finds himself not irritated, but in agreement. When did he become so sympathetic? He wonders for the last few hours of practice. He wonders on the train ride home. He wonders all the way up until moment he opens the front door to your shared apartment, and sees you turn your head from your spot on the couch, your face illuminating at the sight of him as you scramble to get up to greet him by flinging your arms around him before he can even get out the first syllable of 'tadaima.'

Ah, yes.

Your love is like the ceaseless, unabating energy of the sun, generating and radiating from every aspect of your being whether or not there's anything to consume your spirit. It spawns beauty like blooms on the flora and provides comfort to even those considered cold of blood. It's something he could never even dare to emulate, but oddly, Kyoutani Kentarou loves like a lake on a summer day, absorbing the most of your light before reflecting the rest onto those who find refreshment in and around his surface - all around a little warmer and more inviting under your phosphorescence.