glassheart.

THERE COMES A POINT IN EVERY MAN’S LIFE WHERE THE ONLY THING LEFT TO BE IS ‘BRAVE’. with his hand held high above his head, tiptoes and all, karasuno’s ace dangles his suddenly coveted smart phone mere inches from daichi’s inherent grasp. why is he doing this? daichi is so scary, and he’s only promised to be even scarier. all asahi has to do is stop. give it up. drop the act. 

it’d be so easy. but asahi chooses to do this the hard way, and he does it with a lazy smile. this will clearly be the first and last time he finds his voice to tease.

“ —nuh-uh. there it goes...” with a stalwart palm pressed to the center of daichi’s forehead, he holds him back while his opposing thumb clicks the send button. “on its way to suga. i bet he’ll love it. you think so, too...?” 

this is azumane asahi’s last day on earth, and the fool is laughing about it. 

     As soon as he confirms it, she’s all ready to offer something to replace the dying elastic, but nothing can prepare her for how he starts his next sentence. It takes a moment for that bizarrely-hilarious series of words (“hey…you have hair.”) to fully register. But once they do, she’s immediately done for. Throwing her head back, Nana releases a booming peal of cackling laughter into the air.

     “H–air?! I s–sure do, don’t I?!” She barely gets the words out through her wheezing, halfway to doubled-over within seconds with one hand clasped over her stomach and the other smacking itself repeatedly against his shoulder (in the same way one might slap their own knee while laughing, though in this case it’s considerably ruder, considering this isn’t her body part to use for such a purpose). “Fuck–that’s so–that first part sounded so ominous, what’s with that?! You gonna steal it from me, or what?!”

     “Haaaaaaaaaaaaaa… Oh my god. Okay! I’m good now! I’m good!” Finally she manages to catch most of her breath back, cheeks aching from laughter and body shaking with mirth. Her left hand’s stopped clapping his shoulder and clamped resolutely down on it instead in order to keep upright. “Sorry–you were gonna ask for a hair tie or something? I have one, I have one!“

LAUGHTER IS THE LAST THING HE WANTS TO HEAR, but it’s tragically the first. asahi isn’t sure what to do with his hands, or what exactly exemplifies the humiliation of his stance — is it the crooked, uncomfortable smile or the drop of his shoulders? that’s not for him to decide. 

she’s really outdoing herself. like, she’s going out of her way. this is torture. “yeah... you definitely have... w—wait, no! i didn’t mean for it to come out so...” ominous ( her words ). but hey, it’s middle-ranged on the scale of adjectives that’ve been tossed in his direction in the past, worst of which being bloodcurdling criminal. he’s still smiling weird, because it’s been too long to drop it comfortably; and in an attempt to behave casually, he staggers out an awkward laugh.

HOW DOES HE KEEP RUNNING INTO THIS GUY? keep walking. head down. keep it together keep it together. don’t make eye contact. asahi, in actuality, stops walking; perks his head up. doesn’t keep it together. makes an unnatural amount of eye contact.