the destination

bf! miya atsumu is the type to prepare an extravagant breakfast in bed for no reason because he knows how much you think it’s a hassle to cook up eggs or place a slice of sourdough in the toaster. He makes sure to shut the kitchen door to make sure you won’t wake up from the loud blender when he’s making your morning smoothie to give you your daily dose of vitamins and fibre. 

bf! miya atsumuwho massages your feet and shoulders after your nightly showers because he knows how much your office heels make your feet ache and how that non-ergonomic chair in your office hurts your muscles all while listening to your office gossip and how much you hate the old lady for never replacing the creamer in the fridge. 

bf! miya atsumu keeps track of your cycle and knows exactly when your period is gonna start and stocks up the fridge with mangoes and your favourite food because he knows you and bf! miya atsumu will always peel and slice the mangoes for you, no requests or demands needed. He’s your boyfriend, he knows you.

bf! miya atsumu who kept your relationship hidden in the shadows because he knew how much you valued privacy but everything disintegrated when a paparazzi unknowingly followed him outside your apartment building and captured a photo of you and Atsumu holding hands after you guys came back from a midnight 7/11 ice cream run. 

bf! miya atsumu who sued the entire company for invasion of privacy and won to establish the fact that he wasn’t joking around when it came to protecting your privacy.

bf! miya atsumu who began posting you more regularly, rather excessively according to the social media team of MSBY Black Jackals, after the relationship became public. 

bf! miya atsumu who’s always spotted at luxury boutiques by his teammates and fans shopping for women’s bags, accessories and dresses because he knows about your penchant for collecting bags and jewelleries. 

bf! miya atsumu is the type of guy to deliver a dress on your front door of your apartment with a note “Wear this tonight.” and it’s a burgundy, off-shoulder sheath dress that has a ruched waist which you paired with your black satin Manolo pumps, tear-drop shaped ruby earrings and a diamond necklace that was passed down from your mother. 

bf! miya atsumu picks you on the dot at half past eight for your dinner date at a three star michelin restaurant that he booked five months in advance because it’s the rave that all couples are dying to go to right now. He knocks on your front door with a bouquet of red roses cradled in his arms and gives you a chaste kiss on the lips when you finally greet him with your beautiful self. 

bf! miya atsumu gives you the first bite of his lobster that’s cooked to a tee and gives you the last bite too. 

bf! miya atsumu drives with one hand on the steering wheel and the other holding your left hand and he places his soft lift on your knuckles every so often and sings ‘Passenger Seat’ by Stephen Speaks because it’s his love song for you. His favourite line, “and I've got all that I need right here in the passenger seat” which he sings while looking directly at you with cupid-struck eyes. 

bf! miya atsumu rents out a tiny private island for your anniversaries because who doesn’t love a romantic dinner date in the stretched out sand during sunset. 

bf! miya atsumu who hates taking you to Onigiri Miya because he knows that his brother’s onigiris taste much better than his but you comfort him with a lie and say that his are better and that he should be the one running Onigiri Miya instead. 

bf! miya atsumu replaces your coffee with a decaffeinated one when it’s past 17.00 when you work from home because he knows you have trouble falling asleep. You can always see bf! miya atsumu in the background bringing you sliced fruits mid work meetings and everyone’s heart can’t help but melt. 

bf! miya atsumu heads to the local bookstore to buy the new volume of the book series that you prefer over him during the night when he hears that the physical copies have been released.

bf! miya atsumu buys you a bouquet of sunflowers every Friday night on his way home to you but on one special evening, bf! miya atsumu notices the jewellery store that’s always in his peripheral vision and bf! miya atsumu decides he no longer wants to be your boyfriend anymore. On that special evening, a small velvet box sat inside the glovebox of his black car whilst he made his way to you.

“I don’t like you.” Tsukishima Kei recites as he tucks in the loose strands of hair behind your left ear, the tips of his finger gently frisking the sides of your cheek. Too afraid that his well-trimmed nails may graze your soft, gentle, and fragile skin.

“I don’t like you.” Tsukishima Kei says as he runs towards your apartment after hearing you caught a fever. His long legs strides across the quiet city, clicking his tongue when someone was walking too slow in front of him.

“I don’t like you.” He swears as he feeds you a scoop of his mango flavoured frozen yogurt with his own spoon. His strawberry coloured cheeks and burning ears dared not lie to you though. 

“I don’t like you.” He swears when your cheer is the only sound he can make out from the crowd but his teammates can see his eyes search for you every time there was a sliver of relaxing time in the match. 

“I don’t like her.” He thinks after you begin blabbing about his stupid favourite manga like it was the best fiction in the world. It is. He tries to mask the excitement that someone could relate to him, but he keeps asking you which one is your favourite arc or your favourite character. When he finds out your most egregious take matched his, he couldn’t help but say once more to himself, ‘I don’t like her.’ 

“I don’t like her.” He prays to the heavens when he finds himself face planted in his pillow, his phone on his right hand after you just messaged him ‘goodnight’ with a smiley face emoji. The grip on his phone tightens and he can’t help but sit up, ruffle his hair and pull it. He’s going mad. Oh no. 

“I don’t like her.” His debit card pays for your coffee that you didn’t ask for. He was just being a good, respectful guy who knows that you like having coffee before morning lectures. There’s truly nothing much to it. 

“I don’t like her.” He utters as his eyes bore through a guy’s body who was obviously flirting with you. His skin feels as though he were set to flames, heart pumping like crazy and cramping like muscles when he sees you with another guy. No, he doesn’t like her. 

“I really don’t like you.” He swears as he stands outside of your lecture hall, waiting for you to emerge from the sea of unknown faces and when he sees you, his shoulders relax, a slow exhale leaves his nostrils like he just heard the most relieving good news ever. His hands automatically reach out for those three heavy textbooks in your hands that can potentially cause back aches if you carry them around for too long. 

“I really don’t like you.” He scoffs as you grab a small piece of his sweet and sour chicken from his plate, but he doesn’t shield his plate, he never does. His palm gently pushes his tray closer to yours, inviting you to his space. 

“I really don’t like you.” He complains when your head rests on his right shoulder during the bus ride on the way back to your respective dorms. His posture stiffens, careful not to wake you from your mini nap after he feels your breathing reach a slow rhythmic pace. However, his left hand will still catch your head from slipping and slowly place it in a position where you wouldn’t be uncomfortable. He breathes a sigh from relief after he realises he hasn’t woken you up. 

“I don’t like you.” He chants in his head, but his hands hold a bouquet of white and pink tulips. He’s dressed in a light blue flannel, white t-shirt underneath, and his favourite pair of baggy jeans, while standing outside your door. You stand in front of him, wearing your pastel, butter-yellow dress in your cream-coloured 2 inch heels.

Perhaps that other time where you two went to town together and he held your soft hand whilst his was roughened by the manual labour of farming, thumb grazing the back of your hand as if to soothe you amongst the crowd of people—claiming it was for the purpose of not losing you.

In some days, his love was like the taiko drums– loud, obvious, and proud. That one time, he went all the way to Tokyo to buy you that cardigan that was only available in that branch and you both swore you guys were just friends. That memory was his spring. 

You remove the pink tissue paper in the paper bag unveiling the cream-coloured cashmere cardigan you didn’t want to buy yourself because you thought it was a waste of money. “Shinsuke!” Your twinkling eyes, your upturned lips, the skin on your cheeks pushed up to your eyes, became the core of his life. The root of the trees, the seed of the land. 

You threw your arms around him, arms wrapped around his neck, your scent filling his nostrils which he hoped would stain his grey crew neck sweater. “I’m glad you like it.” He’d say with a subtle curve on his pink lips, when you peel yourself away from him, he feels saddened from the lost warmth, a silent prayer in his mind hoping it was more than a fleeting hug of gratitude. 

When Kita Shinsuke soon came to realise he loved you, after an epiphany during his high school reunion with his former teammates, he moved swiftly and efficiently. He didn’t want to waste more time on being just friends, he wasn’t that type of man to let something precious slip away, he had to be yours. 

Kita Shinsuke didn’t ask you out straight away, no— you deserved something more, you needed to be treasured and cherished. Shinsuke wasn’t slow but well paced, he made sure to present himself in a stance of a man in love rather than a polite neighbourhood boy. 

He gave you flowers every two weeks from the flower shop by the end of the street. He gave you side dishes that he prepared himself, from ingredients from his garden, just to make sure you were eating well. He began telling you to stop driving yourself to and from work and that he’ll do that for you instead saying “you really shouldn’t be driving when tired.” Love with Kita Shinsuke meant being taken care of unwillingly yet gratefully. 

By the third month of courting you, he asked you out on a domestic setting, something like him. In his kitchen, you perched on top of the marbled kitchen counter top whilst your feet dangled.

He was supposed to wait but even a perfect man like Kita Shinsuke can crack. “This may come on too strong, but I love you. I began loving you from gosh knows when, but my heart knows it’s you. Just you, it can only be you.” His soft wood coloured eyes gazing at you like you were the stars, the pinnacle of his life. The truth is, you are. 

Kita Shinsuke, the man of virtue, the man built upon the tiny every day habits, the man of simplicity has not known excitement or the rush of adrenaline since his volleyball days when he was a captain but you, you changed him. You altered the axis of which his world turned, you made him feel the heat of blood that pooled his veins everyday, you– the mythical being that changed him, the love of his life.

So when you said the magical words of “I love you” back to him, he saw the heaven gates open. Perhaps his grandmother was right about the divine beings above, that they were loving and giving but maybe his grandmother was wrong too. If heaven was to be reached after death, how come it was there, standing in front of him, hugging him, loving him. What was heaven if not this? That must be a lie, anything else beyond death that is not you must be hell. 

Kita Shinsuke waiting for you down the aisle, you in your dream white dress with the sheer veil over your head, he swore he wasn’t going to cry but when the thought dawned upon him that you were about to be each other’s, tears rained from his eyes. He crouched down, creasing his leather shoes, tearing up as he watched you take a step closer to him bit by bit, his best man— Aran never knew that such scene could even occur before him, 

Kita Shinsuke hiccuped as he said “I do,” his vows lengthy and loving, thanking you for everything, thanking you for being willing to marry him and love him, thanking you for existing, telling you that “You are the woman whom I’ve prayed for, waited for, live for.”

Kita Shinsuke's hands trembled as he placed the gold band on your ring finger, the cold metal in his hot hands, he still couldn't believe it. He was yours and you are his, bound eternally by the skies and heavens. 

However, that day wasn’t Kita Shinsuke's most special day. To him, every day with you was the most special day but perhaps if he had a favourite it would be your wedding day. 

Kita Shinsuke as a husband is the type of love you listen to from 90s love songs, like ‘Iris’ by the Goo Goo Dolls. There were no arguments about who does which chores because if you’re tired then he’ll do all of them, and if he’s tired then he’ll do half of the chores whilst you complete the rest. Things weren’t 50/50, they were adjusted to how things needed to be according to needs. 

You’d slow dance in the kitchen with him, your arms wrapped around his neck whilst his hands were firmly placed on your hips, the gentle music in the background, your giggles and his echoing in the four cream coloured walls.

He’d nuzzle his head in the crook of your neck, his nose pressing against your skin slightly tickling you, whispering “I love you’s” and telling you how much he appreciates you.

You both slowly move your feet, synchronised and slow, to the left, then to the right. The scent of coffee wafting through the air, the patterned sunlight due to the laced curtain of your kitchen kissing both of your faces, the chirps of the sparrows from outside. "I just wanna slow dance with you." He'd mutter almost breathless, his heart could never handle you.

"Hmm, me too Shinsuke." You'd reply, as you press your forehead against his firm shoulder.

When many seasons or years have passed, when his hands may stiff, back may ache, hair turned to snow, he will always slow dance with you.

He'll make your coffee, give you your vitamins, place a cashmere throw over your shoulder as you'll watch your grandkids play in your garden built on love.

You barge into Sakusa’s room despite his maids telling you that ‘young master wouldn’t like that’ but you go ahead anyway because you’ve never seen your Omi mad at you. “Omi please be my boyfriend for Friday’s charity ball.” His door swung open revealing you in the black tweed dress with your white crew neck cardigan, the MiuMiu hairpin on the left side of your face which made him slightly egotistic. 

His body slightly faced towards you, as he was tucked in his study table with legs crossed on the chair, you grabbed his hand and squeezed them slightly. “Omi! Please” Don’t look at him like that, you might give him heart embolisms for goodness’ sake!

“Sure.” He says in a non-chalant tone, his eyes sleazy with thoughts of how to make you his during the four days before the event. Your touch retracts from his hands causing a small frown to appear on his lips. 

You jump up around his room while giggling, your hair bouncing in the process which makes him smile gently. “Omi, you’re the best!” 

He spins his chair around to face you directly and quirks his brow at you with a smirk on his pink lips. “Oh yeah?” 

“Of course!” You reply innocently not knowing the effect you had on him.

He stands up from his seat and walks towards you, his onyx eyes holding a deep gaze with unknown intentions, he holds your left arm with his large right hand that wraps around your perfectly. “Even better than Komori?” You nodded your head at his question which caused his smirk to grow better, he licks his bottom lip slightly when he looks at your lips that were shined by your favourite lip gloss. 

“Am I your favourite then?” His hand moves away from your arm and brushes the hair off of your right shoulder.

He painstakingly slowly brings up his hands on your face to caress it softly and observes you directly in the eyes. “Who else would it be, Kiyo?” You laugh at his incredulous question. “Can we go shopping right now then?” You invite, but you both knew it was a command and not an invitation. 

Kiyoomi’s eyes brightened, good you were slowly learning that you never have to ask him. “Sure thing, Y/n. Let me get changed first, m’kay?” He gives you the smile only you were allowed to see, not that he could help it when you were the only sweet thing in this boring life. 

You sit at his bed, your hands on both sides of your thighs and tapped the bed with a heavy hand. “Lay down if you want.” He gives you permission, something he’d never do for anyone else. 

“No, thank you Omi, my hair’s gonna get messed up if I do that.” You jump up from his bed and fiddled with the things neatly arranged on his table. 

Sakusa paid no mind and trudged on to his walk-in closet, picked a simple white polo shirt and faded blue jeans that were slightly baggy, opened his watch drawer and picked the leather watch you’d given him for his birthday last year. 

Kiyoomi was out in less than 10 minutes and watched you quietly as you were probably writing ‘good luck’ on his volleyball routine notebook. His notebook collected a repertoire of your silly doodles and small notes which earned teasing from Komori when he opened his notebook next to him. 

He leans over your shoulder, his face fanning you, his breath tickling the exposed skin on your neck. “Ki-yoo-mi?” You utter his name with pauses between the syllables, you blink your eyes twice.

Got you. He thinks. He knows you only do that when you’re flustered and shy. “Are you okay, Y/n?” You gulp hard when he leans in closer to your face, his lips too close to yours. 

You place your hands on his shoulders and push him away slowly, an awkward smile on your lips whilst you attempt to laugh the tension off. “Ha…ha Omi you took so long. Let’s go, you silly turtle.” You got up from his chair abruptly and ran off downstairs to put on your shoes. 

He watches your disappearing silhouette with a shit-eating grin on his face, you were so cute in his eyes. So sweet, so honest, so kind-hearted. You couldn’t even lie if you wanted to, your avertful gaze and twiddling fingers was the tell-tale of your heart. He just wanted to keep someone like you by his side, no–it had to be you. 

Sakusa follows you from behind in a more mannered pace, not wanting his mom to nag at him if he were to run inside the house. His parents sat in the living room, his father with a newspaper in his hand while his mother was sipping her tea that she grew herself. They were used to having you here, the slight “disarray” in your actions now familiar to them. 

His mother did not disprove you nor did she like you, he just knew that her youngest son could have someone from a better family but yours was good enough too. You were well-educated, polite, and interested in arts like her so she wouldn’t necessarily mind having you as a daughter in law.

His father, on the other hand, liked you. He knew Sakusa Kiyoomi never made any wrong decisions in his life, his son was well-calculated like him, he knew how to run the cogs well without instructions and did not feel the need to interrupt Kiyoomi in his life. Your family was rising fast in the ranks of high-society despite having only started thirty-five years ago, your family took control of the tech market and held its strings since 1985. It was a sweet treat to have you as a daughter in law. 

As parents of Sakusa Kiyoomi, they also wanted his happiness more than anything. He never asked for anything as a kid, so if their approval was wanted then so be it. They knew their son was damned love-struck to you. 

The black Rolls Royce was waiting for him, the driver standing by the open back-seat door ready to close it for him when he enters. He steps foot in the car and faces you, the car food shuts beside him with a light slam. 

You look at him with that smile on your face that turns him dumb, you shift closer to him so that your bodies are side by side to each other. “Much better.” Damn it, Y/n. It was his duty to make you flustered, you weren’t supposed to make him turn to strawberry jam. 

Your arms interlock with his–hugging it like a plushie, your head against his left shoulder and your eyes closed ready to sleep on the way to the Ginza shopping centre. His elbow leans against the window, he huffs slightly when he knows that you don’t even know what your touch meant to him. He stares off at the familiar outlines of his house as they slowly drift off to the mall as your body relaxes against his. 

When you guys got to the mall, you were borderline sprinting to boutiques you wanted to go to. To Kiyoomi, had this been any other shopping experience it would have meant the most modicum and felt the most vapid experience in his years of living. However, your presence transposes his feelings– your excitement rubs off on him and he feels a little more fervour to enter the meagre shops in this infrastructure. 

“Omi walk faster!” You mither with a forced pout on your cherry glossed lips, frustrated by his unwavering tempo you walk back at him and take his calloused hands, his fingers automatically interlocking with yours. Their classmates who recognised them flinched when they saw you touch Sakusa, but turned bewildered when he subtly smiled at the gesture instead.

“You’re too excited.” It wasn’t a protest to your chirpiness, but a mere comment that you knew was a compliment from Sakusa. 

Your feet successfully enters a shop after having passed at least twenty boutiques, Sakusa sits on the beige sofa and feasts upon your gleeful state. You reach out for the calf-skin bag in front of you, cream in colour but with pink peonies and carnations painted on it, the iconic ‘D’ hanging on the bag. “Omi, does it look good on me?” You question.

Sakusa didn’t know how to respond, that question was foolish in nature itself. Did the bag look good on you? Yes. But were you the one who made it look good? Most likely. “Yes, of course.” A sales assistant comes up to the both of you.

He was new, his face unfamiliar to Sakusa and you. “I think this one would suit you better, miss.”

However, his opinion makes Sakusa uneasy, well mad to be the most precise. The glisten in your eyes slightly fades, you hand over the saddle bag to the sales assistant for him to return it to the shelf. Sakusa stays quiet, maintains his composure but his anger doesn’t subside with the passing time.

The sales assistant hands you a different bag, cheaper in looks in his opinion and wasn’t your style at all. It was ostentatious, definitely not your style. You try on the bag with a forced smile that doesn’t slip through Sakusa’s perceptible eyes. “It’s not really my style.” You laugh off forcibly. “May you take me to the ready to wear section instead?” You ask politely, wanting to run away from the bag section immediately. 

Sakusa gets up and follows you to the cabine on the upper floor of the boutique. The room was dimly lit, no one else there but you three, Sakusa traces your gaze where you were glancing at the navy blue peacoat that was new this season. He walks to the rack himself and grabs it for you. No words said, just actions. 

He passively hands you over the wool coat.“This would look amazing on you.” His tone is dull, but his words are honest and plain. Your heart thumps, cheeks slightly warmed with his words. 

“Ah, thank you Omi.” You take it from his hands, and unbutton the coat for you to try on. The coat fits perfectly on you. You stand in front of the mirror, Sakusa is just a foot behind you and stares at your reflection in the mirror, admiring your beauty silently. He takes a step forward, untucks your hair from the jacket, the tip of his fingers frisking your neck which you became hyperaware of. 

“Hey…I can do that myself.” You were supposed to raise your voice slightly but your volume came quieter than a mouse’s squeak. 

You always found one thing amusing about your dear friend and that was his blunt words. You found it funny when he insulted the guys in your class but that was just Sakusa stating facts and knowledge. You found it funny when he made fun of Komori for his poor taste in clothing stating it was ‘lacking in class.’ They were all funny to you but now his bluntness perplexed you. “I know you can. I just wanted to do it for you.” 

“You’re such a weirdo Omi.” You grump and avoid eye contact on the full length mirror. Sakusa doesn’t say anything, swallowing your words as compliment because he knew it meant it served you well, 

He can’t recall when he began appreciating your presence. Perhaps it was when you had a spare mask in your bag when he couldn’t find where his one went. “Omi, here you go.” You caught him by surprise, you tip-toed in efforts to match his tall stature, your fingers grazing his skin ever so slightly whilst you tucked elastic material around his ears. You were careful with him, treated him so gently like he was going to break with your soft touch, he was new to that feeling. 

Maybe it was that other time when you guys were in first year of high school, Sakusa was unpopular amongst the other guys in the volleyball team. You guys were standing outside the gym, you were walking with Sakusa to the volleyball club because you wanted to see what the Itachiyama volleyball club was like but you didn’t expect vulgar comments to be spat from his very own teammates to your dear, sweet Sakusa Kiyoomi. 

He was accustomed to distasteful comments due to his prowess despite having less years of experience. He paid no mind to it, why should he listen to people who were inferior to him? 

However, you cared. Your heel raises from the ground, your palms covering his ears, your warmth enveloping his face. “Don’t listen to them, Kiyoomi.” Sakusa’s never seen that look on you, your gaze stern almost cold— you looked indifferent. A sight foreign to him, he felt blessed being the only one to witness this side of you. “Some people are just crass, don’t worry Kiyo, I’ll take care of it.” 

Take care of it you did. The boys were sent to a 3 day suspension and made to write apologies to Sakusa. He was unwonted to this unwarranted treatment, this was peculiar on his palate. He’s used to not caring, indifference, detached from emotions such as anger or hatred but you carried it for him, felt it for him.

Was this friendship or was this love? What was this to you? Was this modicum or plenitude to you? Was this concern or care? What was he to you? 

Perhaps he began liking you when you guys were kids. The new family next door in the exclusive private neighbourhood, you wore pink dresses or skirts full of laces and frills, white socks with heart patterns, quite loud yet mannerful but he didn’t like you because you were cute and pretty. 

You were just like any other girls at kindergarten, you being neighbours didn’t catch his attention, you were just dull like everyone else. He always thought that way until his mother forced him to socialise with you, “go play in the garden” the adults say to have their private conversations. 

Sakusa follows you to your well kept garden, the golden sphinx fountain sat in the middle of the grass spitting water from its mouth and surrounded by a variety of colourful flowers.

He was about to sit on the bench until you called his name. “Sakusa-kun!” Your voice had a higher pitch back then, in the present now deepened due to time and hormones. 

“Come sit.” Your wool cardigan laid on the freshly cut grass. Sakusa knew then that you weren’t just some dull girl, you were considerate, kind, observant. Now you’ve hooked him. 

“Fine.” Little Sakusa Kiyoomi says, his tone quite passive. Were you guys supposed to share that tiny cardigan you wore? He removed his navy blue jumper leaving him in his short-sleeved white shirt, placing it flat next to where you had placed your cardigan. He sits on your cardigan. You tilt your head quite befuddled by his actions. “Sit on my jumper.” He instructs. 

You sit down on his jumper, brushing your small hands on your bottom as you sit down to make sure the skirt of your dress doesn't lift. “Sakusa-kun, you’re so kind.” It was childhood innocence speaking, he assumes as he remembers the memory. 

“You’re weird, L/n.” That was probably the nicest thing you’ve heard from little Sakusa. 

You lightly laugh at his words and shrug your shoulders playfully. “I think you’re weirder, Sakusa-kun.” You sit on your knees and rip the carefully grown flowers from your garden. Had he done that in his mother’s garden, he would have received an earful already. 

Your small fists place the flowers on Sakusa’s raven hair, his wavy hair being the most perfect canvas for your mother’s flowers. Sakusa didn’t mind it. Odd. “You look like Rapunzel now.” 

“She’s a blonde woman.” He states as a matter of factly. 

“I know, silly.” You roll your eyes at him. He was confused but does not push you any further. 

Sakusa would have never done what he was going to do had the person in front of him was different. He rips the pink flower closest to him, he gets on one knee and leans towards you, situates the flower on your right ear. “Now, you’re officially a princess.” His face doesn’t watch his intentions, especially the dulled cadence he always speaks in. 

Maybe that was the first day he became mesmerised by you.”Really? Am I truly a princess now?” You delicately touch the flower he placed on you, afraid you might ruin what he had given to you. Your lips curve up so much he thought it might be painful. Sakusa blushes at the scenery before him, catches him the breath, your smile, your visage became the most ethereal to him. 

Perhaps that was the moment he’d associated happiness with you. 

Sakusa snaps back to reality when he hears the sales associate ask if he should pack that one up for you which you vigorously nodded your head at. You looked so elated that it made him happier too. 

You finally get out of that shop after purchasing a few more things, tapping your dad’s credit card immediately before Sakusa taps his instead but you kept a watchful eye this time.

Sakusa lifts your shopping bags single handedly with his left hands so his free one could hold your vacant palms. You guys hold hands instinctively, neither of you knowing if it was romantic or not but both of you knew it was comfortable. You both knew that it felt right, there was no need to stray away when it felt perfectly in place. 

You guys enter a dress shop next, the main reason for your coming. You guys both sit down next to each other on the comfort of the soft seats, the catalogue in your hands whilst the sales associate stood near you guys for the moment you ask for their assistance. 

Your hand flicks through the pages, skimming through every dress until something felt appropriate but it was hard. Should you go for a sweet-heart neckline, scoop, square or v-neck? There were so many to choose from it made you slightly dazed. 

Sakusa watches the pages as you flick through them, the skin between your eyebrows slightly tightened, your bottom being lightly chewed on, your indecisiveness clearly painted on your face. Your hands abruptly stop, you stare at the dress that was printed on the paper. It was simple, elegant, and timeless. A dress that would embody your beauty. 

The dress was sleeveless, ended just above the ankles, white floral prints with gold accentuates. It was the perfect dress for the charity ball, you didn’t even need to try it on. You knew it was the one. You chirpily call over the lady and ask for the dress in your size. 

Just when you were about to get up and get ready to leave, Sakusa halts your steps. “Pick more dresses you like, I’ll pay for them.” You were about to open your mouth but Sakusa gets to you first. “Don’t decline, I want to give you a gift.” Sakusa’s already set his mind to it, you knew there was no way you could talk him out of it. 

You try on a few dresses this time and every time you open the curtain of the dressing room, Sakusa’s world freezes, his mind captures you perfectly and burns you in his brain. He can hear his heartbeat in his ears, he can hear his thoughts running wild. Perchance he was going crazy but you glow more and more each time to try on a different dress. 

“Omi…Omi…!” He returns focus when he hears you calling out for him. “I think this dress doesn’t flatter me.” You say, slightly insecure by the way the dress shaped you. 

“Nonsense.” He shakes his head, angry at the words you say at yourself. How dare you hurt yourself? "You look impeccable."

“I’m tired. I don’t wanna try any more dresses.” You whined at him, this was the 12th dress you tried on and Kiyoomi kept on insisting on “one more” each time he promised “it’ll be the last one.” 

“We’ll take every dress she’s tried on.” The lady nods at Sakusa. “Actually, those dresses that are on that rack too.” He signals the rack that were designed for everyday wear rather than special occasions, they suited your style and Sakusa knew that very well. 

“Yes sir.” The lady knew that her commission was looking good enough today. Selling one dress would be enough to cover her monthly necessities like rent, electricity and water bills but selling twenty five dresses? She wouldn’t need to worry about money for at least a year and a half. Rich kids were the best. 

When you both stepped foot outside the shop, you had a small sulk on your face. “Y/n, what’s wrong?” His heart aches at the sight of your saddened eyes.

You were guilt-ridden, you didn’t want Kiyoomi to be spending his money on you. You know he’s from a prominent family just like yours but you knew the value of money; you knew how much work needed to be done in order to earn billions of yen. “Omi, you still have some money, right?” 

Sakusa Kiyoomi wanted to laugh at your needless worry, how could you worry your brain over some humdrum thing. He chuckles at your words, takes a hold of your hand and brushes his thumb over your knuckles. Your skin is soft compared to his. “You don’t need to worry about such trivial things when you’re with me, especially money.” He brings up your knuckles to his lips and presses a soft kiss. 

You, all of a sudden, feel hot all around your body. Gosh he was so hot. One thing about rich boy Sakusa Kiyoomi was that he was never subtle. His affection was blaring but to you that was just Kiyoomi’s odd quirk. He’s always been different from other kids. You impetuously pull your hand away from his lips, taken aback from his physical affection. This is just Omi being weird, you convince yourself, he’s just being a weirdo like always.

Sakusa Kiyoomi may have had his parents credit cards behind his back but he had his own income too. Modelling contracts from Calvin Klein, Prada, Bottega Veneta, Cartier and Lacoste for their tennis sportswear though he doesn’t even play tennis. Alongside college, volleyball, and modelling he also traded stocks and owned dividends of his family’s company. Sakusa Kiyoomi may be the youngest in his family, but he was no less financially capable than all his other relatives.

Sakusa had a smug smirk on his face, cocks his head to the left and daringly looks at you confused as if he wasn’t the weird one. “Omi, you’re annoying. I hate you.” 

“You like it though.” He retorts back. He inwardly laughs at your spineless words, you can’t say you hate him when you’re now grabbing his hand to drag him to your favourite cafe. You especially cannot say you hate him when you spoon feed him your favourite opera cake every time you eat in the little sweet shop. 

Sakusa pushes open the glass door of the patisserie, the warmth inviting you in, the scent of the sugary goods luring you further. You had a small bounce in your step when you walked towards the counter. “Will you have the usual?” You respond with a nod. Sakusa orders for the both of you and taps his card readily on to the card machine. 

You sit somewhere near the back of the cafe knowing Sakusa preferred tranquil over the distinctive chatters of the people in the patisserie. He rests the shopping bags down the floor and rests his elbows on the circular table, a thin vase placed in the centre with a handful of baby’s-breath. 

“Okay Omi.” You place both of your hands on the table, your posture shifting when you lean towards the table. “Me and you have only dated for a month, but we’ve liked each other since second year of high school. I confessed after you guys won the volleyball collegiate match.” Sakusa could barely hear you but he wasn’t listening per se, just watching those kissable move as you said different words. 

“Then, we should act real couple-y around them like hold hands or something.” As if you don’t already do that. Whatever you want, he’ll do it. Just say it and he’ll follow. Just how did those love struck eyes slip past you? “We should make out too.” Sakusa nods barely registering your words.

“HA!” You point an accusing finger at him. “I knew you weren’t listening.” You sit up straight, your back against the wooden chair. “I knew you were too compliant.” You cross your arms angrily in front of him, just in time the waiter arrives and settles your order on the table. 

“What makes you think I won’t make out with you if you ask?” He wasn’t properly listening, that was true, but his response wasn’t a lie. The waiter nearly tips over the coffee upon hearing Sakusa’s words. 

“Omi shut up! Please!” You cover your face with your palms, biting your lips harshly.

“Baby, stop being so shy.” You thought you’d gotten used to that silly pet name he’d always call you but now his words felt more intimate and too real. You space out your fingers just exposing your eyes, you see that stupid wolfish grin on his lips that you found enticing. For a guy with no dating experience, he sure did not act it. 

You wanted to die, the waiter attempts to bite down his laugh at you two but it escapes his lips slightly. The waiter walks away, you move your hands away from your face and pick up your dessert fork while muttering a string of curses under your breath which you made loud enough for Sakusa to hear. 

Sakusa sips on his espresso, you fixate on his long slender hands then move on when he licks the foam off his upper lip, you watch it with intent, you gulp– possibly at your cake or him. “You okay there?” 

“Perfectly fine.” You go back to eating your sweet treat. You scoop up a piece of your cake and feed it to him, he doesn’t hesitate to take it. Maybe you know or don’t know but those were indirect kisses to him. “Kiyoomi?” You call out his name in a dulcet tone, erasing the bitterness of the coffee from his tongue. 

“Hmm?” He hums, lips pressed on a tight line while he looks at you with unreadable eyes.

You wanted to ask him what you meant to him, but you bite your tongue and swallow your momentary courage instead. “You should enjoy sweets from time to time with me, you know.” You find an excuse immediately.

“Am I not?” A genuine question slips from his lips, was he not giving you what you wanted? Does he need to do anything more for you? What else do you want him to do?

“All you do every time we come here is drink that espresso. Don’t you have cheat days or anything?” You stab your cake so hard that it shakes the plate a bit. You wish you could express your true intentions instead, but you were a coward.

His hand reaches towards your face, you should have moved back from his touch but you wanted his skin on you, his thumb brushing the corner of your lip to remove the cream that had gotten on to your face. He brings his thumb towards his lips and cleans his thumb with his pink lips. “Do you need to tell me something?” Worry wrapped around his words when he noticed your complaint wasn’t the truth. 

“No, just that.” Your response was short and hastened like you wanted to run away from something. He lets you off the hook this time, not wanting to make you uncomfortable by forcing you to do something you didn’t want.

He sighs heavily and opens his mouth to tease you. “You’re such a messy eater.” You roll your eyes and begin talking about the new boys in your course that you desperately wanted to get rid of. 

“So they’re loud and annoying?” He repeats what you recant to him from your very distinct memory. 

“Yes!” You exasperate with a sigh. You flail your arms around the air, your words alone not enough to express the distaste you had for the guys in your class. “And one of them just can’t take a hint.” Your words cause Sakusa to slam down the mug on the table, he loses his well-crafted facade of composure.

Sakusa was a vicious man in nature, he’s used to having everything, he’s used to taking care of things he treasured well but he seemed to have messed up with you. “What’s their names?” He felt frustrated at himself, you guys go to the same university and he didn’t even know such treachery was happening in his presence. 

“Kiyoomi, it’s fine. I handled it…” There was a pause in your words, you averted your gaze and looked at the meaningless passerby outside. “I told them you were my boyfriend.” Sakusa’s shoulders relax as if a weight had been lifted off his chest. 

“Good, that’s good.” He reaffirms your choices. His right leg still shakes under the table, his jitter that indicated annoyance and anxiety. 

“You’re not mad?” 

“You already claimed me as your boyfriend in front of random girls, there’s nothing wrong with adding a few guys on that list.” He bluntly replies. Sakusa may have not shown it physically but he was in euphoria when he heard that. 

You were an independent woman and Sakusa Kiyoomi loved being the man you can be dependent on without fear or doubt. He loved knowing you had trust in him. He loved knowing he was the only man you could be secure with when you needed a hand. He felt special and he loved it.

Somehow, you still couldn’t see that. “Does that mean I can call you my girlfriend too?” He asks with a wolfish grin. 

“Yes, of course. It’s only fair that you can do that.” You look away. You weren’t supposed to say that, you should have just said ‘Omi, you’re being a weirdo’ like you always do now he’s choking on his own spit because of you. His knuckles touch his lips as he coughs out the pressure from his throat. 

Once you were finished eating you couldn’t move, your stomach feeling heavy from the cake and the caramel frappe you ordered. “Wait here for a bit. I’ll be back.” He stands up from his seat and slips the wooden chair under the table. 

“Hey! Where are you going?” You exclaimed when he gave you that empty reason.

“Toilet.” He says but he walks out of the cafe instead of using the establishment’s own toilet and goes in the opposite direction of where the mall toilets were.

“Weirdo.” You fish your phone out of your back and aimlessly scrolled through instagram, liking posts of your favourite celebrities whilst you awaited Sakusa’s return. 

Sakusa Kiyoomi was power-walking to the upper floor where you both began shopping, he looked at the familiar sign of the shop you guys first entered. The workers were bewildered by his return, not judging because they knew he was an odd man.

One of the sales assistants follows him as he walks towards the bag section. “Pack that bag up.” He commanded, his voice demanding and military-like. They heeded by his words silently, their gloved hands grabbing the bag you gawked at awhile ago. 

Sakusa watches impatiently as they wrapped the bag with thin tissue paper then placed it in a white box, he turns his attention to his left wrist, deep prussian blue behind the hands of the clock, brown leather strap, the numbers on the watch were in roman numerals. The watch you gave him was exactly his type, simple but made a proud statement. He loved how he carried a piece of you with this watch, a quiet reminder that you stood by him.

“I apologise for the long wait, here you go.” The wait wasn’t long, Sakusa’s patience just happened to be as thin as the epithelial layer of his heart. He quickly pays and makes his way back to you.

He watches as the smallest hand of the clock moves relentlessly, the space between his steps was already long enough due to his long legs but he widened that gap a little more just to get back to you quicker. He swiftly moves against the crowd of teenagers, their loud chatters nearly deafening his ears.

12 minutes. He was gone for 12 minutes. He spent 6 minutes in that shop, 3 minutes walking towards and 3 minutes walking back. Twenty percent of sixty minutes and something had already happened to you. 

A vein appears in Sakusa’s right temple when he sees you through the glass window, forcing yourself into a conversation with three guys that clearly did not entertain you like he did. 

“I don’t think I see your boyfriend anywhere. He really shouldn’t leave you alone like that.” His tone was condescending, it made your heart hurt of anger– you hated how his eyes seemed to degrade you with just a glance, his gaze lingered with a poorly masked impertinence.

Sakusa rushes to push the glass door open, he wants to remain his composure, he thought he’s polished his patience after all those training camps with Miya Atsumu when he was still in high school but his current state proves him wrong. 

“My boyfriend had a call to make.” You make an excuse for Sakusa, a pair of heavy footsteps looming near which you didn’t even notice. 

He rolls his eyes at you. “He’s been on call for ten minutes?” He looks back at his two friends to gain petty validation. “Don’t lie. Stop being so difficult and come with us already.” He attempts to coax you, well forcing you to be more front. 

Sakusa’s presence lurks behind them, his six foot three stature towering their heights. His voice was deep, snarling slightly, his fist was clenched, the handle of the gift he gripped on so tightly as a displacement of his anger. “She’s not following you anywhere.” The hairs on their necks stand up, necks staggering to look back to see who owned that presence. 

They look up at Sakusa, but only the guy who was impudently sitting across you was the only one to receive his glare. “Babe!” Your heart relaxes when you see him, the worry in your eyes eases when you see him. Sakusa would have loved to bask in the joy of you calling him ‘babe’ but he was presented with a very difficult situation. 

You push yourself out of the table and rush to Sakusa’s side. You only intended to stand beside him, get behind his back cause you started feeling irked by the way those guys watched you. Sakusa was quick to grab you by the waist to bring you closer to him, his side pressed against you. “Were they bothering you?”

You hesitate momentarily, should you escalate the situation or just ignore it? “Yes. Babe they were saying that I couldn't possibly be dating you, telling me you’re a bad boyfriend and all that.” You look at them slyly, fighting off the smirk on your lips, your tone was obviously laced with false sadness and fear– even Sakusa knew that. 

“Hey man we just thought she’d been lying about the whole boyfriend thing you know.” He tries to play off, slipping off the chair carefully with a laugh like he’d step on a landmine.

“You’re calling my girlfriend a liar now?” The guy freezes up. Sakusa’s already onyx eyes darken with his words. 

“No!” He quips. “We’re really sorry about this, let us off this time, hm?” The guy was practically begging Sakusa right now. 

“Apologise.” He halts their escaping figures. Sakusa didn’t care for the authenticity of their forced apologies. He just wanted humiliation, exorcise fear to make them squirm like you did.

“We’re sorry.” They bowed in unification. 

Sakusa wasn’t satisfied with the apology when their main thought in mind was to run away and not humiliation. “Again.”

“We’re truly sorry, L/n-san. We’ll leave you alone from now on.” Their heads were held in place, eyes staring at Sakusa’s leather shoes and your cream-coloured heels, faces burning up in humiliation. They haven’t bowed this deeply since they were five trying to impress family relatives. 

“Kiyoomi, just let them leave.” You plead slightly, Sakusa’s hardened gaze immediately softens, his brows un-creased, the vice-grip on the bag loosening. 

Sakusa heaves a slow, deep breath. “Leave our sight.” Sakusa turns his focus to you once they begin to sprint off to the exit. He holds your shoulder, assessing you from up and down with a worried look like you were gonna die from the bubonic plague. “Did they touch you anywhere?” His heart aches of concern, stomach churning from stress of what could have happened.

You push off his hands with your arms and clasp his calloused hands with your soft touch. “No, don’t worry Kiyoomi.” Don’t comfort him when you were clearly the one in peril, not when your hands were all of a sudden cold-ice when it was borderline summer. 

Sakusa sighs, you were too kind, too sweet, too caring, your own heart didn’t have enough room for yourself. “Don’t tell me that. Don’t comfort me when you’re the one that’s not fine.” So, Sakusa Kiyoomi took it to himself to make up for the care you couldn’t give to yourself and gave so much more. 

You stay silent not knowing what to say. His fingers wound up around yours tightly but not enough to hurt you, just enough to say ‘I’m here, I’ll make it all better.’ Something in your chest uncoils like histones. He’s here. I’m okay now.

Your trust in him was immovable that no waves could trample over, something time couldn’t make fade like statues, his presence was reassuring– something you could fall back on when you stood up for too long. You hated yet loved it at the same time, guilt settled on your heart. 

This was Sakusa Kiyoomi, a man languid to love despite his flirtations. You shouldn’t wish for something more.

You guys both leave the comfort of the patisserie, with hands intertwined together, you rock it gently while you guys walk back to the car park. “Where were you, Omi?” You were interrogative, slightly feeling saddened that he wasn’t there when you needed him.

“Sorry, Y/n. I just wanted to get something for you.” He gives your hand a small squeeze, he didn’t dare meet your eyes– ashamed of his absence. 

“Hm? What is it?” Your ears perk up in curiosity, your sullen mood half-way faded when you heard those magical words. 

He hands you over a large bag, you take a peek inside but only to see a large box. “Open it when you get home.” His cheeks lightly dusted pink, heat gathered from his neck and worked its way upwards. 

“Thank you for the gift, Kiyoomi.” Your sadness dissipates to air, your stomach flipping on itself when the thought of him thinking about you runs through your mind.

Sakusa Kiyoomi, your best friend for two decades, bought you gifts incessantly from designer hairpins from MiuMiu or Prada headbands all the way to exclusive bags from the infamous french luxury brand that comes wrapped with the iconic bright orange boxes. “Thought you’d like this.” He’d always say while he shoves the gift onto your hand, maybe because he had too much money to play around with but it made your heart feel funny. You liked how he thought of you, liked how he cared enough to engrave your preferences and opinions in his mind. 

Sakusa Kiyoomi feels like a tween boy when you utter his name like that, the mellifluous tone entwined with gratefulness for his actions. Mayhaps it was the way you looked at him like you were the happiest person alive, maybe the way his name rolled out of your tongue, could also be the way you would praise him for getting you such an immaculate gift; perhaps, those were some of the reasons he bought all those things for you. 

You were Sakusa’s favourite drug he couldn’t stop taking, his favourite flower he couldn’t stop watering, his favourite book he couldn’t stop reading. You weren’t like his daily habits that he’s already perfected, not like the shirts he’s perfectly arranged in rows in his wardrobe, you were unsteady– the presence he felt subjected to. 

He was used to controlling things around him, his parents and teammates too, every heed was by his until you bombarded his life. You swept him like a wave and led him to whichever direction you were heading too. To Sakusa Kiyoomi, you were the view at the peak of the mountain to which he was sublimed to. 

The day concluded with both of you reaching your respective homes, you begged Sakusa to stay over but he reluctantly declined. His self control has been dwindling lately, if he ever spends that night with you, the volleyball player might just confess and kiss you. 

You sit cross-legged on top of your bed after your shower, the silk pyjama covering your soft skin, you grab Sakusa’s gift, opening it gently as if the box will fall apart on you. Your breath stagnates on your throat, that familiar feeling pooling in your chest again. 

That leather bag you were gawking at awhile ago now in your hands, in your ownership. “Sakusa Kiyoomi, what in the world is wrong with you?” You attempt to compress the curve on your lips but it grows more untamed as the thought swallows you whole– Sakusa Kiyoomi observed you. 

You grab your phone that you had placed on the white nightstand, open the camera, the left bag pressed against your cheek whilst you hold it up, you smile at the camera and take a photo. Your fingers speedily send the photo to ‘Kiyoooooomi’ who opened your message not even a beat later. 

Sakusa smiles, saving the photo to his camera roll, he will most likely save that in an album dedicated to the selfies you’ve sent him. ‘I take it you like it?’

You lay your back flat on your bed then roll to your stomach, elbows propped up against the mattress. ‘Why ask? You already know the answer🙄.’ 

‘Just wanted to make sure you love it.’ Sakusa spins on his chair, throws his head back and stares at the three dots on his screen. 

You reply with no hesitation, not even thinking what you had typed out on the keypad. ‘I’ll love anything you give me.’ 

Sakusa doesn’t know what to reply, his long fingers hesitate to reach out for the alphabet in front of him. You were flirting, right? ‘If I give you a ring, would you like it?’ Fuck it. He swallows his momentary cowardice.

You wanted to scream. You had to scream or you'd burst. You plant your face on the mattress and yell incoherent sounds. After a good few seconds of yelling, you lift your face up and begin tapping your fingers on the screen. ‘Who knows? Give it a try and let’s see.’

Sakusa types out a message and deletes it again, he does that again and again for a few more times. ‘Go to bed.’ He concludes the conversation otherwise he might end up truly proposing to you. You were truly an innocent vixen. 

Wednesday came, you and Sakusa usually came to school together on Wednesday because your classes started at the same hour. “Sorry about the wait. Couldn’t find my damn textbook.” You say as you slid on the black leather seat of the vehicle, closing the car door after you entered. 

“No worries.” He says coolly. He admires you for quite some time, breathing in your scent that hung on the air inside the car, your coffee coloured houndstooth bouclé skirt that ended midway your thighs, sable coloured cotton, long-sleeved top that hugged you tightly but not in an uncomfortable way. 

You place your handbag on top of your legs and textbook on the space between you and Sakusa. You guys both sit in the comfortable silence during the whole ride, Sakusa occasionally stealing glances at you, your head pressed against the glass. 

When you guys arrived at campus, you rushed out of the car with a quick “Bye, Omi!” He watches as your silhouette slowly faded from his sight. Sakusa places one foot out of the car then the other, his large stature exiting the car with a slight struggle, when he was about to push the car door close he sees something on the seat. A thick textbook, hardback cover with a blue paper sleeve, titled ‘Quantum Physics.’ Sakusa inwardly fist pumps, as he finds a reason to get to you. 

He swings the car door open and carries the heavy book in his hands, judging you silently for your tastes in subject. He’d always been an Organic Chemistry guy, hated Physics and its stupid Newton’s laws or whatever and couldn’t care less about the difference between scalar or vector quantities. 

He takes long strides to your building which was on the west wing of the campus, the building was just next to his so he wouldn’t even be late if he took the book to you. People look at him as he walks by, it was hard not to look at when he was on the front page of the university’s magazine and the face they’d show off in pamphlets. 

Sakusa’s internal monologue was running on 50 engines, why was he nervous you may ask? He’d been dreaming about marrying for the past two nights and the dream always ended with him not slipping the ring on your finger. What if that dream was a prophecy? That can’t be, right? 

This resulted in Sakusa’s team suffering, he was just new on the MSBY Black Jackals roster and he’s already giving them a hard time by giving spikes that could send someone straight to paradise. Miya Atsumu was the very subject of the harassment, then Bokuto Koutarou was next but hey! If they can handle his spikes, they can surely face Schweiden Adlers with no troubles. 

He reaches your lecture hall, his hands pushing against the oak door, he spots you immediately in the sea of faceless heads. He could tell by the way your hair laid on your back, the way your body positioned itself on the seat, it wasn’t that hard to spot you at all. He walks down towards where you were, people muttering wondering why he was in the lecture hall when his class was clearly on the other building. 

You didn’t hear his heavy footsteps, didn’t notice his presence until your friend stopped her sentence midway and looked up at something behind your back. You turn to see Sakusa Kiyoomi, your supposed boyfriend. “You left the book in the car.” He states plainly.

“Oh thanks babe!” You say, giving Sakusa that look, reminding him of the favour. 

“You really shouldn’t forget. What could have happened had I not noticed?” He reprimands you in a genuine gentle manner that no one ever thought Sakusa could do. When people bumped into him, he’d say ‘watch it’ or click his tongue in annoyance. 

Sakusa exhales, his eyes seemed dull towards other people but you know that wasn’t the case. “Thank gosh you were there then.” You beamed a smile at your “boyfriend.” He picks up the cue immediately but unsure of what you wanted him to do. 

He pulls down his black mask just enough to expose his lips. He leaned down to your face, pressed his damp lips on your right cheek which you acted like that was the most casual thing you’ve gotten used to. “I’ll see you later then.”

Everyone’s jaws slacken like their face muscles were of no use, your lips had an awkward curve no one could notice but Sakusa. “Yeah, see you.” You manage to make out despite the invisible object lodged on your throat.

He leaves you astounded just like everyone else. Your friend was hitting on your shoulder, stifling her giggles but was poorly uncontained. “YOU WEREN’T LYING?” She whisper-yells, rocking your shoulders fervently. 

Unbeknownst to you, the raven haired man with matching sable eyes had his heart thrumming because of you, the soft plush of your cheeks remained on his lips, he chewed on his bottom lip— striving to push away the thought of what your lips would feel like. 

Lunch time was not any better. Komori sat in the empty space left of his cousin, rambling about the teacher assistant he had for his Sport Science class, saying something about “talking too much” or “being too strict” but those words came out of Sakusa’s ear at the same rate it went in. 

“Sakusa, what the hell’s wrong with you?” Komori hisses, he’s used to his cousin’s behaviour but will forever hate the feeling of being ignored by him.

Sakusa watches you, tucking your hair behind your ear whilst you were speaking to that guy who could possibly be from your class. He breaks his glare. “Huh?” He grumbles, clicking his tongue at his cousin and nearly rolls his eyes at him. “What?” He says sharply, his words obviously translating: Don’t actually say anything, I don’t care.

Komori says heavily, pokes on the food in front of him, “Maybe if you’d confessed, nothing like that would happen.” Komori says with a hum, a sing-song tone that rubbed on every single nerve of Sakusa Kiyoomi. 

“Shut up. Besides, I’m her boyfriend.” Komori dramatically drops his chopsticks on his tray, bouncing off to the table which Sakusa squirms at the sight of.

“SINCE WHEN?” Komori slams his hands down onto the table, garnering the attention of those who sat around them. 

“Sunday.”

“WHAT? WHY?” Sakusa looks at him, offended by his question. 

“She asked me to be her fake boyfriend.” He clears up the cloud. 

Komori’s heart settles back in place, almost relieved by the news. You were up for a ride if you were to date his cousin. “Just a fake. You should have mentioned that first.” He descants. 

Sakusa’s eyes magnetise towards you again, the guy was obviously into you and making moves but you couldn’t pick up the signals. Of course you couldn’t. He’s been loud and clear ever since his teenage hormones exploded but you never picked it up. It was a funny sight to watch the guy struggle but nothing was truly amusing when someone was trying to take the very jewel he’s had his eyes on. “I don’t care.” He pushes himself against the table, standing up from the hard seat. “That’s gonna change soon anyways.” 

Sakusa walks up to you two with intent, placing his hand on your right shoulder causing you to jolt up a bit. “Baby, hurry up and come sit. I’m hungry.” His tone was commanding but soft and patient. 

“Oh Omi, sorry about that.” You quickly dismiss yourself from the conversation you were having, Sakusa smirks so hard that not even his mask could veil it. 

Sakusa carries your bag for you, the leather strap on his shoulders so that you could carry your food comfortably. Heading off to the table where he had left Komori by himself, your backs turned to the guy, Sakusa twists his neck back and looks at the guy with the look that screamed, ‘I win.’ He could almost laugh watching that disdained look on the guy’s face. 

No one in this world could handle you, too great and too precious for everyone else, Sakusa Kiyoomi knew only his hands were large and gentle enough to make sure you were treasured. 

Sakusa with his free hand, places his palm on your back, just where your shoulder blade was which you didn’t even notice and gives your back a small frisk with his thumb. This was Sakusa Kiyoomi practically declaring his love for you in front of an audience of university students. 

“Thanks for carrying my bag Omi.” You chirp. He untucks your chair for you and slides it in when you have positioned yourself comfortably, an act he’s always done for you—something menial, a habit, that both slipped your minds. To him and to you, this was just him being him. Perhaps, serving you was encoded in his DNA. 

“Talk about casual.” Komori mutters under his breath, sneaking away from your ears and Sakusa’s. 

Sakusa sat on his seat and began eating his food after you’d touched yours. His tray was picked with your favourite food just so he could give it to you because he knows you’d want some more. He places pieces of meat on your rice bowl, you look at him bemused. He feels your gaze but does not look up from his tray. After not reciprocating your eye contact, you get back to enjoying your lunch pretending to be passive of what he just did. 

Your chopsticks pick up the umeboshi sitting on the very smallest rectangle of your metal tray and place it on Sakusa’s tray where his umeboshi was piled up, you place each Umeboshi one by one without looking at him too. You’ve always done this. You weren’t too sure why. 

“Fake dating, they say.” This time was picked up by Sakusa who throws him a glare, Komori raises his hands in the air and his lips form a downwards curve.

“Motoya-kun, I heard the TA in your class was bad today.” You begin talking to his cousin, Sakusa listens to the conversation not daring to join in because he truly couldn’t care about the damn T.A.

His cousin goes on but his words slips his attention, only watching his favourite view from his uncomfortable seat. He listens to you laugh at Komori’s stupid jokes, some people may think your cheeks warms too easily but Sakusa doesn’t think so; you just happen to appreciate every single thing that makes you smile. Also, you loved Komori’s shitty jokes. 

Sakusa gets up from his seat, wordlessly, walks up to the freezer to grab some ice cream for you three— well his intention was mainly for you. He grabs your favourite flavour of the frozen treat like clockwork, takes vanilla for himself as he enjoyed the clean flavour that didn’t overwhelm his tongue, and takes whatever for his cousin.

He walks back and places the small tubs in front of you guys, but he opens yours for you. People in the canteen who took notice whispered amongst themselves, nudging their friends and telling them to “look at Sakusa and L/n.” Sakusa paid no mind. 

“Thank you babe.” You say out loud in a normal volume, but exaggerated the petname to highlight your faux relationship status. Sakusa replies with a hum, ignoring the way his heart fluttered with the way the endearment rolled off your tongue. 

Your hands begin its work, the wooden spoon nearly breaking at the hardened cream but you manage to successfully get a decent scoop after five attempts. Sakusa and Komori digs their ice cream with ease, Komori giving a snide comment of how much you were struggling. “Did they put this in liquid nitrogen or something?” Your annoyance gets the best of you.

Sakusa shovels a huge chunk of his ice cream onto his spoon, he lifts it up to your face and waits for your mouth to open. You opened your mouth and heavily appreciated the gesture by showing a pleased look on your face.“Ohhh this brand of vanilla ice cream is amazing.” 

Sakusa grabs another scoop, now for himself and places it in his mouth, pleased with the impeccable choice of his taste buds. “Want some more?” He asked, even if you were to say ‘no’ he would probably force it in your mouth anyways. 

Komori Motoya, libero of EJP Raijin had his jaw wide open, wider than the distance across one end of Asia to another. His cousin, Sakusa Kiyoomii not only shared his food but also fed someone with the same spoon. Sakusa had always been cautious, he didn’t dare take risks when it came to things that would compromise his health. Sakusa Kiyoomi never even caught chicken pox as a kid. Saliva was one of the biggest transmitters of pathogens and he willingly took that risk for you. He knew his cousin was madly in love with you, but to that degree? Even Komori could not have predicted such an oracle. 

“Damn. You’re crazy.” Komori says out of blue which both gained bemused faces from you two. 

The evening arrived for the charity gala. You were sitting in front of your vanity, the bright light illuminating your face and casting away any shadows that dared to settle on your face. A gentle knock raps on your door, “It’s me.” You hear a deep voice, slightly muffled by the door. There was only one person it could be. 

You get up from your white chair hastily and open the door for Sakusa, your makeup only missing your signature lipstick. You were still in your silk robe, the length just falling between your thighs, Sakusa didn’t dare look down at your figure. One, because he respected you. Two, because he might genuinely break the years of self-control he’s had. 

“Am I late, or are you early?” You ask as you turn to the clock in your bedroom. “You’re twenty minutes early Omi.” You say after you read the time.

“I was bored, so I rushed to come here.” He explains himself as if that was a normal thing to do. You nodded your head, brushing away his antics and decided to return to the vanity to apply your lipstick. 

He settles himself on the couch in your bedroom, making himself comfortable on the cream cushion and watches you by your reflection on the mirror. You really shouldn’t be letting a man in when you’re getting ready, you looked too decadent not to devour. 

You went into your 150 metre squared walk-in-closet and removed your robe, placing it on top of the clear glass drawer where your jewellery was. You slip on your dress, admiring the way the colour looked on your skin and how the dress showed off everything you wanted to show. You struggle to zip up your dress, your fingers failing to provide proper strength needed to pull the small piece of metal.

“Kiyoomi!” Sakusa jolts from the calling of his name.

“Yes?’ He replied loud enough for you to hear.

“Come in here and help me zip my dress!” He could hear the frustration in your voice, he followed your command with no complaints. 

He opens the door to your closet and sees you with your arms to your side, zip halfway done exposing your face, you hold the dress up on your chest— careful not to show him anything. “Thank you, Omi.” You say, slight bitterness still remains on your tongue.

“Hmm, no problem baby.” He responds in his deep baritone voice. His hands were shaking, a complete contrast to his built up confidence.

There was something about the way Sakusa followed whatever you said that made your body squirm uncomfortably in a good way, you liked it. He abided by you like you were law, like it would break his moral compass to not follow you. He was always so careful with you, how were you not to fall in love with him. 

His cold, slender fingers frisk your back as he holds the top end of the fabric, his eyes laser-focused on your bare nape that enticed him— he takes control of his chest, the beat of his heart muscles pounding on his ribs, his chest rises forcibly slowly. 

You, on the other hand, was fighting the ID that screamed for you to ask him to hold you. Let his hands linger around you more than friends should, maybe profess your love to him at this very second. You try hard not to look at his hardened jaw in the mirror, the way his brows were partially creased, the black blazer tight on his shoulders, his vest embracing his tiny waist like cling film on a plate, his Adam's apple situated on his neck. 

Perhaps you could have zipped your own dress by yourself, struggled a few seconds more and you would have definitely managed on your own but Sakusa Kiyoomi was in your bedroom. The man who submitted to you, the man who loved favours from you. Wasn’t it the wisest choice to call out to him? 

The zipper is pulled taut. “There you go.” His voice rasps, nearly breaking into a croak. 

You both untensed after the long awaited zip that took only 7 seconds. “Kiyoomi, help me pick jewelleries.” You open your drawer, shifting the focus on something else other than the mutual tension of yearning that happened just a moment ago.

Sakusa walks with you to your drawer, his eyes scanning the multitude of yellow gold or white gold chained necklaces in your drawer, each of them adorned with emeralds, rubies, sapphires or diamonds, and a few pearl chains here and there. “How about this one?” He points at a white gold chained necklace, the centre piece being a tear-drop cut of sapphire, the chain had an alternating pattern of flowers of diamonds that glimmered under the warm light of your closet.

“Oh I like that. Wasn’t that your birthday gift for me last year?” You recall how you pressed a dampened kiss on his cheek when you opened the square box with velvet texture when you opened it. 

Sakusa knew that of course. “Yeah, it was.” 

“You just wanna show off what you gave me.” You tease.

“Think however you want.” You weren’t too wrong about what you said. So, Sakusa doesn’t fight back on your tease. What better statement was there to say you were for no one else but him than have you wearing the jewellery passed down the Sakusa family line that everyone knew of. 

You were about to pick up the heavy necklace but Sakusa gets to it first. He holds the necklace in his hands, he looks at you with a beseeching gaze. “Let me put it on you, please.” 

Who could possibly say no to that? “Sure.” 

You both walk back to the tall mirror, to see how it would look on you, Sakusa lays the jewellery on top of your skin and makes eye-contact to ask for your re-affirmation that you wanted this necklace. You nod at him, giving him the ‘go’ signal. He clasps the necklace, struggling slightly because his fingers were thick— slightly calloused from the years of volleyball that not even high-quality hand creams could prevent. 

You both meet eye to eye in the mirror, Sakusa’s gaze was heavy, cleaves on your skin wherever it travelled. He returns his eyes to you, his large hands touches your ribcage and slides it down to your waist and stays there. His hands clutched on your waist, giving it a gentle knead whilst you both looked at each other eye to eye. His thumbs stroke your clothed skin. He leans down, not breaking eye contact and kisses your shoulder causing your chest to rise up rapidly. He places another peck, now on your collarbone, and another one on the base of your neck. 

“Omi.” You mewl. 

His lips remain on your neck, “Hmm?” vibrating against your soft skin when he hummed. He gives it more kisses, his slick saliva leaving small imprints on your skin before it evaporates to air. 

“We’re gonna be late.” You say, resisting the desire to let this take a step further.

“I know.” Your eyes blink rapidly, the eye contact being too heavy for your heart. The way your back was pressed against his, his chest spreading the heat to your body was all too much. “Look at me.” Kiyoomi was never to ask favours from you, but this will be one of the moments he’ll ask for it. 

Your lids struggle to remain open, this position, this proximity, this new profound feeling made it all too much for you. “I’m your boyfriend for the night aren’t I? Isn’t this what boyfriends do to their girlfriends?” This time his lips latch on to your neck, giving it a gentle suck to make sure it wouldn’t bruise, he wasn’t that crazy. Your hands on his lower forearm, just to find somewhere to touch him.

“You’ll let me have this, right?” You couldn’t say no, because you wanted this too. You give him a nod, giving him permission to go on further. “This is a little practice, just to close distance a bit, ease ourselves into our y’know— relationship.” He moves his hands, now in the space just below your breasts, the thumbs just pressed up against your bosom. “Just to make sure we’re not so awkward in front of everyone, you know what I mean right, baby?” 

“Yes, of course, Kiyoomi.” You say whilst drawing a breath out. To Sakusa Kiyoomi, this was him being in control of his urges, repressing what his hormones wanted. However, if you utter his name in that sultry tone again you guys just might not make it to the gala. 

“Omiii.” Your voice drags out, he can feel your ribs rise up and down fast from each suck he gave. “We’re really gonna be late.” As much as you wanted this, you guys couldn’t be late. Sakusa unlatches himself from you, his gaze darkened, his hands remain on you, your eyes now fully open and connected to his stare. 

“Now we’re prepared.” He says with a grin, he pulls you back closer to his chest, palms on your body. “We look so good together.” You look at the two of you, perfectly cladded in expensive fabrics and jewellery, well-refined as an outcome of all your etiquette lessons. Sakusa holds you tighter, presses you onto him. “Look at us, we’re so perfect together.” He rasps against your ear, hot air blowing onto you.

You both leave your closet, the air heavy and thick between you two, desire clinging onto the air.

When you both arrived at the gala, you people amongst your age and your parents who arrived before you two. “Kiyoomi, you look sophisticated in that suit.” Your father compliments as he gives Sakusa firm handshake.

“Thank you, L/n-san.” He replies, not with a smile on his face but your father understood what kind of man Sakusa was. 

“Dear, you look amazing on that dress.” Your mother comments, giving you a hug when he says it. “My, is that the necklace Kiyoomi-kun gave?” Your mother places a hand over her lips as a gasp escapes her.

“Yeah.” You reply, your finger tips brushing against the necklace. 

“It’s dashing, really.” Your mother further comments causing Sakusa’s chest to swell with pride. The pride doesn’t escape your father’s watchful gaze, he was all too familiar with that look, after all he was like that ever since he fell in love with your mother.

“Honey, we need to get going.” Your father reminds her. They both walk away after telling you both to enjoy the evening. 

Sakusa holds you by the waist as you walk around the banquet hall, your heels clicking against the floors, you both wander around aimlessly just to brag about how you both have each other. Komori spots you both from a distance and pushes past the crowd to reach you two. 

When he sees you two, wrapped around each other like a koala on trees, he quirks a brow at his cousin, giving him the look ‘congrats on making a move.’ “Hey, lovebirds.” Komori leans his elbow on Sakusa’s shoulder, struggling slightly due to the few inches of difference between them. 

“What do you want?” Sakusa grumbles, perturbed by Motoya’s presence. 

“Woah there bull-dog, just came here to say your mom’s looking for you.” Motoya bobs his head in the direction where Sakusa’s mom was. 

“What does she want?” Sakusa loves his mother, he truly does, he appreciates how much she understood his need for privacy and order but when it came to ruining good times, his mother happened to top that. 

“Dunno.” Komori shrugs his shoulders and averts his attention to you. 

“Y/n-chan, do you wanna come and grab some champagne with me?” Komori gives you a sweet smile, fluttering his long brown lashes at you like a puppy. 

“Sure, why not.” You unlink your arm with Sakusa which caused him to frown. 

Komori offers his arm to you as a replacement for his cousin which you gladly accepted, not thinking much of it. Komori gives Sakusa a teasing smirk, his cousin emitting a dangerous aura which made Komori smirk even further. 

Sakusa grabs your forearm, stopping you from leaving with his cousin. “I’ll be back.” What was sweet, reassuring words to you was a threat to Komori who was stepping on his nerves.

“Don’t.” Komori says quietly. Invoking Kiyoomi’s wrath was funny, but enduring the consequences were tragic. Komori walks away with you to the champagne tower, half amused and half mortified. 

Sakusa heads off and settles a conversation with his mother, a girl his age standing next to his mother. He knew exactly what this was. Although his mother partially approved of you, she also knew there could also be a better fit for him. 

The girl had long straight black hair, dark brown eyes, heavy pearls on her neck and an emerald coloured dress. She was compliant, but clearly uninterested in him. Pitiful, he thinks. She was clearly the type to be subservient to her parents desires. 

“This is Ishizawa Mayuri, a daughter of the Ishizawa Holdings.” She gives him a court bow, passive, too uncaring but Sakusa doesn’t find it disrespectful or whatever after all he expressed mutual feelings.

“It’s nice to meet you, Sakusa-san.” Her tone bone dry, not even pretending to put up a show in front of their parents. 

“Likewise.” He returns the same energy, not bitter— just the same. 

They both exchanged meaningless chats, business talk mostly, not daring to cross a personal boundary they both set. 

You observe from afar, champagne on your right hand, slight burn on your throat each time you take a sip. Jealousy? Could be. No, you weren’t jealous. You were a dignified woman who couldn’t care for such things, you didn’t have that much time on your hands to be caring about someone who wasn’t even your boyfriend. 

“Easy on the champagne, Y/n.” Komori comments after you finish your third glass. 

“Whatever.”

“Sakusa is rubbing off on you.” He shakes his head. Komori leaves you to go to the toilet and tells you he’ll be back in a few.

You were a sweet girl, just like caramel. You greet random strangers on the street, make conversations with the cashier as they scan your items and give your umbrella to your friends when they don't have theirs. You never felt such green feelings. You swear you never did. You and Sakusa weren’t dating, you guys were just friends. So why was it that you felt a bubbling resentment towards Sakusa when you watched the scene far from you?

He can’t do that. He can’t hold you like you were his. He can’t place his lips on your skin like you were his. He can’t look at you like that, can’t speak to you like that, can’t care for you like that if he doesn’t like you. Can you be mad at him? Act like you never wanted him in the first place? Act like he didn’t make you feel all those feelings in your chest right now? 

No, you can’t. Not when he’s the only man who understands your days of silence. Not when he’s the only man who keeps you up nights, legs kicking on the bed. Not when he’s the only man who loves your independence and your drive for success. Not when he’s Sakusa Kiyoomi, that man you’ve loved since you were fifteen. 

Sakusa finally leaves his conversation with the girl, ending with a polite nod to each other and heading off far from each other. He walks back to you. Of course, where else shall his feet take him? You ignore his presence, albeit forced. “What’s wrong, baby?” He grabs your hand and brushes his thumb on the back of your palms. 

You huff. Perhaps he was doing this because your friends were watching, just on the round table next to yours. “Nothing.” He doesn’t believe such an obvious lie. 

Sakusa Kiyoomi was clingy, something he’s only shown you but you never seemed to notice it was only for you. “Are you mad at me?” He brings your palm to his face, cupping his face with your hands, his warm silk skin you just wanted to caress but you fight the desire to do so. “Don’t ignore me, please.” Your friends on the table next to yours giggle. They knew you were made of iron. 

“Omi, I’m not ignoring you. I swear.” Your body language says otherwise, your posture shifted away from him, not even looking at him while speaking. You were just staring at your father who was about to start his speech on his gratitude for his business partners. 

Sakusa wants to pry, maybe get on his knees to hook your attention away from that cold glass on your hands and off your father but he doesn’t do anything more. He’s cautious, calculative, and careful. Prying you any further will definitely just push you away and he wasn’t going to risk that. He can’t.

An uncomfortable silence sits between you two, your presence froze his skin, he wasn’t used to this. You weren’t used to this. You blame him. It was his fault. He’d spoiled you of his attention, and made it all seem like it was just for you and now he was sharing that to someone else? How preposterous. 

Sakusa lets go of your hand, pulls you closer to him by throwing his arm around you and his hand gripping on your shoulder. This was familiarity, something Sakusa Kiyoomi always does when you’re upset, stroke your shoulder, press his side on you. He won’t let you leave upset, if you had something on your mind then you must speak it. Bottling what needs to be said does neither of you good. 

Some of your family friends come over to the table, disrupting the still air between you two which clearly shifts you and Sakusa closer together, closing the tiniest gap between you two. They weren’t truly friends, the type of people you work with because they bring good money, the type of people that will whisper behind your back to ridicule your tiniest mistake, the type of people you put up a forced smile with. 

Sakusa knew of them though barely, but he knew your body language to ignore the way you placed the champagne glass down with a slight slam, the way your eyes squeezed too tightly while giving a performative smile. He knew you too well. 

There were two girls, two boys, each of them cladded in heavy jewellery, flaunting their disgusting wealth. “I didn’t know Sakusa Kiyoomi was the boyfriend you spoke of.” The guy spoke, a rotten grin on his face that nearly made Sakusa break his inner balance of good and evil. “You don’t seem well-suited for him.” The thin thread of patience inside Sakusa snaps.

He removes his hands away from you, ready to speak, maybe throw a vacuous punch too but you stop him. Your long nails forming crescent marks on his wrist. He looks at you, any unspoken feelings awhile ago long faded by this second, you were calm. Too calm. Your smile grows. “Is that so? I mean, I don’t think there’s anyone more befitting for him than me.” You just laugh, it was a laugh of mockery, a laugh to their feeble intelligence. A vein pops to the guy’s head, jaw tightened from what you said. 

“This can’t be just some show, right?” The girl says, her arms crossed, brow raised with an amused look on her face. 

“Believe what you will. I’ve no intention to entertain you.” You simply say provoking them further. If there was something Sakusa Kiyoomi knew about you, it was your art of provocation and humiliation, nothing appeased you more than ferocious looks from others. 

One of the girls was Sakusa’s former fiancée, well– an arranged fiancée but the volleyball player decided so much against it that he threatened to sell the business plans to the opposing companies. She was bitter, she didn’t care about not having Sakusa Kiyoomi even though she desired him, but the fact that he threatened his own family just to not get engaged to her was the epitome of humiliation. She was the centre of jest in high-society for months for that. Everyone was talking about how L/n Y/n had him on a leash. 

You grab the glass of champagne that was clearly Sakusa’s and take a sip from his glass, your lipstick leaving a mark on the crystal glass. You hold the glass up, and just like clockwork, Sakusa takes it from your hands like a butler and a mistress. He drinks from his glass, directly where you had left the print of your lips. 

Fake dating or not, Sakusa Kiyoomi was fucking crazy. He would have never done that, not to anyone. To them, he was making a statement. To you, he was bragging about something non-existent. To him, you were already his. What else could have that scene in the closet meant? Friends with benefits? No way, that’s too improper and crass for Kiyoomi. It was just his roundabout way of saying, ‘I like you, I want you.’

You scratch the skin on your neck, compelling their gazes on the necklace that hung heavily on your neck. A quiet grin of victory on your lips. “Gosh, this necklace is heavy. I told Omi he should stop giving me such heavy jewellery, it drags the neck down. If you know what I mean.” 

The girls bite their lips hard, stopping themselves from calling you a ‘showoff’ or ‘improper’ but their tongues twisted on itself out of jealousy. Sakusa Kiyoomi did not just make you his girlfriend, he wholly gave you the title of future wife of Sakusa Kiyoomi. “Ah…ha…ha.” They force out a laugh, not knowing how to climb up from humiliation. “It’s beautiful.” They say as the muscles around their mouths strain. 

Sakusa drinks from his glass, tongue embracing the taste of the expensive champagne in his mouth. “It would be improper to give you any jewellery less precious than that.” He states simply like it was a fact, not forcing sugar on his tongue. He wasn’t playing along with you. He was just stating the truth from his book of law. 

“You’re such a sweet, Omi.” You lightly giggle, giving his shoulder a gentle slap then a slow rub. He doesn’t move away from your touch like he does with everyone, he leans to it, looks for it. He doesn’t overtly show it, but he relishes this feeling from this opportunistic event, his eyes soften ever so slightly. 

“We’ll leave you guys then.” They force another smile, the sweet caramel on their tongues they couldn’t swallow. 

“That would be a pleasure.” Sakusa says in a low tone but loud enough for them to hear. He wasn’t one to sugarcoat his words, he didn’t hide his knife behind a shield but sheathed it bare in the air. 

Sakusa’s presence cuts the stale air, replacing it with a threatening one. He stares down at them, “Don’t pester us again.” He says coldly. They walk away, forcing their necks up high, biting down their pride and swallowing the shame. 

You unlatched yourself from Sakusa once they left, you expected him to feel more comfortable being away from your touch but he wasn’t. He was queasy, and felt disgusting without you. The animosity returns and you walk away from him, hiding your green feelings— ashamed to feel such a way when you guys weren’t even together.

Your heels click onto the marbled tiles, Sakusa follows from behind wordlessly but panicked. He didn’t know what he had done to upset you, he wasn’t used to your forced silence and he doesn’t want to get used to it. He didn’t want to hurt you by grabbing your wrist, so he tugs on to your forearm so gently that you could slip away without effort. 

You grab your arm away from him and push open the glass doors of the balcony, he still follows you like a duckling. He closes the door behind him, your cold shoulder scares him, your silence bit harder than stray dogs, poisoned deadlier than venom. “Talk to me, Y/n.” Sakusa could never command you, he could only beg you. Your back facing him, elbows leaned against the veranda whilst gazing at the water fountain down below.

You harshly turn around, he expected your ferocity but met him with tear-sodden eyes instead. “Don’t talk to me like that.” Sakusa takes a small step forward, you straighten yourself, pupils shaking as you speak to him. “Why do you treat me like that?” 

“Like what, Y/n?” The anticipation was choking him. 

“Like you like me.” Sakusa’s heart nearly stopped. God you were so dense. “Why do you treat me like you want me? Hold me like you want me. Spoil me like you want me.” You were rambling, looking away in between your words; your repertoire when you were overwhelmed. 

Sakusa takes a few more steps forward, cups your face with his right hand, brushing away the tear that fell from your eye. “Why do you look at me like you love me?” You met his eyes. “Don’t treat me like this when you don’t even want me.” But you don’t back away from his touch, somewhere in your heart you knew this was your repose. “Kiyoomi, please don’t confuse me.”

What could have possibly bemused you? Sakusa asks himself. He was sure he was clear. He was your man. He desired to be yours. He’d shower you with his affections, think of you while he was in a different country and buy souvenirs of things he knows you’d like. Every hard work he poured into his career was not just for him but for you too, he made smarter financial investments just so he could retire earlier for you. Don’t you get it? He has always been yours.

“You’re so dense.” He says brusquely that he almost sighs. “Do you think I let other women touch me? Do you think I let other women enter my bedroom? Do you think I buy other women dresses or bags?” Kiyoomi wants to kiss you, pour his love into you but he can’t. Not yet. 

“I’ve loved you longer than I’ve loved myself. No, actually, you made me love myself.” To say you were stunned was an understatement, it was like someone knocked the wind out of your lungs, perhaps there was no more oxygen in the air. Sakusa Kiyoomi speaking about him was not just rare, it never occurred. 

“I love you so much that my heart aches without you, my days feel out of order without you. I hate being without you. I hate it when you can’t come to my games cause you have exams. I hate it when you’re sick because you make me worry. I hate it when you come home late at night cause what if there’s some weirdo. I hate it that you make me worry. I’ve never worried about anything, not anyone. Just you.” Kiyoomi presses his forehead against you, his breath against your lips. You grip the wrist of the hand that was touching your face, not tightly but just there. 

“So when you ask me why I do all those things, why I look at you like you are my everything. That’s because you are. I only let you order me, Y/n, just you.” Sakusa Kiyoomi was mad, madly in love with you. “So, yes. I love you.” He breathes out, his lips brushing against you. 

“You’re supposed to kiss me now, you weirdo.” He takes that as permission to press his lips on you, a simple peck turning to something else, mouth opening slowly to take it a step further. His lips were soft, slow, indulging. He sucked on your lips like a hardened caramel sweet, his hot muscle painting your lower lip but you tame him, forcing him to be slower. 

His left palm pressed on your lower back, his other hand still touching your face. Sakusa savoured you, swallowed your breaths, his heart in his ears, your hand tugging on his tie— pulling him down like he was on a leash. Was it crazy for him to say that he loved it?

You pull away from him, but your grip remains on his black tie, “I love you too, Omi.” You finally say. Sakusa could die happy now, his feet felt like they weren’t even touching anymore. The moon glistened on your face, contouring your face with shadows, the noise of water falling from the water fountain down below, this was perfect. You were perfect.

“Say it again, please.” He begs, voice cracking, you giggle at his words, a melodious sound to Sakusa’s ears. 

“I love you, Omi. I love you a lot.” The warmth envelopes you two, replacing the cold midsummer night breeze, something within you two knew this was the beginning of everything. Perhaps destinies were written, perhaps there was a divine being up above that brought you two together because this was what Kiyoomi ever wished for.

The moonlight illuminates you two, your sapphire earrings twinkling from the gentle gleam of light, your lips, lashes and eyes, they all carried your grace. Sakusa Kiyoomi felt star-struck, he’s been falling for this beauty every day and he’s never got tired of it. He doesn’t think he ever will. 

The stars aligned themselves, red strings threaded tightly, the earth spun at perfect angle and acceleration, you both belonged in the same universe in the same lifetime, lived under the same skies and breathed the same air. If this was not fate then what was it? 

Perhaps it was all by chance, a stroke of luck that you were the girl that moved next door. Whatever it is that brought you two together, Sakusa Kiyoomi will thank whatever force that was because this was the biggest blessing, the greatest gift the heavens bestowed him. Talent, money, looks…etcetera, were nothing compared to you— his only jewel, his very treasure.

This nocturne not even Van Gogh could replicate. This was everything. If he had used up all of his luck in the world to have you, he wouldn’t trade that for anything, wouldn’t regret it one bit.

 “I love you, Y/n. I love you more than anything.” You press your face on his chest, hiding from the stars and moon. He caresses your head, places his head on top of yours, his curly locks tickling your forehead. You clutch the fabric on his chest, roll your face to the left and press your ear on his chest, you hear his heart that seemingly beats only for you. 

Today, Kageyama’s feet found itself in a smaller gym, the hardwood floor hardly properly polished with wax, the balls smacking the ground were softer unlike the usual booming noise that he’d hear everyday in practice. He was at an elementary school’s gym as a guest for kids as requested by Kuroo Tetsurou. 

The kids looked at him with awe, jaws slackened when they saw the six foot 2 man enter the gym, the face they’d only seen on TV was really right in front of them. However, there was one kid who looked less surprised to see him there, had black hair like him, had a nose like yours, skin like yours, lips like yours but his eyes were still widened. Kageyama Tobio softly smiles seeing the boy, your familiarity written all over the boy’s features.

Kageyama was showing the kids the proper form of how to spike, receive, or block a volleyball which they clumsily followed with their smaller bodies. Hachiro, the boy who carried you followed better than everyone else but still sloppy as he was a small child. Hachiro, born in Tokyo General Hospital, on the eighth of November thus why he’s called ‘Hachiro.’ He remembers that day better than anyone, the news of your delivery which caused him to halt his practice immediately, his heart nearly bursts when he heard of the news– a feeling he’d never erase from his heart.

He recalls your white dress on your wedding day, the sheer veil over your head, the long trail of the dress dragging behind you as you trudged down the aisle. Him in a black suit watching, waiting as you reached the other end of the aisle, his hands clammy and cold. When you said ‘I do’ in front of the crowd, your parents emerged in happiness. The moment was in slo-mo, he remembers the bold red colour of the carpet you walked on, the petals thrown all over you once the officiator was done announcing your successful marriage. Kageyama Tobio found you ethereal no matter what colour you wore, but white truly suited you more than anything. 

He remembers holding Hachiro for the first time, his hair thick for a kid no more than a year old. His whole fist wrapped around his one finger, Tobio’s heart melted like butter on a scorching pan, it felt nice. He remembers watching you carry Hachiro in your arms, cooing him gently whilst patting his small back to make him take his nap time before he gets too cranky. It was the most beautiful sight ever. 

“Hachiro, fix your arms, put them closer together.” He says strictly, he may love this kid but that can’t distract him from the kid’s form. 

He remembers the day you first met, a girl from Tsukishima’s class asking to borrow Tsukishima’s notes because she was sick the day before. You entered the gym, your beauty stunning him quite literally because a ball hit face when he was supposed to set it to the ginger-head middle blocker. There was a dramatic effect of a bluster hitting your face–blowing your hair slightly, your lips plump and glossy. You were the epitome of teenage beauty. 

He remembers the day he first talked to you. You were asking where Tsukishima was again because he borrowed the Japanese novel you were analysing in class. “Uh- he’s uhm getting water right now.” He stuttered so much that Hinata and Tanaka were teasing him at the very moment.

“Oh, thank you.” You replied, blase to his stumbling self. Gosh you were so cool. 

He remembers when he asked Tsukishima to have your number, his pride was even lower than hell but he had to do it. Tsukishima and Yamaguchi bullied him for a whole month, imitating your voice in the gym lockers just to piss him off. Unfortunately, they were successful each time. 

He reminisced his younger days with you, the days where he spent more time with you; the after-school snack at the Sakanoshita market, you always got the red-bean paste dorayaki from the fridge and a bottle of coconut water, he’d get two pork buns cause even when you say you don’t want any, you’ll always change your mind when you see him eating it. 

It was a long talking stage because he was scared to commit, and you weren’t the type to chase a guy. Your mother always said that a man who truly loves you will chase you. So, you never chased around a guy even though you liked them. When the first year finally ended, he dragged you to the back of the gym and professed his undying love for you filled with volleyball analogies. 

“Y/n-san! I’m sure you know this already but I like you– actually I love you.” He took a deep breath and looked at you eye to eye, not daring to cower away from your eyes. “At first, I thought it was just because you’re the prettiest girl I ever met but you were kind, patient and caring. When I saw you in the market reach for the oil to give to the old woman my heart stopped. When you taught me Japanese literature, you never got frustrated with me but matched my slow pace and I thought ‘Ah, she’s so considerate.’ When you cheered me on in that Shiratorizawa stand, all I could think about was to not disappoint you and that goes on into my head in each practice and each game.” He didn’t fumble in his words like he used to, he didn’t bite his tongue anymore and spilled his emotions all over you. 

“Every moment with you feels like a successful jump serve, or watching my sets get hit successfully. Being with you feels like having my fingers touch a volleyball to set.” He ended. You thought he was an idiot. An idiot who only cared about volleyball and not his grades. An idiot who only wanted the best. An idiot who cowered behind his feelings but you liked him too. 

You like the way he was dedicated to volleyball. You liked the way he’d walk on the side of the road on the pavement unconsciously.You liked the way he waited for you after school to walk you home so that you were safe and sound. You liked the way he’d wrap his scarf around your neck when you stubbornly not bring yours because ‘it ruins the fit.’ You loved his gentle love, it wasn’t loud or boastful but sat on your shoulders for you to receive endlessly. “It took you long enough, you volleyball idiot.” You aggressively give him a peck on the corner of his lips which nearly sent him to a cardiac arrest.

Your dates were like any other teenager date, you went to a small local cafe, the aroma of the coffee beans hitting your faces as you stepped in, the warmth of the cafe warming your cold skin from the frozen winds of winter. “What do you want to order?” He queries, waiting for you patiently as your eyes brisked over the menu. 

“Hmm… I want hot chocolate and fudge cake please.’ You say to him as you look at what caught your attention the most. 

Tobio was gentle, warm like hot chocolate.“Nothing else?” Tobio cared like an old nurse at a paediatric hospital. “You don’t want the pastel de nata?” Your eyes brightened at the mention of the food, he didn’t need to hear more. He knew you like the volleyball terminologies he’s kept in his brain. 

“We’ll have two hot-chocolates, one with marshmallows and the other one just with whipped cream. One pastel de nata, one fudge cake, and one cheesecake please.” He says to the worker with a plain boring voice, a deep contrast to how he’d speak to you that made the worker pop his eyes due to the switch up.

When you sat down at the small, circular mahogany table, he removes his jacket and places it on your lap. “Stop wearing skirts during winter, you’ll get cold.” Kageyama never cared about what you wore, he couldn’t care if you wore short skirts or tops with deep cleavage, but you wearing a skirt with thin tights during winter? Gosh he hated it so much. He hated your discomfort, hated how your teeth chattered, hated how you’d rub your legs for some little warmth. Why wear something so uncomfortable?

“I wanted to look good for you.” You shyly admit, slightly saddened by his scolding tone,l looking away from his gaze, a pout on your tinted lips.

“Huh?” He raises his right brow at you, tilting his head to the right in confusion of your words. “You look good in whatever. Why bother thinking of what you’d wear when you’re the one that makes it beautiful.” Kageyama was brazen, but he was straightforward and blunt. He doesn’t know how to lie to you. He was the only guy who could make your heart flutter like no other, make you shy like no other, love you like no other. 

“Tobio! Shut up! You’re making me shy! Dammit!” You’d whisper yell, hiding behind your own palms, the table next to you probably heard his brazen comment too. 

“Glad to know I have an effect on you like that.” He jokes causing you to mutter a string of curses under your breath.

When your food came, you stabbed your fudge cake with the fork they gave and happily put it in your mouth. Kageyama pokes on the cheesecake and waits for you to swallow the first bite of your cake. “Say ahh.” He places the fork in front of your lips, and gently places the fork in your mouth until you slowly slid off the cheesecake on the fork with your lips. Kageyama never took the first bite of his food, you did. From the sesame flavoured ramen to the matcha ice cream, you always had the first bite and the last? He’ll give it to you too. 

Kageyama snaps back to reality when he sees Hachiro successfully give a perfect toss. He was a genius like him too. However, Hachiro was more like you more than anything and didn’t carry a part of him. Your smile, your resilience, your personality. Hachiro was truly your son. 

Kageyama travels down further down the memory lane to when he was 20. He remembered his success climbing rapidly since he joined the U-19 team, he was also a setter for Schweiden Adlers during that time, playing with big names like Ushijima, Hoshiumi and Romero. He was 20 when he was at the peak of his youth. Kageyama Tobio knew it was time. 

After the volleyball season ended, he was determined more than ever to stay with you. So, he went to the jewellers just a few blocks away from the Schweiden Adlers’ training centre straight after practice. He knew your ring size just by a simple guesstimation with his observant eyes. He knew you better than anyone. 

Kageyama’s hand all of a sudden felt heavy when he was touching the rings, wondering which one you’d love the most. He knew that diamond rocks too big were gaudy in your eyes, and looking at tiny ones didn’t even cross his mind. It overwhelmed him seeing so many varieties of the same cut of diamond. The seller, noticing his distress, offered some guidance. “May I ask what the future fiancee is like?” He jumps in right in the moment where Kageyama might just drag you here himself and ask you to pick one you’ll love. 

Kageyama Tobio didn’t need to think deeply about what you were like, his tongue moved flawlessly when talking about you. “She’s gorgeous of course. She’s down to earth, she likes flashy things but rarely, she likes peace yet she’s chaos at the same time. She only wears colours that compliment her skin because some of them aren’t a part of her colour palette. Her favourite show is Brooklyn 99. She hates my PR manager.” Kageyama could go on for days but it seemed like the jeweller already knew everything he needed to know. 

“May I ask what complexion the lucky woman is?” He pulls out his phone from his back pocket and shows off the wallpaper where he was giving you a peck on the lips. “I see, I think the lady would suit this band better, the opposite will clash with her skin tone.” He directs Kageyama to a different area of the store, pointing at the collection of rings that had the same metal band. 

Kageyama was hesitant awhile ago, but when he saw that 5-carat diamond ring staring at him like it was calling out to its owner. He knew it was the one. “I’ll take that in size…” His finger touches the cold glass, pointing at the ring that caught his attention. “I’ll have T and (initial) engraved.” He requests which the salesman nodded his head to. 

“We’ll have it available tomorrow, sir.” Kageyama nodded his head firmly once and paid the ring before he left. 

Tobio reaches your shared apartment sat in the centre of Tokyo, he searches for you when he doesn’t hear you greet him when he enters. Then, he saw you fast asleep on the couch, TV was playing in the background whilst your neck was positioned in an uncomfortable position. He watches you for a few seconds; Kageyama appreciated this scene more than anything, this air of domesticity in your apartment was something he barely experienced as a kid but with you– he felt it everyday. 

He scoops you up from the couch hoping you won’t wake from the movement and carries you to your shared bedroom with a queen sized bed.

He places you down the bed gently, draping the cream coloured duvet over your shoulders and tucked you in tightly. “Tobio…” Your eyes slowly flutter open. 

“Shhh… go back to bed, I’ll just shower then join you.” He was sitting on the edge of the bed, caressing the top of your head with his right hand. You nodded weakly and returned to dreamland without further resistance. Kageyama knew you were fatigued from your university coursework and your internship at the publisher company, despite all that you still managed to find time in your timetable to go on dates.

Being with Kageyama Tobio was like dipping your feet in the white seafoam that washed the white sand, his mere presence enough to make you giddy and wash away any sadness from the passing hours or days. Love with Kageyama Tobio was gentle, slow, yet transitory.

Time was a typhoon to both of you, it tested your faith in each other every single time, every hardship came on strong and left you both shaken every time. He was always out of the country during your holidays, on your birthdays and even anniversaries. You accepted it but it was a heavy cross to bear. It was like a threaded needle passing through your heart every time and someone tugs on the cotton tightly, and your heart crimps at every day he was missing.

It was a hard adjustment to make, to push your feelings aside to watch him take a higher flight but you knew there was a line not to cross. He wouldn’t stop you from chasing your dream, so you can’t stop him either. 

Kageyama missed your presence too when he was away, he became despondent and stared at his wallpaper for longer each time but he knew, you both knew one thing: Volleyball came first to him over anything, over anyone. 

It was a cold winter that day, the frost bit every exposed skin to the dry air, the sun was nowhere to be found just like Tobio. You travelled all around the world to capture news on war, you saw scenes that took a part of your soul each time, in those days during your internship you learnt that life was transcendent. It was a bitter truth that kept you from sleeping properly at night, you’d hug your knees at the corner of your shared bedroom in hopes it’ll remind him of you. ‘Tobio, come home please.’

You craved Kageyama’s presence like cold soba in the summer, you needed someone to tell you it was okay even though nothing was but Kageyama’s absence was strong– lingered on your skin and other senses. Your life dulled without him. 

“Y/n-san your birthday is coming up, do you want to go out to drink with the others?” Your mentor asked, she was in her 40’s with a young three year old boy back at home, fine lines around her eyes and her smile lines were prevalent but a symbol of her lovely personality. 

“AH! No, thank you.” You sheepishly decline. “My boyfriend and I have dinner plans.” Kageyama promised you that he’ll be back before your birthday and that you’ll have dinner reservations at the Japanese-Italian fusion fine dining restaurant at Roppongi. 

"Oh lucky guy.” She nudges you on the side of your stomach lightly, she gave you a knowing smile like you made it in life. “Pro volleyball player, right?” She attempts to recall what he looks like but was not well-versed in the volleyball world.

“Yes, he’s a member of the Schweiden Adlers.” You proudly say, your heart swelled in pride for Kageyama. You watched him make mistakes, learn and grow; you were proud to have stood by his side during all those times. 

“Ohhh where Ushijima Wakatoshi is.” You nodded at her words profusely and gave her a double thumbs up. 

“I’ll get going then Mirai-san, my taxi’s here.” You gave her a court bow, and wished her safety when she’s going back home. 

You reached your apartment building, scrambling for your keys that have magically reached the bottom of your bag like always. You poke the key in the keyhole and open the door, the cold knob on your palms, your heart feels heavy again knowing there wasn’t anyone in this apartment but you. “I’m home.” You say to yourself knowing no one will reply, it was just a habit– a bitter reminder that no one is there. 

You hung your denim jacket on the coat hanger and your bag beside it. You slip off your shoes exposing your sock-clothed feet on the hardwood floor, carefully place your shoes beside your heels and wore your slippers. You tie your hair up using the hair tie you always have on your right wrist whilst making your way to the kitchen. 

Your hand reaches to open the faucet, the water was hot and caused you to retract your hands and wince. You place your hands under the running water again, toughening up, and then pump the handsoap on your hands and lathered it for half a minute mindlessly. Once finished, you shook your hands vigorously to shake off the water until it dried off. 

There wasn’t anything in the fridge and you knew that but leftover rice, yet you still opened it. You sighed, dinner was canned tuna and rice again. You were tired most of the days, if not all of them, so you’ve resolved into canned tuna and food from the convenience store just at the end of your street. Tonight was like that too, this was normalcy to you. 

You took a shower and dropped yourself on the bed and called your boyfriend who was probably having his morning jog right now. He picks up after one ring expecting your call. “Tobiooo.” Your voice drags out his name. 

“Y/n, are you okay?” He asked with concern, lacing his voice, you could feel his gentleness through the phone despite that they were just microwave transmissions turned to sound waves. 

“I’m fineee.” You shift your position on the bed to a more comfortable position. 

“Have you been eating well?” He questions knowing of your poor eating habits. 

There was something that shifted between you and the Schweiden Adlers’ setter during the times where he was gone. “Of course.” You giggled at his seemingly frivolous question with an incredulous tone. 

“Good.” The change was obvious to you, but not to Tobio. “I’ll be back home on the day of your birthday.” You smiled at his words, your heart beating more rapidly. 

“Thank gosh.” You say outloud. “I miss you so bad.” You felt happy again, less dispirited than you were an hour ago. You hated yourself for making him your comfort. 

“I miss you too.” His voice was sweet like candy, it felt like you were 16 again. You kind of wished that Kageyama and you were younger because that would mean he’d still have some time left over for you. 

You fell asleep on call while Kageyama Tobio was speaking about what happened during practice yesterday. His heart warms when he realises you’d fallen asleep on call again, he knew how tiring that work was for you, he wanted you to quit but he also knew how important sharing news on suffering meant to you. He can only dig his nails on his palms and pray that you’ll be fine somehow. 

The day of your birthday reaches, the day was sunny and bright with barely any clouds covering the sky. You spend the day cleaning your shared apartment so that Kageyama reaches a clean home. The music blasted on your speakers playing “Dancing Queen” by ABBA whilst you wiped the surfaces with fibre cloth. 

You were in a fantastic mood and nothing can possibly ruin it, not your package being delayed despite the fact it should have arrived yesterday. You hum to yourself when you finished cleaning, your head kept turning to the white clock hanging above the arch of the hallway. 

You entered the bathroom, the glass of the shower moistening due to the hot vapour after a few minutes of having it turned on. The warm water hits your skin which releases all of the tensed muscles from its position. You scrub yourself clean and did the special shower routine you only do once a week. 

When you closed your eyes you could see Tobio, his hair was shorter, the Karasuno uniform on him, his P.E jumper slightly worn out over the three years. High school third year was the best yet most stressful time of your life, but everyone came together during that period of struggle, everyone relied on each other more and watched out for each other in case things became too much. You got closer to Tsukishima Kei and Yamaguchi Tadashi who were the only ones that cared about academics in your boyfriend’s volleyball club and studied with them from time to time too.

Your boyfriend, the starting setter of the Karasuno volleyball team, didn't worry about school like you did. He already had scouters chasing him and was just about to represent Japan in the Rio Olympics. Life sailed easily for the student athlete. 

That year meant that Kageyama came over to your house often, he carried canned coffee and a nutritious snack each time he came over and brought dinner in your bedroom.

“Y/n, you need to sleep now.” The clock hit 22.00, your eyes were strained and slightly red, your skin was duller and your eye-bags were heavier. He rubs his palm on your shoulders slowly, you didn’t push him away but kept on looking at your neatly written notes filled with coloured highlights. You didn’t even hear him if you were being honest.

Tobio resolves to the final solution, he shuts your notebook himself and untucks you from your white study table. “Tobio!” You yelp when he carries you and throws you on your bed. 

Your back laid flat on your soft mattress, watching his expressionless face. “Stay still.” He pulls your duvet covers over your body, and wraps you like a burrito. “Sleep.” His words were short and commanded your acquiescence. 

Kageyama Tobio was the love of your life especially when you were 18, no doubts ever came in your relationship then. Tobio simply had more time to love you. His face was motionless but his eyes showed his cracking form just because you stressed yourself too much about the upcoming exams, it pained him a lot knowing he couldn’t do anything about it. He hated watching you helpless, he just hoped his presence would be enough to make everything okay. Will him staying be ever enough for you?

“Can you sleep next to me tonight?” Your tone– meek, misery on the tip of your tongue. Something cracked in the volleyball player’s heart that night, it was you. You shattered a little that night.

“Of course.” You hated him for making you only find succour in him. You caved in so easily in his small acts, his wordless actions that screamed ‘I know you’ was enough to make him worth everything in your life. You never understood why people say they’d be happy even if they had no money as long as they had their loved ones but for the very first time you understood it perfectly. 

That memory was sunlight clear to you, that memory came to you like a cold breeze in the blazing summer, a reminder that he was worth anything. The space beside your bed dipped, the duvet now shared between you two, your head laying on his shoulder whilst your nails traced random lines on his thin t-shirt. 

However, Kageyama Tobio was not worth your everything just like you weren’t his. 

The clock hit 9.30, your dinner reservation was due two hours ago, he should have been here six hours ago. You knew it. You hated him for making you right, couldn’t he prove you wrong just this once? You hated him that night and every night that passed afterwards. 

You hear the front door open, you could hear his heavy footsteps walking towards where you were. He saw you, looking ever so beautiful in your evening dress, but your face was scorned with distaste when you saw his face. “I’ve forgiven you for so many things, Tobio, forgotten anniversaries, delayed birthday celebrations, your absence in the new year. Is it too much to ask for you to attend my once a year birthday?” You looked at him with so much sadness in your eyes that it made his heart sit uneasily.

Kageyama Tobio’s always seen right through you, and he saw that you were finally done putting up with him. 

“Y-You promised me you’d be here.” Your voice quivers from both anger and melancholy. “You told me! What’s happened to you, Tobio?” Kageyama Tobio remembers it well, how you looked at him with such disbelief and he knew that was his peripeteia – his point of no return. 

“I’m sorry.” No amount of regret, no amount of ‘sorry’s’ can ever change your mind at that moment, not even his ‘I love you’ that would soften your hardened heart. “They made me stay back to sign some endorsement papers and I had to talk to the coach.” He says, not to excuse himself but to say something. 

“Are you a kid? Can you not just say, ‘Later, because my girlfriend is waiting back at home for our dinner because it’s HER BIRTHDAY.” You emphasise which stung his heart. “You didn’t even call this morning, just a simple ‘Happy birthday. I love you.’ message. Am I not worth even five minutes of your time?” You stood up from the bed, the mattress slowly retracting in shape, your feet leading you to him.

“I’m truly sorry.” He didn’t have more to say. He knew it was bad. He knew it was wrong yet did it anyway. He was a horrible man for you. 

“Tobio, do you love me?” You asked him, giving him a false sense of hope that everything could be okay again. 

“Of course, why would you–” You cut him off mid-sentence. 

“Question that?” You complete his sentence for him. “Because you don’t make me feel like it, Kageyama.” Once again, something inside Kageyama’s heart shattered and this time it was your faith and love for him. “I’m your second choice, Kageyama. I’m your second choice in love, in happiness, in dedication, in time. I matter too little to you.” Were you right? He knew you were so he couldn’t even fend himself from the words you spat from your mouth. 

Kageyama wanted it to stop at that moment, he wanted his heart from crumbling from the truth that you both knew. “Don’t say that, please.”

Your vision blurred for some reason, your eyes blinked more for some reason, then you realised that you were about to bawl your feelings. Your hands form a small fist, and banged it on his chest as you leaned your forehead against him; instinctively, he hugs you. “I wished for you. I acted like I didn’t need you. I acted like everything was okay. I prayed that you’d come back to me.” 

“Tobio, why didn’t you come back to me?”

Each word.

“Tobio, why aren’t you here for me anymore?”

Each question

“Tobio, why don’t you love me anymore?”

Each cry was a step to your ending. 

“I’m sorry, Y/n. I love you, I truly do. Please forgive me again, I’ll quit for you. So please, just don’t leave anymore.” Will you stay? Will you accept his sweet lies again? Will you let him off the hook again? Just how many more times can he test you?

You push him away. “Don’t treat me like an idiot, Kageyama Tobio. You know you won’t. Let’s just stop. You and I can’t be together. We’re only with each other at the good times, and when things falter so does our love.”

He remembered that night like sunlight clear, the exact minute you said those words, what the shape of the moon was and how much clouds covered the moon that night. “I can’t keep loving you anymore, I’m tired.” He remembered how much he shattered you. 

“Hachi!” Your saccharine voice drags him back to the present. 

“Hachiro!” Another voice beside you calls out, the voice deeper and masculine, he knew that voice from his younger days too. A person whom he admired silently from behind. 

Your son runs up to you and hugs you on the knees, ignoring him and the volleyball on his hands. “Mama! Papa!” 

You carried the five year old boy in your arms. “Playtime’s over now, say goodbye to uncle Kageyama.” You instruct your child to wave goodbye.

“Bye uncle Kageyama! Play volleyball some other time with me again!” He was well articulated, knew his manners just like you. 

You gave Kageyama a curtsy smile, your history long written off and replaced with your husband. “Akaashi-san, how are you?” He asked the man beside you.

“I’m good, thank you for asking. How have you been doing? Great, I hope.” Your husband replies. His wavy hair parted in the middle, his metal framed glasses on his nose bridge, his ever so soft smile forever present on his lips. 

“Wonderful.” Akaashi and Kageyama exchanged a conversation filled with courtesy, talking about how the past few months had been for you and him. Kageyama’s always admired Akaashi ever since he was a first year, a calm and collected man that made decisions after weighing the possible outcomes. He was everything Kageyama wasn’t. 

“Well, we’ll get going then.” You said goodbye to each other and left, your husband removes Hachiro from your arms and carries him instead. The boy waves at him again, Kageyama’s heart melts at the happy scene. That was his dream life, something that he’ll never achieve with undefeated volleyball feats. 

Kageyama remembers how his heart clenched tightly, how he gripped on the cuffs of his tux on your wedding day; how Akaashi Keiji gave a chaste kiss on the lips he used to kiss, how Akaashi Keiji said ‘I do’ to the woman he thought he was going to marry, how Akaashi Keiji was waiting for the woman he dreamt of waiting down the aisle for. 

Kageyama remembers how his heart nearly bursts when he hears of your childbirth, he remembers when he first saw your child that bore the black hair of Akaashi Keiji’s. He remembered how bitter he felt knowing he’d never be the one to coo your child asleep, will never be the one to change the diapers, will never be the one they call ‘dada’, will never be the one to watch their first walk, will never be the one to take them to their first day of kindergarten. 

MSBY Black Jackals infamous Bokuto Koutarou was smittened with his girl, you. His conversations carried you always, ‘my girlfriend told me that…’ and his favourite one ‘my future wife told me that…’ He just really loved having a piece of you with him every time. He thinks he’s snuck you in skilfully into the conversation but the rest of the MSBY knows he’s just bragging.

Bokuto who purposefully leaves his lunch at home that you prepared for him with your hands that were way smaller than his just so that he could show you off at practice.

“Baby! You’re here!” He’d yell out loud when he sees you across the gym, he’d jog up to you and place a sloppy peck on your lips shamelessly.

“Koutarou…” You say with a faux threatening tone, a warning that he should pipe down his love for PDA. “Stop leaving your lunch, imagine what’ll happen if I had work today.” You patted his head which caused him to grin further. Gosh, how he loved bragging about you.

“You’re the best baby!” He’d exclaim to further rub it on their face how none of them can ever have the best girl in the world cause he had you.

“Go on now, I’ll see you tonight.” You give him a quick peck on the corner of his lips which earned you a pout and two pats on his shoulders.

“M’kayyy…” He says saddened. You began walking away whilst you waved him goodbye.

“Do ya always halfta rub it on us that we’re single?!” His setter, Atsumu, dramatically grips on his the fabric on his chest and bite his bottom lip hard.

“Disgusting.” Sakusa shakes his head.

“Y/n-san’s so amazing!” His former mentee praises which made him more smug. He didn’t need to hear it from anyone else cause he already knew but he loved how people worshipped you.

Bokuto Koutarou who would come home with a bouquet of pastel-pink peonies, a symbol of his appreciation for you. Mainly just because he loved seeing your eyes glint every time he came bearing gifts, the small jump you do after you take the bouquet in your arms, and the extra long kiss you’d give to show him how thankful you were. Most importantly, the smile on your face was the greatest consequence of his small surprise.

Ever since Bokuto came in your life the vase in your shared apartment never had wilted flowers.

Bokuto Koutarou who’d dedicate his every point to you, he’d always say that the strength of his spike was as strong as the love he has for you. Bokuto’s sensitive hearing would isolate your voice from the crowd when you say, “Bokuto-beam!” because he feels more energised knowing you’re in the crowd.

Bokuto Koutarou who’d drag you to the camera because he realises that it’s another opportunity to boast you to the whole world. “This is my girlfriend, she looks hella gorgeous doesn’t she?” The camera crew would be confused as to why Bokuto took you to the camera because he was just answering a question about his cut-shot but they don’t mind. For some reason, the public grew to love you too and it got them good ratings too.

“Kou! Stop it!” You giggle as he gives you a smooch on the lips on live TV.

“What?” He asks oblivious. “They love us anyways.” He bashfully says. Bokuto Koutaro wasn’t wrong, and that was pretty darn annoying.

Bokuto Koutarou whose instagram highlights were 80 percent you and the rest were volleyball and a few pictures with his friends from high school. People would mistake his page as a fan account for you instead of a volleyball athlete that represents his country.

Bokuto who knew he had a crush on you when you first walked into the gym, asking to talk to him because he’d gotten in trouble and was called to the principal’s office again.

Bokuto who knew he liked you so much when he couldn’t handle attending training camps in a different city because it meant he couldn’t take the train with you home.

Bokuto who knew he loved you truly when you wore the tacky “The ace is the way” t-shirt him and Akaashi agreed on was a good idea despite Konoha telling them that their tastes in clothes sucked.

Bokuto who asked you out on a date out of whim when he realised many other guys wanted you but he had to move faster and better than anyone else so he called Akaashi whom he had on speed-dial to help him plan the most perfect date.

Bokuto who knew you were his everything when he didn’t even need to escape his emo mode with your words, just your presence.

Bokuto who knew were the one when he suddenly imagined his whole life ahead of him when you first had your sleepover as boyfriend and girlfriend and wished that every morning was him waking up next to your beautiful face. .

Akaashi who knew you were the one for Bokuto when you managed to match their vibes without strange looks. Bokuto and Akaashi were weirdoes, despite their alluring visages no one could handle their personality especially Bokuto who couldn’t put a lid on it.

Akaashi who knew you were the one for Bokuto when Bokuto passed all of his classes to avoid supplementary classes so that he could go on a date with you.

Akaashi who knew you both were perfect for each other when he saw Bokuto become more grounded around you and how you became more eccentric around him.

Akaashi who knew you both were perfect for each other when you guys smiled the brightest with each other.

Akaashi who knew you’d stay together forever when he heard wedding bells the day you laughed with his dear ol’ captain.

Bokuto Koutarou who proposed to you with shaky hands, partially scared that you’ll get bored of him because he may be too boisterous at times and that maybe you’d prefer someone more calm but when you said “yes” and made out with him, his worries dissolved like cotton candy on water.

Bokuto Koutarou who stared at the 4-carat diamond ring on your finger throughout the whole dinner, excited like a kid who got permission from their parents that they can have ice-cream before dinner.

Bokuto Koutarou who’d kiss your knuckles as he steers the wheel single-handedly, still dazed about the ring on your finger. It took four consolations from Akaashi that it was gonna be okay, he never believed it fully but now he has to thank Akaashi for helping him rehearse.

“I love us so much.” He’d say out of blue which you would laugh at.

“I agree, I love us so much.” You’d say too, gosh he’d fallen even further for you. Just how deep was this well? He’s been falling for since he was 18. Not that Bokuto Koutaro would ever dare complain about falling for you.

Bokuto Koutarou whose nightly dreams were always you in a white dress, walking down the aisle, a bouquet of your favourite flowers in hand. He’d be on the other end, crying cause the girl he’s loved since he was 18 will be finally be his wife once and for all. No wonder he wakes up in a good mood everyday.

Oikawa Tooru, a smart, popular, athletic guy in class 6 which was truly surprising considering he seemed to divulge his time more in volleyball. Y/n, admired him-- not in that way, yet at least, she liked ambition and hardworking and Oikawa Tooru embodied that.

You attended one of their matches back then in your 2nd year as you were invited by one of your friends who highly recommended to go to watch gawk at guys from the Shiratorizawa team. You saw Oikawa then, each kiss of his palm on the ball carried his blood, sweat and tears. He had a desperation unlike no other in that court. You liked that more than anything about a guy.

However, when that match concluded she was disappointed-- not because Aoba Johsai lost but a glimpse of wavering faith passes his eyes. Annoyance, she noticed that too. A familiar feeling you've known yourself. Knowing that someone out there better than you knowing you've worked harder more than anyone else, but when you were handed with bad cards; what choice do you have but do your best with them?

You walked away before Shiratorizawa even received their medals and whatnot, there was nothing more to see but Oikawa's obvious frustration on his face. He was familiar, not because they've been at the same class since first year but because she felt the same way as he did. You pitied him, no, you felt for him. You prayed for him silently, to go learn to get through it like you did.

Oikawa felt a piercing glare throughout the match, not because at least 200 people were on the stands watching but a certain glare of judgement that irked him. He felt like every piece of him was being watched, unpacked and carefully inspected.

Then, when he looked at that direction, he saw that girl who seemed to be in competition with everyone else in the class even though no one was truly a part of that but her. The girl that has 8 hours of volunteering every week at a local hospital, the girl that had her nose buried in a book despite lunch time, the girl that the teacher came to when no one else could answer that differentiation with trigonometric functions on the board or when no one bothered to put their hand up to solve the pH of a buffer solution. He didn't like her nosy eyes.

He hated that, Iwaizumi was the only exception for those type of gazes and no one else. Maybe his girlfriend of two months but it'll still piss him off. No one could possibly understand him, only his dear Iwa-chan understood him almost perfectly.

At the start of third year, Oikawa broke up with his girlfriend. Of course he shed a few tears here and there, but after two weeks he was himself again. He was not even 18 yet, too young to spend another minute crying and too young to waste his time on an incompatible relationship.

He was in the same class as you again, you were sat in the first row, window seat, and sat in front of him. It gave him the perfect view to inspect you, hate you a little more.

After that odd seething anger towards her, he began seeing her face more. He picked out her face almost immediately in that canteen, he noticed when she would park her bike with three spots in between them, he would notice that you lingered a minute longer in a page when it was Statistics and that you were ahead by five questions when it was Mechanics-- but for some reason, you never seemed to see him, not even in your peripheral vision.

You walked past him like a ghost, wired earphones plugged in whilst two of your friends chatted away even when he looked at you intensely. Albeit, he was hurt. Did he have a one sided annoyance? Were you not enemies? It infuriated him for some reason, how could you unpack him just like that like you knew him for all those years but not even acknowledge him ever again. Oikawa Tooru wanted equal hatred from you.

After 6 weeks of sitting behind you, he also noticed that you liked Organic Chemistry, it only had your best hand writing and had the most stickers on the front of your notebook compared to Inorganic Chemistry or and subject in fact.

Oikawa also learnt that you stayed after school in the library to revise, he shook his head at that, what would happen if you were to ride your bike home and some creeps come up to you? Especially in the winter, the sun disappears at half past four for goodness sake.

It was Wednesday break time when he first spoke to you, you and him just had Maths more specifically you were learning Statistics. It wasn't a hard topic, it was the easiest one compared to Pure or Mechanics. Unfortunately, you absolutely despised Statistics. Oikawa knew you were struggling, he knew it took a blow on the no.1 student's pride.

When everyone had left, he stood to your left, his calloused finger pointing at your messy working out "You need to find the mean and the variance before you can write out the distribution; It's based on the Central Limit Theorem and you accidentally treated it as a Poisson distribution instead of a discrete." You looked up from your paper, the grip on your pen slightly loosened when you saw it was him talking to you.

"Oh, thanks." You said slightly embarrassed, it was a rookie mistake-- even five year old wouldn't make that frivolous mistake.

Oikawa felt flustered, you spoke to him softly which contrasted your resting face and your confident tone every time you spoke in class. "It's fine, I did that too on the third question." He lied, Oikawa's pen flowed like river during the entire 2 hour lesson but it caused a small chuckle to come out of her so it was a great lie. Totally worth it.

There was an uncomfortable pause. Shit. Oikawa thought. "If you'd like, I can help you whenever you need." Just the hell is coming out of my mouth. "I am available after practice." Fuck. "Only if you need it though!" He then ended his endless babble.

You, though suspicious, was not one to deny free help when it came to your worst topic in Maths. "Really? Thanks!" You smiled at him, it was the first time he ever saw you smile, he swallowed his spit hard whilst he looked down on you. Oh no, she's cute.

Oikawa Tooru was now eating his lunch, a well balanced meal containing soy-glazed chicken, brown rice, broccoli, carrots and four egg rolls. His mind wondered endlessly, he was supposed to find reasons to hate her not help her. Gosh, mission failed. "The hell's wrong with you today?" Iwaizumi said as he sat down with two of their other friends with lunch trays on their hand.

Oikawa didn't even hear him. Hanamaki looked at the direction he was looking at, a group of four girls but only one could possibly be connected to Oikawa. "She's out of your league, move on bro." He says bluntly while grinning at his own comment.

"Who?" Matsukawa turned his head around immediately to look at the direction Hanamaki and Oikawa were looking.

"Reader, everybody wants her." Hanamaki replied in a 'as a matter of fact tone.'

"Ohhh, her." Matsukawa nodded slowly as he realised who they were talking about.

"Wait, she's popular?" Oikawa asked, quite befuddled by the new fact. Iwaizumi, who sat across was quite shocked his friend was interested in someone and looked at him suspiciously.

"Duh. Number one student, part of the student council, kind-hearted, and pretty. Every guy in the team wants her." Hanamaki explains whilst Matsukawa nods at every word as he spoke.

"You guys like her?" Oikawa asked, in a slightly worried yet competitive tone, Iwaizumi looks up from his food and watched the scene unfold before him.

"My type, totally my type, but she deserves someone better." Matsukawa replied in a faux saddened tone.

"Don't do anything funny, Oikawa." Iwaizumi said in a warning tone. "She's a nice girl, if you don't have time to take her seriously then don't even bother asking her out." Iwaizumi looked at him with a look that Oikawa knew that he should listen well.

"Iwa-chan, you have a crush?" Oikawa looked at him with a glint of mischief and the mocking tone seeping out of his tongue. Iwaizumi cocked his head to the left, and pointed the tip of his tongue on his right cheek.

"Shittykawa!" With that, Oikawa spent at least two minutes getting his hair pulled by Iwaizumi the small ruckus gaining your attention.

During practice, Oikawa was at his tip-top form, but everyone noticed that he spun his head around at least every five minutes to look at the passing time. A very unusual behaviour for Oikawa.

He teased Iwaizumi more, and teased Kyotani even more. He was less respondent to the girls that came and watched him play, and a small smile hasn't left his lips ever since the start of practice. "Is he high or what?" Iwaizumi mumbled quietly when Oikawa walked with a slight bounce to his feet.

The coach also noticed Oikawa's odd behaviour, but he kept his silence knowing that teenage boys were a mystery. When the clock hit 6.00, the grin on Oikawa's face grew and grew. The coach ended the session by delivery the plan for tomorrow's practice and Oikawa nearly bolted out the gym doors.

"Shittykawa!" Causing him to halt his revved up tempo. "Are you not staying late?" He asked with his eyes squinting at the brown haired boy whose mind seemed to have gone to wonderland.

"Hmm? Says who?" Oikawa happily skipped towards the locker rooms to get changed, not even bothering to help clean up the blue and yellow coloured balls on the floor. Meanwhile, the rest of the team looked at each other with confused gazes.

Oikawa leaving when actually dismissed for practice? Never.

The setter walked with his arms to his sides, his hand laying on top of the side of his thigh while tapping his fingers randomly to an unknown beat, humming as he strolled the school hallway. Oikawa's heart was beating, perhaps with overflowing hatred.

When he finally reached the library, he went and looked for you, he saw you near the back, far away from the librarian. He watched you for a moment, standing still amidst the peaceful library, whilst you tabbed your Biology textbook.

His slender hands pulled the seat next to you gently as to not to startle you with a screeching wooden chair against the oak floor. You gave him a gentle smile, and greeted him by saying, "Oikawa-san, how was practice?" You were truly different from what he perceived you to be.

"Fun, got to use my muscles after sitting on the chair for hours." He replied complainingly. "Have you been here since four?"

She shook your head at his question, "Nope, I was helping arrange the excel spreadsheet for the club budgets."

"Please give my club more funds, L/n-chan." He places his hands together, a teasing pleading eyes whilst his cherry lips formed a pout.

Oh no, he's cute. The polite smile on her lips faltered and turned to a more genuine one, her eyes slowly squinted when her lips curled up. "I'll see how good at tutoring you are, then I'll consider." She gives him a playful wink.

"Don't worry, stats will become like the alphabet to you once the session is over." He smirked boastfully, after all he was the only reason why Hanamaki and Matsukawa were even passing all of their classes.

Oikawa went ahead and grabbed his textbook, he never really used his notebook for Maths, just his exercise book. Instead, he labelled his textbook with sticky notes with things that were going through his mind when he was doing questions to fully comprehend the topic.

Y/n opened her exercise book which was shamefully riddled with crossed out lines and hand writing that detoriorate as the question number increased.

"Write out the first question, then I'll explain." She did as he told. Oikawa scooched a lot closer to her, their chairs only an inch a part, their shoulders touching which became unbeknownst to them. It wasn't uncomfortable even though it was their first day talking. A sense of ease in the air knowing that his genuine kindness only wanted to help her.

When he began talking, his voice was affirmative yet gentle, not military-like but the type of voice you'd use when speaking to an old person about how to use a phone. She became immersed to his voice, like a dry sponge soaking in every word that flowed out of his mouth. When she didn't understand it even the slightest, she asked a question, then smiled brightly when it finally came to her.

Answering the made up question he wrote on her lined paper, there was a still silence between them. The time passed by woefully, a little selfishness inside of the Seijoh's captain hoped that she'd been lying the whole time and never truly understood it.

The scratch of mechanical pencil on her paper the only thing breaking the serenity, he watched her face-- not her working out, the hesitation when you typed in the numbers on the calculator and the number seemed deceivingly wrong. You held up the calculator in front of his face, a gleam of hope that you got it right, "Well done, L/n-chan." He beamed a proud smile.

He found it annoying that you understood it so fast, he wanted to stay at least fifteen minutes more with you. Time went by so fast with you, not even volleyball practice went by at the pace. Oikawa looked at the hands of the clock that was to his left, 7.15. "Thank you so much!" Y/n whispery yelled, he'd never seen this much enthusiasm for maths. "Can I treat you to something?" Y/n was not used to help without return, she was raised that way.

Her parents returned every single act of kindness with a gesture of appreciation, it was a way to express their gratitude. "How can I possibly let a lady pay for me?" Oikawa brushes it off as a joke. His sister nailed that to his head when he was young, she made sure Oikawa grew up to be a gentleman.

"I really want to though." The glint of joy in your eyes weaned off a little.

"If you insist, then maybe you can get some milk bread." He says passively as a joke but she nodded her head to that firmly, he knew she didn't pick up the joke.

"Let's get you home, wouldn't want you to ride your bike in the dark." She nodded with a smile and the two began packing up their stuff. Once they were finished, they tucked in their chairs quietly and left.

Oikawa couldn't help but notice their height difference when they were walking side to side her height barely reached his shoulders, and when he looked at her, he had to tilt his head downwards. For an unknown reason, it made Oikawa Tooru's heart pump more blood.

Y/n had a slight limp, and it didn't slip past Oikawa's observant eyes, she placed more pressure on her right foot. Oikawa was familiar to ankle sprains, he and Iwaizumi used to play by the wooded area of the parks and the roots that came out of the earth caused those nasty sprains.

Oikawa fiddled with the strap of his teal messenger to ease his nervousness, but she seemed totally fine. Perfectly fine. It was infuriating how perfect she was.

"So, how's volleyball looking like? Would I be right to presume that it's your choice of career." She turned to her right and looked up at him to make eye contact, but Oikawa broke it immediately.

"I think it's going great." A short answer, indicative of his discomfort.

As much as she wanted to drop the topic, she chose not to. "You'll be amazing." Y/n says with the most utmost trust. A complete stranger who didn't know him, perhaps giving baseless compliments soothed his heart slightly. "You're hardworking, talented and persistent."

Oikawa had never felt more connected to anyone up until that moment. A sense of knowing when she spoke, she was the wisdom and comfort he sought for. There and then, Oikawa wanted her.

As Y/n began to walk to her bike, Oikawa suddenly yelled, "Stop!" Causing her heart to flinch a little. "I think you shouldn't ride your bike, the wheel's a bit loose. Might come off." He swallowed his spit, hoping she'd trust his lie.

"Oh." Y/n says disappointingly, her ankle was hurting so much and walking home would just be a continuous reminder of the ache. "Thank you for warning me, what would have happened without you?" She forces a smile. "Well then, I'll see you tomorrow. Please get home safely." A polite bow, indicating that she was leaving.

"You can't possibly walk at this hour. It's so dark!" Oikawa held her wrist and gently took her to his bike. "Sit behind me, I'll take you home."

"How could I possibly?" Y/n denies his kind gesture.

"It'll make me sleep better tonight if I take you home. Do you know what creeps are out there?" Oikawa randomly flailed his arms around when he explained himself. He took off her shoulder bag away from her and carried it himself, sat on his bike, indicating that he was not taking a 'no' for an answer.

Y/n exhaled heavily knowing she couldn't possibly win against his persistence. She sat sideways on the seat behind him, gripping on the seat to make sure she won't fall but Oikawa turned his head around and took both of her hands and wrapped it around his waist. "So where do you live?" He asked.

"(Some random address)" She replied.

'What's with this aggressive kindness?' Y/n asked herself.

Oikawa began to pedal his way to that address. His cheeks and ears felt hot. He's never been this forward with a girl. Y/n laid her head onto his firm back after resisting her urge to do so for 4 times.

When they were riding the bike, they cycled past the 7-Eleven with a two people sitting and slurping the noodles whilst they faced the window. A light brown haired boy and a wavy haired boy looked at the scene before their eyes. They knew those two visages. "I saw that right, right?" Hanamaki asks his mate who was equally confused as him.

"I think. Maybe?" He, too, was befuddled.

"Interesting." They both said at the same time.

At the corner of his eye, Oikawa thought he saw Matssun and Makki but chose to ignore it and decided to enjoy the current situation at hand.

"There's still a chilly breeze from winter, you think?" Oikawa tucks his chin in a little deeper in his scarf after he asked the question.

"Yeah, still feels like winter to me." Y/n always felt cold, her hands and feet were always cold despite wearing leg-warmers or cashmere gloves. "I love spring though, I like the fact that it's slightly chilly and I can bring a jacket."

"L/n-chan that's a very specific thing to like about spring." He commented. 'Odd, but cute.'

"I mean, in summer you can't bring jackets since it's hot and since I have a lot of stuff I like in pockets, it's a bit of a hassle to keep 'em in my bag." Oikawa hesitantly nodded at her words. "Takes so long to just grab a damn lip balm from your bag, you know." She said, causing him to chuckle at her complaint.

"Now, that makes more sense."

"You, what's your favourite season?" Asking out of mere curiosity.

"Autumn, I like the looks of barren trees." He looked back at her whilst speaking.

"Oikawa-san, you're weird." She laughed at his face, to her the look of barren trees brought her heart down but to this guy it seemed like it was the opposite.

"Does that mean I'm special and stand out?" He pressed his lips together and pretended as if he was in a deep thought.

"Yes, if that's the answer that pleases you." She giggle once again, echoing around the empty streets, the street lights falling on her face giving her a slight orange hue.

"L/n-chan, you're mean." He pouted, a signature move of his.

"No, I'm honest."

"Meanie!"

They both laughed together, the bike slightly swaying due to Oikawa's divided attention.

They finally reached her home, which was two houses away from Iwaizumi's; Oikawa hadn't noticed earlier when she gave him her address but her house was just right around the corner and a bulb lit in Oikawa's mind.

She hopped off the bike and so did he, he walked her to the steps of her house and handed her the shoulder bag. "Goodnight, L/n-chan."

"Goodnight, Oikawa-san. Get home safely." She wanted to meet his eyes but he averted them once again.

She opened the door and walked in, giving him one final wave before she closed the door.

Oikawa let out a long exhale once Y/n closed the door shut. "The hell's wrong with you Oikawa Tooru, looking away like a damned middle school kid." He uttered under his breath, embarrassment seeping in his vein causing him to bite his lips.

Dang it. I thought she was annoying? She's not supposed to be cute and totally my type.

On the other hand, Y/n leaned her right hand on the door, "Why the hell were you so bold Y/n!" She yelled at herself. It's not like she liked Oikawa, so she didn't know why she so desperately wanted to impress him that she understood the material awhile ago. She didn't know why she didn't mind his presence.

Sure he has an admirable personality but that's about it! He does have broad shoulders though, he's six foot, funny, smart, charming...but! He has nothing else besides those things.

Y/n was supposed to study until 22.00, but her mind kept wandering off to Oikawa Tooru causing her to scream out randomly. Suddenly, her door barged open "ARE YOU GOOD?" Her older brother yelled at her.

"Yes, just don't understand this..." She obviously lied arousing suspicion but no further questions was asked and her brother left her room.

"Oikawa Tooru, you're dangerous."

Just around the corner of her street, the 17 year old boy rolled around his bed and was screaming at his pillow. His nephew caught him doing so. "Weirdooooo." Takeru says as he closed the door after thinking his uncle could play with him.

He removed his face from his pillow and watched the door be sealed shut, he spread out his arms and legs on his bed then placed his arm over his eyes.

"L/n Y/n, you're dangerous."

That night, two teenagers could not sleep.

The next morning, Oikawa got out of his house early and sat on his bike waiting outside Y/n's house. Was it weird? Perhaps. However, Oikawa forgot a very important thing.

A hand landed on his shoulder causing him to flinch instinctively. "Shittykawa, what are you doing here?"

"Iwa-chan, just waiting for a friend?"

"Don't think you have anyone else besides me and the two." Iwaizumi raised his brow. "Also, this is Y/n-san's house."

"YOU'RE ON FIRST NAME BASIS? UNFAIR!" He exclaimed outloud causing the lady who was flowering her front yard to look at the two. This caused Iwaizumi to slap him on the head.

"Of course," Oikawa's jaw further slackened. "Her mom and mine are at the same book club."

"Why isn't my mom helping me prosper." Oikawa clicked his tongue at the fact.

"I told you already Shittykawa, she's a nice girl-" Oikawa cut him off before he could say anything else.

"I know. Who else can treat her right but me?" He says cockily causing a vein to appear at the tanned man's right temple.

"You're full of shit."

"I am not."

They both heard the door open causing their heads to turn. "Good morning Hajime-kun! Good morning Oikawa-san!" There it was, a rusted arrow shot right through Oikawa's heart. '-san,' '-kun' the obvious tell-tale of their relationship.

"Y/n-san, good morning." A friendly smile appeared at Hajime's lips.

"Mornin' L/n chan!" Oikawa happily chirped, acting as if his whole world just didn't crumble in front of him.

"Oikawa-san, am I riding the bike with you again?" She asked, Y/n prayed it was a 'yes.'

"Of course, your ankle's still hurting right?" Oikawa accidentally slipped out. "I mean, your wheel is loose." Iwaizumi looked at him funny, it was on obvious lie.

Y/n's heart skipped a beat. 'Did he lie so that I won't ride my bike on a sprained ankle?' He made her jittery, it was so annoying. "I see, thank you once again." She walked towards the bike and Oikawa took the bag from her shoulder, again, as if he was programmed to do so.

Iwaizumi found it all too odd. She sat beside him, her right arm around his waist.

On their way to school, Iwaizumi rode his bike a little slower than Oikawa did, he watched them exchange jokes and giggles. No way, Oikawa was actually being decent. The guy never even made his ex laugh once, all he did was make her complain.

Iwaizumi was worried for his dear friend, Y/n who seemed to express the same energy as Oikawa. All he could hope was that Oikawa wouldn't do anything to mess it up.

When they arrived at school, Oikawa and Iwaizumi parked their bikes next to each other and Y/n patiently waited whilst they parked. "I'll fix your loose wheel for you, Y/n-san." Iwaizumi said while he looked directly at Oikawa, knowing the bike was damn well in perfect shape.

"I'd appreciate that Hajime-kun."

When Y/n attempted to take her bag from Oikawa, all he said was "Might as well lift a little bit of weights while walking you know."

'Why is he such a gentleman.' Y/n winced.

They walked to the third year hallways together, exchanging conversations about how their classes were going and a little snide comments from Iwaizumi complaining about every opinion Oikawa dropped.

They gained all the attention when walking. Y/n walking in between Oikawa and Iwaizumi, and the very detail they noticed was that Oikawa was carrying her bag. Her friends, whom she did not was walking a bit behind her kept nudging each other with their elbows while giggling for their dear friend who in the very first time was talking to guys.

The whole week was like that. To Oikawa’s dismay, Y/n’s ankle had already healed over the weekend. No more excuses to have her ride his bike.

Though they did get closer, closer to the point that Oikawa walked out of his extra practice five minutes earlier to walk towards the library to pick you up.

From that week and onwards, Y/n and the fellow Seijoh captains rode their bikes together. She became acquainted to his friend, and he became acquainted to hers.

It was June, Seijoh’s volleyball team officially competed with Karasuno. Usually, it would be Iwaizumi, her and Oikawa walking home together but not today. They were busy.

Oikawa was out celebrating their win at a local restaurant known for its hearty meals with large portions and Y/n was walking home alone. Normally, Oikawa stuffed his face with carbs and protein but he didn’t feel like it, a sense of unease sitting on his stomach.

The restaurant was a good 20 minute walk from Y/n’s path and Oikawa could sense something. He knew something was not right.

Y/n hated walking home alone ever since she got used to the two captains presence, a sense of loneliness and the boys were practically walking shields and swords.

Being a woman meant being gazed on, cat-called on, disrespected on. Many people like to say that they’d fight when experiencing assaults, but for most it’s not. The biological instinct to just not fight back, not mind it, to pray it’ll just go away.

When Y/n’s hand was grabbed by a man in his mid-forties, grey and white stubble, his hair line receding back, she kept apologising saying “I’m not interested, I’m sorry.” She wanted to scream, run, fight back but she physically couldn’t. Her heart sunk when she realised what situation she was in.

She really wanted to push his hand away from her, but her heart was beating so loudly it prevented her mind from making a rationale decision. For the very first time in her life, she felt a blood-chilling fear that crept up to her neck.

That second, the second she was about to burst into tears and beg for her life, she heard thudding footsteps and saw a curled up fist meeting the guy’s jaw. She looked at the man who was panting across her, sweat glistening under the moonlight, his auburn hair sticking to his forehead. He placed her behind him, his broad back covering her. She was safe now. She’s okay now.

“You little piece of shit!” When the guy was about to get up, he kicked him. Oikawa’s heart was pounding on his ribs, he was shaking with fury, Oikawa just wanted to get rid of him. He couldn’t stand that look on Y/n’s face, her eyes lost of life and looked like she was just about to give up, he didn’t like that and it was all because of this man.

Oikawa stood in front of the guy who clutched on to his chest, who must have broke a rib or two from his kick, Oikawa Tooru raised his knees, his foot directed to the man’s ribs. “Tooru-kun you’ll kill him!” Oikawa heard his conscience, a shaking hand pulling him slightly, he looked back and saw her teary eyes. Oikawa’s anger blossomed.

Oikawa wanted to respond but he couldn’t, he just wanted to get mad at this pervert who caused Y/n’s lashes to dampen, her nose to sniffle, her hands to shake. “Y/n-chan, please let me beat the shit out of him.” He pleaded, slowly putting his foot down to the man’s ribs and stepped on him.

“Shittykawa! Stop! Don’t do anything more!” Iwaizumi had successfully chased after Oikawa and saw the scene as he was a few paces behind Oikawa. “I’ll call the cops. Get your damn foot off of him Oikawa!” Iwaizumi was trying to mediate him, he knew his friend always experienced emotions to the extreme.

Iwaizumi called the cops who got there in less than five minutes, Y/n gave her statement there and so did Oikawa. The police took the man with them and the other police car took the three teenagers home. Y/n held Oikawa’s throughout the whole ride, taming the flame sat in his heart.

When they reached home, the police told Y/n's parents what had happened. Her father dragged back by her mother when her dad attempted to go to the precinct while yelling "I'm gonna beat the shit out of him!" and the officer told him to "calm down."

The officer also said, "This young man has beaten you to that." He taps Oikawa's shoulder. Oikawa Tooru had earned Y/n's father respect, he immediately approved of the boy.

Her father looked at him with twinkling eyes, he knew Y/n was well-settled with a boy like him.

They grew even closer after the incident, a quiet understanding between the two of them knowing they liked each other but couldn't decide to make a move. They were both scared, they both knew how ambitious each of them were, they didn't wanna hold each other back.

She attended his practice matches and his official games, what can missing a few hours of revision even do? Can’t hurt that much.

Oikawa spent lost a few hours of his practice too, spending them with Y/n to study for subjects. They didn’t need each other’s help for anything, but it felt nice. A soothing feeling caressing their heart like it was cupped by a pair of gentle hands full of warmth.

To Oikawa, Y/n was balance. Y/n who gave him a space of haven when he wanted to avoid volleyball for a while, a space to stay when he plateaud. Y/n who reminded him there was life outside of volleyball, he'd long forgotten about the river near their house and Y/n reminded him of that again. Y/n reminded him of the beauty he'd long forgotten.

To Y/n, Oikawa Tooru was her selfishness. Tooru who gave her breaks in between her study session, Tooru who gave her time to forget about universities or grades. Tooru who gave her time to indulge in fun fairs, bowling alleys, or karaoke bars. Tooru reminded her of the silly child beneath her heart she'd always oppressed.

Y/n was watching the match between Karasuno and Seijoh, Seijoh won but the victory was laid on shaky ground. Oikawa felt threatened, a feeling he despised.

Though their victory was well celebrated, Oikawa was not yet relieved because there was still Shiratorizawa to go against. Oikawa's heart couldn't rest nor could Iwaizumi's. It was their second to last chance to attend Nationals, a big dream for a big fish stuck on a small pond.

The days before Shiratorizawa competed against Seijoh, Oikawa and Iwaizumi lingered for longer in the gym, along with a few first years. Oikawa's routine, one he's honed since he was a kid, refined it even further day by day.

Y/n watched him pour his heart into it all, gave him hope, and also watched him spiral when Seijoh seemed to be no match for Shiratorizawa again.

Oikawa didn't know what to do. He wasn't like the others, not like Miya Atsumu who gained recognition nationwide, not like Iizuna of Itachiyama Academy, he wasn't like those who reached Nationals. No matter how big he was in Miyagi, no matter how better he may be, no one will ever know his name because he's never stepped foot in the Tokyo dome.

That evening, the three walked home in silence, Y/n didn't dare break the silence because to them, this was comfort and understanding.

Before Y/n got inside of her front door, the captain begged. "Hold me, please." Tooru looked at her with pleading eyes. She did not hesitate to even give it to him, her arms wrapped around his waist, and his arms around her waist too. His chin laid on top of her head, taking a hold of her scent to calm himself down, he embraced her tighter.

Y/n was the only one who understood him perfectly. He didn't need to say anything. Just utter silence, warmth, and you. "Tooru, I know you gave it your all but just know, it maybe now, maybe tomorrow, a few months from now-- the fruits of your labour will come." After your words, you pulled away from him slightly, looked up at his tormented visage.

"I know it's hard to believe in it, but trust me it will come. Just like winter leaves and spring comes, things will change gradually and slowly." Tooru looked at you, hesitant of what to do next, he wanted to thank you but he knew he could express it another way.

His arms slowly slipped out of your waist, his roughened hands--evidence of his hard work, cupped your face, his right thumb caressing your cheek causing you to slightly lean on his palm, then his lips met yours. A gentle, sweet kiss, melting the melancholy away from his heart. It was steady, slow, just an exchange of love expressed physically.

Tooru brought you deeper in the kiss, mouth slightly more agape, slow slithering of tongues, slightly more sloppy than the start. Your hands wrapped around his neck after the kiss deepened, Oikawa Tooru felt like he was in cloud 9. Despite all of his losses, his one victory triumphed over everything.

Pulling away slowly, catching your breaths, you smiled at him. "Thank you, Y/n."

Untangling slowly from each other, the heat slowly rising from your cheeks when you realise what had just happened. "I think I'll go now, your brother looks like he wants to kill me." Oikawa chuckles whilst he looked at your brother who was peeking out of his bedroom window. "Goodnight, Y/n-chan" he leaned that and gave you a peck on the corner of your lips and whispering your name softly.

With that, the evening concluded with two teenagers who couldn't stop thinking about the shared kiss. The moon settled on the sky, watching over the dreams of those who slept, making sure they were kept safe so that no one would steal their desires.

The morning came, the bright light of the sun hid the figure of the moon. That day, and the every single day that came after, you and Oikawa began walking hands together in school. He carried your heavy books out of and to your locker, he watch your chess competition, you clung onto your title as grandmaster rightfully and Oikawa's heart would always swell of pride.

And you? You made sure Oikawa's water bottle never ran out during his solo practice, you would always pat the sweat on his face with your handkerchief which he would slyly give you a quick peck. When you'd bake sweet goods, you always added two scoops of protein and altered your recipe so that they'd befit his physique.

Iwaizumi knew you were good for Oikawa, he'd never been more thankful for the fact that someone changed him for the better good. Though, he'd never admit that in front of Loserkawa. Iwaizumi Hajime was proud of what they became.

The ship rocked yet sailed safely, that was until nature came with its lightnings and ruckus rain which broke the whole ship apart.

Y/n didn't know how this fight started. She didn't know when she started feeling these emotions. She didn't know when she started feeling frightened and insecure. Y/n never felt this before, and it threatened her whole being.

Y/n supported Oikawa with her whole being, if he'd had killed someone she'd find him the best lawyer and hide the evidence, if he had cried she would wipe her tears, and if he'd smile-- she would be there with him, holding his hand.

Graduation was only a month away, and Y/n could feel Oikawa's shifting behaviour. She didn't know if she was overreacting, but when she confronted him about it, Tooru told her "it's nothing, it's just in your head." So, she convinced herself for a few days.

The sinking feeling in her stomach, the kisses that begged her to shut up every time she wanted to question him, the robotic goodbyes, Oikawa Tooru was hiding himself from her. She knew it was bad to not trust or wait for Tooru, but the past month felt like she had a noose around her neck, a rocky chair below her feet. She was treading on rusted nails.

Tonight Tooru and Y/n were having a sleepover, Tooru was downstairs grabbing snacks for their movie night, waiting for the popcorn to finish in the microwave. Y/n was waiting in his bedroom, she took a glance at his study table and saw the piles of papers meaninglessly scattered. She sighed and her hands began to work, stacking the papers on a pile in different categories.

As she was about to throw away the papers that were obviously trash, she saw a crumpled paper in his bin that had a logo of a team that Tooru was a fan of. Y/n's body went cold when she saw that the piece of paper was from Club Atletico San Juan, his name written on the top left corner of the page congratulating him for getting in.

She knew what this was immediately. Hesitation. Y/n was holding Oikawa back, Tooru was being held back by her. All of it came rushing to her, the realisation that she was the reason why Oikawa faltered, she was the reason why Oikawa was straying from such a huge opportunity. It paused her breathing.

Y/n swallowed the spit in the back of throat. Y/n thought she knew Oikawa better, he was practical, calculative, ambitious, she knew that Oikawa couldn't have anything that would hold him back from his dreams.

It was a painful confession to make, Y/n was bad for him.

The following evening, Y/n had called Tooru over in the park, it was night and the sun had disappeared hours ago. Tooru arrived in his black joggers and grey hoodie, his hands tucked in his pockets, had he been the Tooru he was few months ago; he would have hugged her and asked her if she was okay.

"Tooru, let's stop this." Her own words trampled on her hardened heart. "I can't be here anymore." Oikawa's hands slipped out of his pockets, his shoulders felt weak all of a sudden. "I don't want this anymore." Every spit of her word stabbed her deeper.

"Y/n-chan, where's all this coming from?" He grabbed her hands gently, afraid that she might push him away if he touched her too fast or too harshly.

"You can't act like this Tooru, you're being unfair." Her eyes glossed, she looked up at him like everything had fallen apart. "You can't act like nothing's wrong when you've been hiding things from me." She didn't move away from his touch, she didn't want to. No, not yet. Just a few more seconds, at least a minute more. "How can you hide the fact that you were wanted to go Argentina." She didn't question him, just disbelief in her voice.

Tooru couldn't open his mouth. How could he possibly tell his one and only love that he may never come back until a few years later when he's the best version of him he could be for her. "Am I holding you back? "Did you think I was gonna leave you when you were gonna fly off?"

No, you weren't, he knew you'd wait for him and that was the scary part. "Tooru, how can you think of me like that?" He still couldn't open his mouth, he could only pull you in his arms and soothe your back. You couldn't pull away, you still couldn't.

"I'm sorry. It's not like that, I swear it's not like that Y/n-chan." His voice paced, panicked. "I'm sorry for making you feel scared, please forgive me. I know I wasn't saying much, I know that I avoided you, please forgive me." Tooru held you tighter, you were slipping away like water in between the gaps of his fingers.

But you pulled your hands away gently, preparing to let him go. "Tooru, we can't be together when I'm holding you back. You're Tooru because you chase your dreams, you're persistent, you're ambitious." He took a step towards you, but you took a step back. "I can't steal your dreams from you." The moon glistened over their heads, partially covered by clouds. "If that means breaking up with you then I'm prepared to do that."

Oikawa prayed that you were joking, but your saddened yet collected composure said otherwise. "Y/n-chan, you're not holding me back. I swear." He lied blatantly. Oikawa knew he could only have one over the other and he chose you; it wasn't sweet or endearing-- it was heart-breaking. How could he be so selfless just to make you happy?

"Don't say that, I know you. Why would you break your own heart for me?" Bejewelled gems fell from your eyes, dampening your soft cheeks as they streamed down, he wanted to approach you but your stance screamed at him, telling him to move away.

"I can't be the one holding you back Tooru, please forgive me." Oikawa didn't even get a word out of his cracking lips, he was confused. Confused as to why you cared more about his dream than he did. He never understood that night, was he that easy to push away?

Oikawa always believed relationships were fleeting, like a piece of paper floating along city roads, but your relationship with him was different. It was the kind of relationship he wanted to see through until his muscles depleted, until his back curved, until his skin sagged. He wanted to see the hard times and the good with you. He wanted to wake up next to you.

Oikawa Tooru simply loved you. What good was volleyball without you?

You? You had the same dreams too. You wanted to cheer for his games, you wanted to watch him rise when everyone else doubted him, you wanted to reach your dreams together but it seemed like you were the only one reaching yours. Staying with him was also breaking his heart slowly.

Graduation came, the cherry blossom petals dance around everyone as they took their pictures. From afar you watched him, the Seijoh 4 taking their photos, your heart ached a little but Tooru was officially heading off to Argentina. His dreams became your dreams too.

Oikawa Tooru will never know how much you prayed for him. He will never know how much your heart broke. He will never come to know how much you loved him. He will never come to know how his dreams became your dreams too.

He looked back at where you were, a scroll on his hand and his phone on the other. You were giggling with your friends, had he been a better man for you, you would have stood by him.

Argentina, a country full of sunshines, the country buzzed with excitement to a foreigner like Oikawa. It was new, refreshing, a reminder that he needed change. He got an apartment according to the contract he got from his club, he felt excited and nervous, a language foreign to his tongue was whispered in every corner of the street. He wished that he could tell you about it.

Tokyo, a city full of bright lights, the paths were filled with people, everyone's pace were hastened that it made yours too. The buildings looked down at you, stood in rows neatly. It wasn't like Miyagi's serenity--it was chaos, this city cornered you.

You were right, this city, this country didn't allow Oikawa to fly. Tooru was better off outside this country where he was miles away from you and hours ahead of you.

Your first month of lectures at med school was cutthroat, people didn't care if you didn't hear what the professor said, they didn't let you copy off of their notes when you were a few steps behind from writing. It was frustrating, you wished you could tell Tooru about it.

The next month you were able to catch up, the pace seemed normal to you now, you were proud of yourself for managing it well but you couldn't find someone to talk to. No friend to talk about the university workload, no one to talk to about how life drained you bit by bit.

Medschool chipped on your soul, by your second year of med school, it became harder to get out of bed, your curtains were always shut close, you had to drag your feet to the lecture halls. It was tiring yet fulfilling.

On your first year of residency, the food in your fridge was always expired, your cabinet was filled with instant ramen or canned tuna, it was no use to keep have an apartment when you were sleeping in the hospital for five days straight, your indoor potted plants gifted by friends at your housewarming party had turned withered. There was no life surrounding you.

You'd forgotten Tooru somehow, just like how one breathes, it remained yet became unnoticed. You always thought you forgot about him, more like prayed you did, you just pushed him at the back of your mind like you did with every single thing that made you human. Anger, sadness, frustration, joy, you made it all perish until all you could think about was the title of a 'doctor.'

On the other side of the globe, Oikawa Tooru played volleyball. The first month was annoying, his teammates hardly trusted him, doubted his tosses, doubted his skills, but he proved them all wrong when he became more and more refined day by day.

The language barrier made him uneasy, most of his teammates spoke in Spanish, they could speak English too but Oikawa learned textbook English and not volleyball specific English.

He missed Japanese food too, he always thought things he ate at home every week were boring but he began missing them after some time. The snacks he'd buy at the convenience store after school with you became rare here, it was hard to find Asian markets and the prices were always 5 times more. He missed everything about home, especially you.

Life flourished for Oikawa, he gained fame in Argentina after his first official match with the team. He silently thanked you, because you pushed him here. Oikawa finally understood that it was the hardest decision you have probably ever made, it was something his childish 18 year old self could have never comprehended.

Every interview, every endorsement, every touch of a ball in Argentina was all thanks to you. You were right, he would have never been truly happy without volleyball. He just kind of, scratch that, really wished you watched him as all of this happened.

A selfish part of him hoped that he still lingered in your head, do you randomly look for him in the crowd too? Do you feel his shadow like he feels yours? Do you search up his name like he does with yours? Do you sing his favourite song like he does with yours? When you close your eyes, do you see him like how he sees you in every dream? Do you miss him like how he misses you?

Does he haunt you like how you haunt him?

His teammates always ask him, "Are there no beautiful women in Argentina for you?" when they would go out to drink. "How can an attractive guy like you be so single?" He was the centre of their laughter, he'd always brush it off, he knew they didn't mean offence but his heart still beats for you. He knows that's something will never change. He wondered if that was the same for you too.

"No one seems to be my type." He'd joke back, everyone would burst out laughing but it was the truth.

"Our setter has high standards, eh?" Oikawa laughed with them hoping it would drown out your haunting presence.

Your co-residents made fun of you, always talking about how you only cared about work and was practically married to it. Every holidays you would go back to Miyagi and visit your parents, you travelled out of the country once when you graduated but that was it. No boyfriend. Drinking at bars alone. Meeting up with your friends when you all magically had a day off at the same time but that was it. To others, your life embodied loneliness but to you it was solitude built upon your pride.

You were finally in your last year of residency, the last year you'd get bossed around by doctors, the last year you'd tolerate disrespect from the doctors who blamed you for mishaps that wasn't even yours. You were going to be free in a few weeks.

Driving home at 1 a.m. wasn't nice, your eyelids are daring to close on you and the grip around the leathered wheel loosened as each minute passed. You were slowly regretting the choice of not leaving the hospital in a taxi.

You switched to another live broadcast to some stupid radio station that invited famous people, ranging from YouTubers to celebrities. As the current one about dogs caused your eyes to droop more.

"Mister Oikawa," You heart suddenly felt heavy like it did 7 years ago, "is it true that you're still single?" The interviewer spoke in English as this was an American broadcast.

"Yes." His voice was deeper when he spoke English, it carried his accent slightly a symbol of his home.

"Why?" The interviewer asked, that was what everyone wanted to know. Y/n waited for his answer impatiently.

"Me and my greatest love parted ways after I went to Argentina, she was the one who pushed me to it because I didn't wanna leave her." His voice carried his emotions, but masked it with confidence and professionalism.

"Oh! So you're still in love?"

"Yes." He replied with pride and solemn in his tone. She could hear his bittersweet smile across the radio waves.

"Do you have a message for her incase she's listening?" The interviewer suggested knowing this would be picked up by sport magazines well.

"Y/n-chan, I hope you're doing well." It was short and sweet, it was just like him. "Thank you for pushing me to my dreams." An interview meant for volleyball now turned to a love-sick, sappy interview.

You parked in your apartment building, leaned your forehead against the wheel and cried silently. "Damn you, Tooru. It's okay for me to have not moved on, but you should have." Your nails dug through the heel of your palm forming crescent shaped moon on your skin. "Just leave me be." You hated Oikawa because he was the only man who could ever make you hesitate and falter.

Not even med school or residency caused self-doubt, but he did. His voice, his soft visage, his laughter, his cries, his everything always made you pause and question if you were doing the right thing. You never once looked back at your decisions until he came around. You hated that he made you more humane and less practical.

Before you unlocked your car doors and head off to your apartment, you told yourself that you needed to see him once more so that you could get rid of his shadow for the rest of your life.

After three long dreadful weeks, your feet reached Tokyo's international airport, 1 large luggage on your right hand and one medium size on your left, your hand bag perched on top of your luggage as you checked in.

Walking inside the plane, they were mostly filled with Europeans whom you presumed to have visited Japan for vacation. When you watched the plane take off, you had asked yourself if this was what Oikawa saw too when he was leaving home. Maybe he felt more deeply than you did, perhaps he teared up a little knowing he'll only come here for visits and not to stay.

Guilt rested on your heart throughout the whole flight, you had pushed away Tooru so cattily without even giving him a chance to say anything, perhaps your immature 18 year old self should have spoken more to him softly rather than hanging him off a cliff. Perhaps, you should have sent that message of, 'have a safe trip.' Perhaps you should have taken him to the airport. Perhaps you should have never left him at all.

These thoughts were always home in your mind, thoughts that would surface every time you drank too much Smirnoff in your couch, or when you would wake up from dreams that included your endeavours with him.

When the plane finally landed in the soil of Argentina, the captain welcomed the people onboard and a few clapped which you refused to join.

You hailed a cab, spoke in English when you spoke to the driver as it was a language that was commonly used by the people of Argentina. He helped you carry your luggage on the truck and spoke to you in the cab. "So, what are ya here for?" He asked, a common thing to ask tourists.

"I am," you hesitated "visiting an old friend." Regret wrapped around your tongue.

"I see." He must not have noticed your saddened tone, which you inwardly thanked cause you wore your heart on your sleeve so easily when it came to Tooru. "Well, I hope ya enjoy it here. Very, very good food." He chuckles slightly.

"Very bad traffic though." You say as a joke.

"I know." The old man sighed then shook his head animatedly.

The rest of the ride was silent, the country was rich in colours, the sun was blazing down but was not humid like Japan which made the heat more tolerable. 'I wonder if Tooru drove along these roads too.' Your mind pondered off to him once again.

When you reached your hotel, you immediately took a shower and laid on your bed then turned on the TV. It immediately took you to a sports channel that was hyping up the fact that the Division 1 of Men's volleyball was commencing tomorrow, something that you already have a front-row seat ticket for.

Oikawa's face came on screen, his blue uniform, a colour that always looked amazing on his complexion, his top hugged his biceps tighter, his shoulders broader, his jaw sharper, one thing that hasn't changed was his hardened gaze when it came to volleyball.

The sun settled later than it would have in Japan, the sunset was a gradient of orange and purple which left you in a state of sublime. For a moment, all you could think about was the beauty of this land, your burdens left your shoulders and you breathing became slower. The world was truly beautiful.

You weren't excited to see Tooru, but maybe if you'd sleep a little earlier you would get to see him quicker. Maybe, just maybe.

When you woke up the next morning, you prepared yourself and ordered room service for breakfast. It was a simple omelette garnished with parsley to make it look more appealing, the silver cutlery has no water stains, the coffee served with it wasn't made up of instant coffee but made from Moka pot which you could immediately differentiate by the taste.

The morning was slow, every passing minute felt like a drag, it was hard to choose the clothes you wanted. A part of you wanted to impress Tooru by wearing a good choice of clothes. A pink-printed floral dress that swayed like silk in the air, the dress had a built-in corset which pushed out your chest slightly, the dress ended on your ankles, a simple white closed toe stiletto to pair your dress.

Your heels were low, not even two-inches which made sure you could walk around it the whole day, the strap of your bag hang on your shoulder which you gripped on tightly as you walked through the ground. You hated crowds, it made you anxious cause it felt like you couldn't see anything ahead of you but the heads of people that were above your height.

However, the sight in front of you eased your anxiety. There were little kids holding banners of Tooru's names, wearing his jersey number, they dragged their parents through the crowd so that they immediately reach their seats inside the stadium. You were proud of what he became, and suddenly you knew that your decision wasn't a mistake. This was the life Oikawa Tooru deserved.

When you found your seat, the seat at the very front row which gave you the best view to watch him play. All of a sudden, you were eighteen again and cheering him on from the stands of a smaller gymnasium but now everything has changed.

Oikawa was the second to walk in the stadium, the number 17 written boldly on his chest, his chest huffed out as he took his routinely deep breaths before the game started.

Oikawa felt something unusual, a familiar feeling from 7 years ago but decided to push it aside knowing this was a very important game.

Tooru had an old habit back in the days, he'd search for you in the crowd filled with thousands of people. It was a habit he had to kill because it dismayed him day by day knowing you'll never step foot on this soil. He knew that the match against Karasuno was the last you've ever seen him set or serve.

The game began, the referee blew his whistle and within the given eight seconds, Oikawa sent his serve on the other side of the net which landed cleanly on the vertex of the white lines. A roar from the crowd emerged, "There you go ladies and gentlemen! Number 17, Oikawa Tooru landing a service ace!" He'd never get used to the satisfaction of landing a powerful hit.

By the third serve, the opposite team sloppily received Oikawa's serve. "Damn them." You utter beneath your breath. The ball was sent over the net back and forth for multiple times until it landed on C.A San Juan's side which ended Oikawa's serves.

Tooru didn't lose his composure, he watched them carefully, communicated with his team which glances and unspoken trust every time he set the ball to one of them. You knew little about volleyball, but Oikawa's growth was obvious. There were less unnecessary steps between his movements to save his energy.

You smiled every time Tooru's hands touched the ball, this was his dream, your dream too. You felt like you didn't need to talk to him anymore, to you this was enough, seeing him play for a major league was enough.

"That number 17 is so darn annoying!" The old man beside you grumbled.

"Ain't he?" You replied with a smirk. "He's just an amazing player." Your arms crossed on your chest, you felt like boasting Oikawa.

"Whatever lil' lady. C.A San Juan will lose today." The man huffs, but when you turned your head at the scoreboard, the difference was vast. You didn't need to say anything more to a stubborn fan of a losing team.

The first set was taken by C.A San Juan, but the second was handed to the opposite with a 3 point difference. By the third set, Oikawa was running out of energy. The pressure was extra hard on this match, C.A San Juan may have been the number one team at the moment but they were going against the ones who were just below a rank. There was barely a difference in skill.

The setter moved around the most, strategised the most, and held the burden of carrying the rest of the team. The ball was falling in front of him, but his body could barely react with all the thoughts running in his head. What should he do if he successfully prevents the ball from touching the ground. Who should he set it to? "Tooru, move!"

Oikawa moved immediately, he lunged towards the ball and did a low-set towards the middle blocker. The ball went over their side, earning them a point successfully. He knew that voice, the voice of a guardian angel that prayed for him silently from afar, he knew whose voice of frustration that could only come from. So, when he turned his head to his left he saw you.

The world stopped spinning for a second, you were watching him. Tooru's head snapped back in the game when the referee blowed his whistle again. He'll finish this game in five minutes for you. He just wanted to see your face as soon as possible.

There was a shift in the air when Oikawa knew you were here, he played more efficiently and calmly. His play more aggressive, forced his teammates to move faster at his command just so he could see you. Those who sat by the bench noticed it too, how their setter changed when the woman from the crowd called him amongst the rest of the spectators.

The game ended dramatically, Oikawa setting it to the most unpredictable person and used a quick attack he had mimicked from his junior. The final whistle blew, the referee pointed the point to his side of the court. The cheers from the crowd grew stronger, the banners waved, yet it the jeers and cheers dissolved when he saw your countenance smiling at his victory.

Normally, the team would huddle together in victory but Oikawa's feet magnetised him to you. The cameras followed the MVP of the match wondering why he was running off the court, his long legs leapt over the barrier, he could only see you and no one else at that moment. Something on you could do to him.

You were bad for him. So bad, because every time you stood by him all he wanted was you. You made him so desperate for you. "Tooru!" You yelped when his arms wrapped around you instead, his knees kissing the ground as his head was laying on top of your lap, your hand brushed against his hair dampened by his hard work and labour.

The crowds cheers simmered down when they saw their favourite setter hug a woman. "Don't pull away just yet. If you're here to tell me you've found someone else and that I should move on. Let me be a bit more selfish, you'd want that too, right?" He spoke in Japanese, a language he'd only speak over calls with his friends and family over call but now he was speaking it with someone in front of him. You always brought home to him.

You forgot why you even came here, forgot the fact that you were here to erase memories and not to make some more. "No, of course not." Your comfort was a familiar feeling. You guys peeled away from each other after a long awaited 30 seconds. His teammates and opponents looked at him wide-eyed.

Oikawa Tooru, famous for never batting an eye to a woman in the volleyball scene just hugged a woman in front of the stadium, in front of the camera crews that was being broadcasted internationally and nationally. "Go back to your team, I'll be here. I promise." He got up from the ground, his steps stuttered as he looked back at you-- afraid you'll leave his sight.

Once the celebration was over, once the journalists and camera crew has finished asking questions about the game and about you, once he's finished signing the autographs of the little kids that admired him. He came back to you, most people had left the stadium but you stayed and waited.

Just like when you were 18, Oikawa Tooru would grab your hand gently and walk you just outside of the changing rooms to wait for him. "Don't say anything yet because if I hear another word from you, I might cry." Oikawa was nervous, he didn't know what to say or do. He just wanted to hold you.

His teammates looked at you funny, funny in a way that they knew they were gonna tease their favourite setter in the changing room. They nudged at each other, wriggled their brows at you like middle schoolers. Their outside hitter gave you a nod of approval with a smug grin which caused your cheeks to warm up. You were a bit shocked at how their build contrasted their personality.

You lingered outside the changing rooms while Oikawa wore his windbreaker and you could hear his teammates tease him about you. Oikawa yelled at them to stop because his cheeks reddened each time they fed his head with delusions.

"Sorry about that." He apologised, but it was clear as day that he enjoyed it. "Let's not talk here, Y/n-chan." He led you to the parking lot, and asked the coach driver to open up the doors for him. The driver looked at Oikawa, an upside down grin on his lips, he gave you guys a thumbs up and a wink to Oikawa.

You guys sat towards the middle of the coach, Oikawa made you take the window seat because no way in hell were you gonna run away from him again. He won't let you, unless he knew you were definitely gonna be happy without him, unless you were truly better off without him.

Oikawa wanted to barrage you with questions of why you never let him stay with you, why you never responded to his messages or emails, why you asked Iwa-chan to never tell him how you were faring. The setter wanted to get mad at you. "How are you?" His voice barely a whisper, a silent cry that he didn't manage to suppress.

He inspected you carefully, dark bags hung below your eyes, your movements slow, each time you blinked your eyes it seemed like you were forcing them to open. "I'm getting by." Why do you want to reassure him? He hates you. He truly did because you looked like you were one push away from the gates of heaven. You looked like you haven't slept properly nor gotten the right amount of sunlight.

"How about you, Tooru?" Why the hell were you so worried about him when your body was breaking apart right before his eyes. He was in excellent physique, you looked like you were going to pass out from just 20 minutes of walking for fuck's sake.

"I'm not great. I'm just alright, Y/n-chan." He took your hands, surrounded it with his roughened palms. Your hands were gentle as ever, something that your career needed. They needed your gentle touch, your light hands, nimble, precise and quick. His on the other hand required his raw power, harshness, unwavering cruelty to slam the ball down.

You wanted to get it out of your chest, the words you should've said immediately when you left him. "I'm sorry, I should have talked it over with you--" Your beating heart became erratic, you were just one more beat away from a cardiac arrest.

Oikawa thought he'd relish when he heard those words, he thought he'd feel better but he wanted something else. "Why should I forgive you?" He watched your chest stop rising. "I know you. I know that all you did was push me out of my comfort, to remind me of my petty pride, to remind me that I was stuck in Miyagi." His thumbs brushed the back of your palms, he didn't meet your eyes even when you waited for his gaze.

"I don't resent you. I never have, and I never could. You believed in me when I faltered. You gave up your happiness just so I could stop hesitating." He slowly looks at your eyes, his tears threatening to fall from his ducts. "You made the greatest sacrifice for me." Suddenly, the feeling on your chest disappeared.

Those emotions you could never explain, those reasons that felt like was incomprehensible he understood so perfectly. Why did he have to be the only guy to understand you. Why did he still love you after those arrow-headed words. Why did he have to be so kind. Tears fell from your face, it pained Oikawa to see you like that. To him, he was always the reason for your crying.

"Your heart's always so gentle." You removed your hands from his grip, he expected you'd let go again but this time both of your hands cupped his cheek. He rubbed his cheek onto your palm, holding your left hand in place with his right hand. "You're painfully kind, Tooru."

Oikawa loved holding intense eye contact with you, a symbol of his intimacy and love, it made your heart flutter every time. "Only for you, Y/n-chan. I promise." Unwavering loyalty. "Hey, hey..." He says softly when your crying worsened, each tear that left your eyes made his heart sink further. "Forgive me, Y/n-chan." He says incessantly hoping you'd calm down cause his heart was aching too.

"Tell me what you want, please." He pulls you to his chest, his heart racing more, he couldn't stand seeing you cry. "I'll do whatever you want, so please don't cry anymore." Every diamond that slipped from your tear ducts caused his coronary muscles to contract.

"I know it's selfish but--" You looked at him with begging eyes. "Tell me, tell me that I can stay with you." Your biggest hardship in life wasn't the entrance exam for med school, it wasn't the medical licence exam, it wasn't when you moved out your sweet abode to Tokyo. It was watching Tooru leave and prosper without you.

"You can stay with me for how long you want. If you're tired and feel like leaving everything, stay with me. You don't need my permission to stay Y/n-chan, there's always been a spot for you here." Tooru who knew your self-doubts, Tooru who knew you were insecure when you thought you weren't amazing as him, Tooru who learnt that you thought you were a burden.

"I promise I'll carry you along wherever I go, I'll never make you choose between your happiness and my dream again." You continued to cry in his chest until you stopped, his heartbeat against your ears-- a pleasure you haven't experienced in a millennia. The soft drums from his chest decelerated, your lids slowly shut themselves as you fall asleep from the soft taps on your back.

10 minutes after that his teammates entered the coach and took pictures of the mystery woman sleeping on Oikawa's shoulder. Oikawa knew he couldn't stop them, he just hoped that you wouldn't wake up to their teasing.

"Oikawa's finally gonna get engaged boys!" Their captain laughed. Gosh. Oikawa loved their teasing.

They arrived at their hotel which was only a 30 minute drive from the stadium, Y/n was carried by Oikawa out of the coach, his muscles flexed as he carried her towards his hotel room. The receptionists, janitors, guests watched the prince carry his princess to his chambers. Tooru was worried about your face getting leaked online so his friends who understood his dilemma about Y/n's face getting leaked online gathered around Oikawa so that they couldn't even get a glimpse of your face.

Those who recognised Oikawa, which was everyone, took pictures and scrambled on their phones and uploaded it to every single one of their social media platforms. When they reached the elevator, they could finally relax and pressed the top level floor, the doors creating a 'ding' when it open and closed.

His teammates walked Oikawa to his hotel room, which was odd but he paid no mind. "Goodnight sleeping beauty." His captain says. They were all excited for Oikawa.

Tooru carried you in his hotel room, removed your heels swiftly from your feet. He didn’t like that you wore heels that suffocated your feet, sure you looked wonderful but he’d have preferred if you were comfortable more than anything.

He laid you down on the comfort of his bed, the blanket over your shoulders, and placed your shoulder bag on the nightstand. He couldn’t care about anything else at this moment, not the PR manager who’s probably gonna question him, or maybe the fact that Iwaizumi was calling him right now most likely about the fact that he ran up to you after the match.

This second. This minute. This hour. This very moment closed the twelve hour bridge between you two. He sat on the edge of the bed, watching your chest rise up and down, a sight he’d want to wake up to every morning without a fail.

After volleyball, you became the very dream he’d prayed for. Something he couldn’t hone or practice for, your relationship was indefinite unlike volleyball. Good outcomes weren’t guaranteed, so every little thing was a miracle to Oikawa Tooru who’s done nothing but yearn for you for the past seven years.

As selfish as it sounds, Oikawa Tooru wanted to trap you here and wished you never woke up, he wished that the seconds won’t slip through his large hands. He just wanted to have you in arms again. "I want to keep you here." The tips of his fingers grazed your skin slowly, he didn't want to wake you up cause you'll leave him in this meadow you created.

"You're cruel." His voice rubbed against the back of his throat, his own words shadowed his intentions. "You always, always, make me wait and I hate that I do."

During the arduous 7 years where you were gone had him driving by places you would have loved. He looked at paintings you would have loved. He drank and ate the food you would have loved. He did everything you would have loved, just to have a sliver of you with him.

He knew he was forcing the red strings, but what was love without work? Fate, luck, chance, were all superficial to him. Everything he possessed was a product of his work, if he had to work off his bones just to have you then he will. Nothing will ever tire him from you.

Tooru placed his head on your thighs, after he sat on the cream-coloured, cushioned seat. His hand gripped yours tightly so that he'd wake up from his dreams incase you ran away again. No one could could protect his dreams, not the promising moon, not the deities. How can anyone possibly steal what's in his hand when he was holding you so tightly.

A few hours passes by, 23.53 hits the clock. You rise up from the bed, a weight on your legs which you gave curiosity causing you to look at it. It was Tooru. You removed your hand from his vice-grip, the heat accumulated over the hours of touch slowly dissipating. You pushed back his dark locks that tickled his face, your fingers running through his scalp.

He wakes up panicked, the dim light of the hotel room looking basking on your faces, his pupils were shaking when he woke up and realised that the warmth from his hands slipped away. "Tooru," there it was, the voice of his dearest one "don't worry, I'm here."

"Sorry." He says bashfully.

No, you were sorry. Your heart crimped when it dawned upon you how Oikawa Tooru looked like he was stepping in eggshells when he thought you vanished again. "I won't leave, not again." It was your turn to comfort him now.

"I betrayed my own feelings. I betrayed us. I'll be more stubborn this time, I'll hold you tighter." Oikawa sucked in a deep breath, your words stood with a deep foundation, something hurricanes could never blow with their seeming harsh blusters. "I love you more than anything. I promise, I won't work things out by myself again." You took his hands and rested it upon the blanket where your thighs were, patted it like you would to a crying child.

"I'll make things more difficult for you. I'll whine when you're away from me." He cackled between his tears, the tips of his nose reddened and he could already feel the fact that he was getting nasally blocked. "I'll be a part of everything you've dreamt of."

Your gentle Tooru that broke easily in your comfort, you ungrounded the fences on his heart, you lightened every heavy boulders on his shoulders.

"Tell me that you'll be there at every match." He holds onto your shoulders but he wasn't harsh, he just wanted you to look directly at him-- he wanted to know for sure.

"I will be there. I promise." Something so menial made him feel so much, more than his heart could bear.

Oikawa stood up ripped the blanket off, carried you and wrapped your legs around him, he sat on the edge of the bed and looked up at you. He wanted to tell you the three words he's dreaded to say but they were lodged at his throat. Just like 7 years ago, he took you by the lips, but the kiss was aggressive and passionate. He was catching up on every possible minutes accumulated over the years where he would have kissed you.

Your fingers automatically attaches to his hair, tugging it slightly as he got more and more aggressive. His hand rubbed against your bare legs, the skirt of your dress slowly rising with each touch. "Open." You complied willingly, following how he wanted it.

His large palm held your head in place keeping it steady, he moves away from your lips and kisses the spot between your neck and collarbone before sucking it causing a small whimper to escape your lips. Your hand holds his jaw, hoping to reconnect with his lips again which he immediately picked up on.

Oikawa loved this, the close proximity, the kiss he's imagined for so long, he loved how you were with him again. He loves your warmth against his. He loves your presence right beside him. He just loves you so much it feels like he can't contain it any longer.

You place your hands on his chest, signalling you needed to breathe, he pulls away, his hands on your hips and looks at you lovingly. "I love you so much, Y/n. I love you too much that I feel like my days are empty without you." He was dazed with you, he wanted to drunken his emotions and days with you.

"I love you too, Tooru." You reciprocate his words. "I love you so much my heart is chipped every time you're gone. I never realised how much it felt so wrong without you up until now." You gave his shoulders a squeeze, a sign of reassurance.

"Stay with me, Y/n." How could you not when he looked at you as if his whole world will crumble now if you'd reject him. You could never say no to Tooru, not ever again, your heart can't handle running away from him again.

"I'll be here, now and forever." You press your forehead against his, closed your eyes and indulged in your desire.

"I promise to make you the happiest woman, I promise to love you more than the whole universe can love you." His hands moved from your hips, his arms now wrapped around your back. A deep breath escapes his lips, feeling more relieved more than ever. "I'll love you more than love, cherish you, take care of you until my last breath is you."

The clock hits 00.00. The day anew. This once derelict love will repaired slowly with time and effort. The sun, the wind, the rain will always be different from yesterday, it will change ever so slightly. Time is not a source of remedy, but a moment for reflection, to understand what went wrong, to change what happens the following minute, hours, days, or years.

Tenko. His name echoed in his own head, a visage of his sister crumbling plays out like a broken film. A sudden itch on his neck for the fifth time in the minute, pieces of his skin stuck under his untrimmed nails. ‘Someone please help me.’ He couldn’t drag the words from the back of his throat, they came out as a pitiful croak paired with a loud sniffle. He closed his eyes, wandering aimlessly, maybe the middle of the busy road would be a good destination

One step. Two steps. Three steps. He can hear the cars, speeding past him. Digging his fingers onto his dainty palm, he’s ready, ready to die. It’ll be fine now. He can atone for his sins, everything will be fine now. One step into the black tarmac, another one, awaiting for an impact. However, a soft palm came across his arm, pulling him away from his despair. “Hey kid, are you alright? What’s your name?” In front of him was a woman, the sun shone on her face, a soft smile that melted away his gloom.

“Tenko.” His hands bloodied. “I killed them. I didn’t mean to. I swear.” Continous breaks in his words, his croaked voice a dead giveaway of his stammering composure. Not even a second later, crystalline tears formed in his eyes, waterworks spilling out like a broken fire hydrant.

She crouched down in front of him, wiping away the blood on his hand, the back of his hand on top pf her palm. He removed his hand defensively, almost by instinct, he didn’t want to hurt anyone else. “Don’t worry, I’m not easily hurt!” She raised her arm, flexing her non-existent muscle. In that very moment, Tenko was sure that this woman was the warm sunshine in the cold winter, the sunshine everyone looked forward to in the spring. Yes. He was sure of it. This woman was his hero.

She stood up and offered her hand, he wanted to hold it, he really did but he retracted his hand in fright for her safety. It must be because his quirk’s activation is through his hands. “Would you grab onto my bag then? We wouldn’t want you lost now.” A white leathered crossbody bag with golden chain and a small keychain— a cute little All Might keychain, a keepsake from an old friend. He latched onto her bag with only two of his fingers touching, he followed her, his trust on her palms.

Then, they arrived in front of a small clinic which resembled a traditional Japanese home more than anything. Tenko talked with the doctor who was a middle aged woman who gave him a lollipop after his checkup. Meanwhile, Y/n was outside on the call with cops talking about the boy she just found. He was easily traced back to the Shimura residence in which the police quickly dispatched some officers to assess the situation.

The doctor then quickly explained to her what was his quirk and its activation requirements after a few tests. She wrapped a bandage around his pinkies to prevent his quirk from activating. “Tenko let’s go shopping!” She carried him, his bottom resting on her arm. Tenko remained quiet, he didn’t know how to respond to this bright light. Shall he blink his eyes and hide from it? Or shall he admire it and accept its warmth? He had no choice but to take that captivating warmth.

Firstly, she took him to the kids clothing section. She bought him necessities, a few pair of pants, and a couple shirts, of course some onesies too! She knew that he wasn’t in the mood for dress up but took notice of which clothes seemed to cause a crease in the skin between his brows and which ones widened his eyes.

Off to the shoes section! “May I have red shoes please?” He looks at the vibrant crimson shoes, which happened to be the most expensive and popular in the section. His eyes suddenly looked towards the price tag, “Nevermind!” He quickly said, he didn’t want to be a burden or seem picky.

Y/n was quick to pick up where his eyes went and knew that he was probably worried about the price, it was a mature thing to think of but she didn’t want him to be like that. Children should act spoilt as much as they can. “What a nice eye you have Tenko! Is there anything else you want?” He shook his head. To be honest, Tenko wanted everything but he was satisfied with that. As long as this nice lady was with her, he’ll be satisfied. “These shoes aren’t great for running, let’s grab you one more pair.” Tenko’s eyes widened, he felt like a child with a mom who loved spoiling him.

“That one please.” He pointed at a white pair of running shoes which lit up when it was to be stomped. She puts on the shoe trying out if it was his size. He was too shy to say that it wasn’t his size and it seemed to deplete most of his energy when he did. “I don’t think it’s my size.” He released a deep breath after she took her attention to the saleswoman and asked for a smaller size.

“A kid also needs boots for rainy days, am I right?” She looked at Tenko and smiled. Tenko was amazed, no one has ever smiled at him consecutively, his amazement nearly brought him to his tears but he bit back his sobs and enjoyed the fleeting moment.

Y/n was carrying the shopping bags while holding Tenko’s hand. “Say Tenko, what kind of toys do you want?”

“Um…” He didn’t know. He had a lot in mind. He wanted a lot. “Please pick for me.” Y/n formed a faux disappointed pout. She picked up an All Might plushie which was a trend amongst her students, “This one?” She quickly picked up on his dismay. “How about this?” She picked up a dinosaur plushie instead in which received a delightful nod from Tenko. My mom is the kindest person in the world.

He looked at a car toy, but it wasn’t just any car toy. It was a car toy that does need batteries to move, it just needed to dragged onto the floor to create friction and stores kinetic energy. When released, the car’s kinetic energy is used up and releases thermal energy as waste and finally moves at a high speed. It was those kind of toy cars kids bragged about in the playground. “The toy car too please!” He accidentally yelped out, he didn’t mean to be so selfish, it just slipped out accidentally.

My mom kinda spoilt me and I grew out to be a little stubborn.

She picked up lots of things as well, toys for educational learning and some reading books for his bedtime stories. “Tenko should we go home now?” What an odd word for him, wasn’t his home the one he destroyed? If so, he didn’t want to go back. “My apartment’s a 30 minute drive from here, I think we have to hail a cab. Man ain’t that annoying, Tenko?” She looked down at him and watched him nod in agreement. She wanted to have a small conversation with him, to slowly distracting from his misery but it seemed that he was rather a little empty instead. Tenko chose to avoid it.

She’s also the most talkative, she also gets along well with my girlfriend and sometimes I forget that I’m her child. I bet that they’re making fun of me right now.

The drive back home was quiet, Tenko sat beside her and his head leaning on her arm, his eyes fluttering and threatening to close itself. He didn’t want to go to sleep, he’ll see them again. He didn’t want that, but with one small caress of her hand on his head, he drifted to wonderland.

When they arrived in front of her apartment, Y/n carried Tenko into the apartment first, placing him onto the couch and picked up the shopping bags. She decided to tap him lightly, after debating if she should bathe him or prepare dinner first. “Tenko, lovely, let’s go bathe you.” Tenko nodded while rubbing his eye.

She made sure the water was not too warm nor too cold, that the pressure of the water was not too strong especially because his skin was sensitive. “Close your eyes.” Tenko shut them firmly, he hated getting shampoo in his eyes, it was too painful. She massaged the shampoo on his scalp with soft touches. Although she was a teacher, she didn’t truly know how gentle she should be when it comes to bathing them.

Next, she lathered an oatmeal bar soap on his skin as recommended by the doctor. She was warned not to use anything with scented chemicals and made sure that everything was natural. After rinsing him with water, she took a fresh towel and patted his body dry before wrapping his body with it. “Thank you.” He muttered softly, he fiddled with his fingers and shied away from her gaze. She could only smile softly and ruffle his head, that must have taken all of his courage.

After dressing him up, she decided to go prepare dinner whilst Tenko played with the new toys and watch the TV. It turns out that he really liked Pingu, encapsulated by the small penguin who spoke an odd language.

Once dinner was prepared, Tenko was called into the kitchen. He had a special chair, three pillows stacked on top of each other so that he could reach the tall table. “Thank you for the food.” Y/n and Tenko said in unison however his voice was meek and barely audible. She had cooked popular dish popular amongst the population, katsu curry and served with the steaming white rice. That night, it became his favourite dish.

The night loomed over the sky, the moon casting its glow on every single house. “Good night, Tenko.” She tucked him into bed, leaving the night light on per his request. Tenko hated the dark. There were monsters in the dark.

“Will you please sing me a bedtime song?” Y/n felt tingly sensations all over her body, was this what her mother felt when she was kid?

You are my sunshine

My only sunshine

You make me happy

When skies are gray

You'll never know, dear

How much I love you

Please don't take

My sunshine away

By the end of the song, his eyes were shut close, he had a firm grip around his dinosaur stuffy, she watched his chest rise up and down leaving her heart at rest. Y/n never dreamt of being a mother, the pregnancy thing threw her off, she never dealt well with pain ever since she was a kid. However, this feeling satisfaction and an overwhelming feeling of warmness surged like a tsunami.

The next day, Tenko woke up to the aromatic scent of pancakes with the strong coffee bean roast he was quite familiar with. “Good morning Tenko! Have you brushed your teeth?”

She chirped like a bird even though it was so early in the morning, she was boisterous, her arms blustered around so much I thought she’d fly away. At that moment, I realised that I wanted to stay with her.

“Yes.” A weak response.

I hated loud voices, but I looked forward to mom’s everyday. One time I came back late from the arcade because I was hanging out with Touya and Hawks and she yelled at me. I never really understood it back then but she just cared for me. I guess I was a bit of a troubled kid.

“Do you like strawberries on your pancakes Tenko?” I never liked strawberries nor pancakes, I had no interest in anything but mom gave me something to love.

Pancakes, strawberries, dinosaurs, games, picnics. She gave me more than a home, she gave me gave me a place to be a child. When she had to take me to the orphanage, it seemed to break her heart more than it did to mine. I had only known her for two weeks but it felt like she was the one who gave birth to me.

“Tenko, I’ll visit you everyday. Just wait for me, m’kay?” Tenko didn’t want her to leave he wanted to hold her sleeves but he couldn’t. He didn’t want her to turn like his family. She took off the All Might keychain off her bag, “This is my lucky charm, this is veryyy precious to me. So when I’m not here, this lil guy will watch you for me.” She couldn’t help but develop maternal feelings, it wasn’t pity, it was a desire to protect the child. She kneeled in front of him, giving him a hug, this kid needed it than anyone. “It’ll take a little while, but I’ll bring you home, Tenko. I promise.”

There were no promises she did not keep. That’s what was so admirable of her. Moms are like superheroes, aren’t they?

A month later, after the long process of paper works and what not. Y/n brought Tenko home. “Welcome home Tenko!” He wore a yellow party hat with white polka dots. There was a huge banner across the living room which read, ‘Welcome Home’. It felt like sunshine on a cold winter morning.

Tenko finally got to sit in that dining table once again, and he will continue to do so from now on. Y/n placed a piece of deboned fish on top of Tenko’s bowl, it reminded him sort of his biological mother, his mom wasn’t a bad mom— she just never protected him from dad.

They were complex feelings a 5 year old couldn’t comprehend. Even when hatred bloomed in Tenko’s heart, a part of him said to himself that the man was still his father; he craved his attention like it was water yet also detested his gaze. “Tenko, sweetheart, are you alright?” Tenko’s vision slightly warped, next thing he knew his cheeks were wet, he was being hugged by this woman while being softly patted on his back.

His tiny fists gripped on her blouse, wrinkling it slightly, he buried his face on her and wailed, “Mom!” Chanting the word over and over again like it was an incantation. Tenko didn’t know if it was right to call her mom, but he did. He didn’t know if it meant that he betrayed his biological mother but this woman felt like his mom. She felt like a warm blanket in a cold winter, a sudden shower mid-summer, a bluster of gale in the dry summer. He knew that she was mom.

“Tenko, you’re fine now. You’re home now.” Right. This is home. “Hush now, sweetheart.” She carried him in her arms swiftly and sat down on her chair. She sang his favourite song, ‘you are my sunshine’ in a sweet melodious voice lulling him to sleep. Tenko cries began to cease to hiccups, his eyes became swollen, his lashes clumped together due to his tears. His grip on her blouse began to loosen when his eyes began to close.

Y/n took him to his newly designed room, it was a shame he couldn’t see it yet. His bed frame was of a sports car, there was a basketball hoop stuck on his door, a small tent just a few feet away from his bed with stuff toys inside, boxes of legos ready to be built by him, and some toy cars. Y/n slowly put him on his bed, tucking him in under the blue sheets, brushing away the hair on his face. She kisses his forehead and was ready to leave until his tiny fist clung onto her, “Mommy, please don’t go.”

That day, Y/n swore to herself that she’d help her son get back up on his feet, to make sure that he never feels this way. How could a boy think that his mother leave him? That was too cruel. “Yes Tenko, mommy’s here.” Y/n hands found her way on Tenko’s head, her palm repeatedly caressing his head. “Oh my sweet child.” She mumbles as she watches his chest rise up and down. “The root of my life.” Y/n never felt any sort happiness like this until she had Tenko, her one-month pregnancy was sure tough but it was worth the wait.

Never in her 20 years of living had she thought that the mere sound of his breathing would the sound to bring her to sleep, it soothed her nerves like it was the smoothness of fine silk. “My son, my sweet treasure.”

The next day was Tenko’s first day of his new preschool. A different place meant different people and Tenko was feeling extra nervous that morning. “Tenko, wake up now.” Tenko felt her palm softly hitting his stomach to wake him up. His eyes blinked opened, the light hitting his eyes causing him to shut it quickly.

“Good morning, mom.” He greeted softly, slowly getting up from the bed using the heel of his palm as a support.

She replied in a cheery tone paired along with her bright smile. “Good morning, Tenko!” She ruffled his hair, finding his bed hair cute. “Let’s go take a shower now.” She stands up and waited for Tenko to follow her whilst he fought back from his back kissing the bed again.

Tenko walked into the bathroom a few moments later, he was still not ready to take a shower but he did not want to disappoint his mom.

“Is the water too cold?” She asked as soon as the water hit Tenko’s skin, he shook his head firmly and closed his eyes so that water wouldn’t go in them.

“Are you excited for school Tenko?” Tenko didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know if he’d have friends or if people would find him weird or gloomy. He had fears which a typical 5 year old would not have.

While she helped Tenko shower, she babbled about what to do and not do in school. She told him to be a “good boy” and that he should listen to his teachers.

When they had arrived in school, Tenko became indecisive. He didn’t want to leave his mom’s sweet abode, he was scared to meet new people. “Mom I don’t wanna go.” Tenko gripped on the straps of his backpack tightly, his nails scratching against the fabric.

She crouched in front of him, not caring about how hard it was due to her black pencil skirt. “Are you scared?” She asked which he nodded his head to. “Sweetheart, don’t worry, the kids are really nice here. If not, you can tell mommy and we’ll find you a different school.”

She took his small, soft hands and caressed it with her thumb. “Besides mommy will be there at the start and see how it goes.” Tenko nodded at her words. To others it may seem like empty words that mothers say to their children just to stop them from whining, but in reality mothers do their best just to see their kids smile.

“What if I don’t make any friends?” Tenko sulked, he hated being alone more than anything. He hated it how there was an indescribable ache in his heart when he feels such strong emotions.

“Why would anyone not befriend such a nice and cuuuuttteeee person?” She pinches his cheeks slightly causing Tenko to feel a bit shy. Tenko felt shy, it was like this as well when old grandmas complimented him in the park; he kind of liked the attention. It made him feel loved.

My mom helped me regain my confidence, she helped me ask out the love of my life and helped me make friends.

“Good morning, L/n-san.” A soft voice said from behind, she immediately recognised who that voice belonged to. She turned her head to look back, and knew it would be the snow haired woman with a delicate yet cold stare.

She stood up properly to greet her and Tenko quickly hid behind her legs. “Good morning, Todoroki-san. This is my son, Tenko.” She nudged at the boy behind her. “Could that be Touya-kun?” Y/n immediately took notice of the vibrant crimson haired boy who stood beside Rei.

“Ah yes! Touya, say hi.” Rei urges to greet Y/n and her son who introduced himself with such great confidence.

“I’m Touya! What’s your name?” Dabi is my great friend. We met as kids cause we were at the same kindergarten.

“My name is Tenko.” He slowly slid out behind his mom’s legs, and made direct eye contact with the turquoise eye coloured boy.

“Touya, I hope you take care of Tenko-kun here.” Rei said to Touya which slightly comforted Y/n worries of Tenko being a lonely child.

“Of course! A hero takes care of civilians!” Touya exclaimed in pride which made the two mothers giggle.

“Hey! A hero doesn’t need to take care of another hero!” Tenko argued, his voice slightly getting louder at the end causing Rei and Y/n to laugh a little more.

“You wanna be a hero too?” Touya questioned with great eagerness and enthusiasm. He was pretty loud and boastful as a kid. He hasn’t changed at all.

“Yes! Do you?” Tenko’s eyes twinkled at the new, profound friendship he knew was about to bloom.

Touya clenches his fists and nods his head with passion. “You bet I do!” The two mothers smiled at the sight, a feeling of warmth sinking in their hearts.

My mom was the reason I wanted to become a hero. When no one reached out their hand for me and when I had given up, she took my hand and forced me out of the darkness.