#daishou

When the first break runs around and you start handing out water bottles she slinks up beside you, asking for Suguru’s. You’re more than glad you don’t have to give it to him, couldn’t stand the risk of touching him right now. 

You manage not to talk to him about anything other than volleyball until training ends.

He leaves quickly, aiming to walk Mika home. You stay behind.

“You okay?” Sō asks quietly as you gather your things.

“Mhm,” you nod, “Just peachy. Thanks for asking.”

“I don’t like her,” he promises and you snort. “You don’t have to. If he wants to get himself a girlfriend, that has nothing to do with me. She might be nice, you know. It’s not her fault he’s the way he is.”

Sō nods, but he doesn’t seem convinced. He asks if you want to walk home together but you decline. The quiet will do you good.

- 5/4

“Well, you stink,” Daishou declares with an air of finality. He’s small for a five year old, you’re almost the same height.

You don’t blink. He starts to grow anxious, his legs twiddling as if he has to pee.

“Why aren’t you crying?” He asks, clearly annoyed you don’t react like anyone else he’s met before.

“I was waiting if you’d come up with something better,” you say, “But I should have known you don’t have any good ideas.”

“Hey!” He yelps, “That’s not fair! That was a good insult!”

You snort and his lip starts to quiver.

“No way,” someone whispers behind you, “Is Daishou going to cry? What a whimp.”

“I’m not a whimp!” Daishou declares, eyes already reddening. “Take that back.”

You turn your best lazy stare at the person who had muttered that insult. In less than a second he backs away. You might not be a pretty little girl like your mother wanted, but you know how to keep the boys at bay.

“Come,” you take Daishou’s hand and pull him toward the far edge of the playground, “I’m gonna teach you some cool insults.”

- 18/17

“What do you want?” You ask instead of a greeting. Suguru snorts into the phone.

“Wow, what hellhole did you crawl out today?”

“It’s called a period, thank you very much.” That’s a lie. But he doesn’t like that topic, so it’s always safe.

“Whatever,” he grunts, “I just wanted to ask what you think about Mika.”

“I’m not into her if that’s what you’re asking.”

He gasps before laughing. “That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

“How did that even happen?” You ask, hoping against hope that he doesn’t hear the despair lacing your voice. He needs to believe you don’t care. “Did you pay her to do it?”

“Excuse me?!” Suguru’s affronted. “I don’t have to pay girls- You know I could-” He sighs before starting anew. “She asked me out. Can you believe it? I never had a cute girl like me before.”

That stings. But, you try to comfort yourself, he doesn’t know you like him. So maybe you’re still a cute girl in his head. Just not one he’s interested in.

“Miracles happen every day,” you tell him, working around the clog in your throat, “But I need to get going, okay? I still have homework to do.”

“Oh, okay, sure. I’ll see you in the morning. We can walk to school.”

“Yeah, okay.” You hope he forgets. 

He doesn’t.

.

Suguru’s always been touchy. He was the kid who sat on his mother's lap until she pushed him off and though he made you swear on your life that it didn’t happen, he used to be the one grabbing your hand on the way home from kindergarten.

And it used to be your thing. 

How he pulls on your arm when he’s excited or slings his arm around your shoulders, shaking you. How he presses his face against yours, eye against eye, to make sure you really got his joke. 

But you can’t help but feel sick now, at the thought of it. Because it doesn’t mean what you thought it meant. And he’s probably going to do it with Mika now.

“Hey,” he pulls on your backpack as a greeting, dragging ice-cold fingertips along your neck. You shiver and he shows a wicked grin. “Still cranky?” 

“Was I ever?” You snap back and he cocks his head, tongue slipping out as he musters you. It’s adorable and you hate yourself for thinking so.

“You wanna get chocolate milkshakes after school?”

“I’m fine,” you point out. “And you’re going to walk Mika home, right?”

“Are you jealous?” He asks and your heart stops for a painful moment until he laughs. “Come on, we’ve been best friends forever. I’m sure she’d like some Milkshakes too.”

And it’s like that, for days, and weeks on end.

Everything you used to do together is now something you have to share with Mika.

Until she breaks up with him.

- 9/8

“Can we play family?” You ask, a bit more confident in the coziness of your own bedroom. Your parents make more money than Suguru’s, you can tell. It’s no surprise he likes hanging out at your place more. You prefer it the other way, like the warmth of their kitchen and the noise, always someone around to talk. You like his older sister who teases him relentlessly and his mother who always calls you cute.

But you’ve got better toys so you’re hanging out at your place. And since it’s your place, you call the shots.

“Again?” He asks, but already picks up the Squishmallow you usually use as a kid. You own two and the other one’s sitting next to your bedroom door, playing dog.

“Today,” you declare your newest idea proudly, “I’m going to make a lot of money. I work in finance, like my dad.”

Suguru nods, gently nursing the Squishmallow kid in his arms. “Should I stay home with the kid then?”

“Yeah,” you nod, “You could make some dinner for when I come home. Do you want to have a Hobby, like Mom?” 

“Oh yeah,” he grins, “I’m going to be a famous volleyball player on the side. They only have to train and win games, so I have more then enough time to care for our kid and the dog. Do we have a daughter or a son?”

“I don’t know. What do you want?”

“I want a daughter,” he lifts her up, squinting as if he can see a real kid in the soft pink plush. “And she looks like you.”

- 18/17

It’s Sō who tells you. He happened to walk past them on the way to training, couldn’t help but overhear. 

“You’re such a bore, all you ever do is focus on club activities,” Sō repeats before you can stop him.

He opens his mouth to ask, but the gym doors open. Suguru looks positively mad.

“What are you doing?” He asks Sō, voice sharp. “This is supposed to be training. Start running!” He turns to you but you don’t even let him open his mouth.

“Suguru,” your voice is cold, clear and cuts through him like always. “Can I talk to you outside for a second?” 

He huffs. “What if I don’t want to?”

“Then I’ll have to ask Coach to tell you to talk to me. You want that?”

“No,” he snarls, turning back to where he came from. “Hurry up, I want to train.”

“Warn the others,” you whisper in Sō’s direction and follow Suguru outside.

There’s a group of trees not far from the Gym that’s pretty much secluded. 

Suguru swings as if to punch one of the trees but you’re faster, grabbing his elbow and pulling back.

“We still need your hands,” you huff, “Keep it together.”

“I don’t want-”

“I know,” you pull him in, hug him as tight as he allows. “I know.”

You don’t know how long you’re standing like this, Suguru trembling like a leaf. He’s always been a crybaby, even if he’s a little ashamed to admit it.

“Want me to egg her house?” You ask, wishing that just once he’d hug you back. 

“No, that’s stupid.”

“I could put eggs into her shoes,” you point out. “Like I did with that girl that bullied you in Junior High.”

He snorts wetly. “That was amazing, but no, I don’t… I just wanted her to like me.” His face is pressed against your shoulder now and you can feel his mouth move against the fabric of your shirt when he talks. 

“Maybe I should quit Volleyball.”

“Because some girl told you it was boring? Suguru, you’re better than that.”

“Mika’s not just some girl.”

You swallow thickly, unable to snap back for the first time since you can remember. 

If only he’d say such things about you too.

“Well,” You manage after a while, “You’ll just have to win Nationals then. Show her what you’re made of.”

“Yeah,” he nods and pulls back, your sign to let go. “You’re right.”

He wipes his eyes and tries a shaky smile.

“Let’s beat Nekoma to a pulp.”

You roll your eyes. “You and that team. But if it makes you happy, we will.”

- 13/12

“Have you kissed somebody yet?” Suguru asks.

It’s a nice day out and you’re using your huge garden for Volleyball practice.

You don’t like playing it that much, but since Suguru doesn’t have that many male friends to play with, you don’t mind helping him out.

“No, you?”

“No.”

You wait, knowing he’ll eventually explain himself.

“Haizaki said it’s lame if you haven’t kissed anyone yet,” Suguru explains and leaps into the air to spike a ball.

You receive it, albeit a bit clumsily, and the ball tapers off into the shrubbery to your left.

“I told him that I kissed you,” he says instead of moving, and since you don’t really like Volleyball all that much you stay where you are. You have to move enough as it is already.

“Oh?”

“Yeah,” Suguru’s glaring at the shrubbery now. “Haizaki didn’t believe me at first. I showed him that picture from the festival last year. Now he thinks you’re too cute to be kissing me.”

You snort and drop to the floor, too lazy to keep standing. “Did you tell him how I bit your chin when you tried to put your arm around my shoulder for that picture.”

“No,” now he’s the one snorting. “But I should have.”

“Mhm.”

“Do you wanna kiss?”

You knew that question would come. Still, you don’t really have an answer to it. 

You put your head on your knees and pear up at him, blinking through your eyelashes until he blurs into a shapeless blob.

You don’t really care about kissing. Or boys. There’s no one in your life that’s as close to you as Suguru is. You’re friendly with your classmates, but most of what they want to talk about is boring.

Maybe you don’t want to kiss. Or think about it. But Suguru wants it. So you can at least try, right? 

“Fine,” you stretch out your hands, ask him to pull you up. As soon as you’re standing you press your lips to his.

It’s awkward, and not at all nice. His mouth is slightly open, a little wet with saliva or maybe sweat and his nose bumps almost painfully into yours.

Suguru squeaks as you move away, grabbing your hands to pull you back in. This time your teeth knock against each other and it hurts even more.

“Maybe,” you say, your face pressed against his shoulder when he’s still not letting you go, “Haizaki also never kissed a girl. Maybe it’s totally overrated and disgusting but he just thought you’d believe him.”

“You think?” Suguru asks, clearly downfallen by this failure. He always just wants to be cool.

“Yeah, you just need to be really confident when you tell him that you’re not interested in that. You know? Like, tell the class that Haizaki’s so bad in school because all he thinks about are girls. If you sound like you mean it, everyone will gang up on Haizaki. I do that too and it works all the time.”

His arms, clammy with sweat, loosen their hold on you. His adams apple is bobbing up and down as he steps back.

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” he says, voice still a little unsure, “Can we… can we play some more volleyball?”

“If we must,” you groan and his smile flickers back to life, this mischievous teasing thing you’ve grown fond of. 

He pinches your side and moves toward the shrubbery.

“Fifty receives or you don’t get any ice-cream.”

“This is my house, you know!”

- 18/17

“Can I talk to you for a second?”

 Sō’s eyebrows shoot up but you remain calm.

“Of course,” you say, following Mika out of your classroom and down the hallway into an empty classroom. You think this one’s reserved for Music Club.

“I wanted to ask,” she looks nervously to the side before continuing, “if you and Suguru… Are you… dating?”

You allow Silence to settle before you answer. The question hurts you just as much as it might hurt her to ask and if you can make her suffer a little longer, you will.

“No.”

“Oh,” she looks like she expected a different answer, as if she’s not sure where to go from here.

“Is there anything else?”

“Yes!” She surges forward, boxing you in. “I… I want to apologize.”

“For what?”

“For breaking up.”

“You’re talking to the wrong person then.”

She huffs, crossing her arms now. “Could you be any less helpful?”

“What do you want me to do?” You snap, losing the small of patience you had.

She slinks back, shrinking into herself. “I just… I kinda think it was a stupid decision. But I don’t know. Do you think Suguru liked me? Like, really liked me? You’re his best friend.”

“I don’t know,” you offer helpfully, “I’ve never been in a relationship. I don’t know what really liking someone means.”

And you’re being honest this time, even if she might not believe you. You only know that Suguru doesn’t really like you like that. 

“Kaya… my friend… she said that maybe you’re into him and that’s why we broke up.”

You straighten, hands balled to fists.

“You broke up with him,” you hiss, “Don’t you dare pin this on him.”

“I know!” Mika howls, clearly exasperated now. “I know! I don’t know what I’m supposed to be doing. That’s why I’m asking you for advice!”

You stiffen, turn toward the window. You can think better when you’re not looking at her, when you can pretend she’s not looking at you.

If someone asks you about this, if someone ever dares to question it, you will deny it with everything you’ve got, but you can’t… you just can’t-

“Just come to our next game,” you tell her, voice tired. “We’re playing against Nekoma for the Qualifiers. He hates that team. You can decide there how you want to go on.” You turn and move for the door. But something just needs to be said, even if you don’t want to speak it into existence.

“And he’s not into me. Suguru, I mean. We’re friends. I just don’t have that many and I’m not used to sharing, that’s all.”

You leave her standing there, don’t turn back to look.

Instead, you go straight to the school nurse, wait until she calls your mum to come and pick you up. 

You feel sick to your stomach and even though the Congee she cooks does little to soothe that kind of hurt, you don’t argue against it.

.

Mika doesn’t ask to speak to you again.

But she’s at your match against Nekoma, you can spot her in the crowd. When she approaches the team after your loss you’re glad that the team moves away in unison.

You don’t want to be there when it happens.

“Maybe you should date someone too,” Sō offers. He’s remarkably calm about their loss. “Kuguri and you are quite similar. You could get along.”

“What?” Kuguri turns to look at you, “I heard my name.”

“You have ears,” you praise him, “Good job.”

He scowls and turns away again. 

You close your eyes, lean your back against the wall. 

“I think I’m going to focus on school work,” you admit, “Leave the Club.”

Takachiho gasps. “Leave the Club? You?”

“What?” You scowl, “Like you care. You’re leaving this year anyway.”

“Yeah, but the Club needs you!” Seguro sidles up to you, “You’re our Manager.”

“Like you can’t fill your water bottles without me,” you snarl. 

“I bet,” Numai mutters darkly, rubbing his chin, “If you’d get your ass on it, you could turn this team around.”

“Is that a dare?” You ask, stepping up to him. “Do you really think you can dare me to do better?”

“Absolutely! I bet you could get rid of these cheap tactics and get us to Nationals without Suguru interfering.”

Hiroo snorts. “You do know, Numai, that our dear Manager is worse than our Captain when it comes to trashtalking, right?”

Your smile grows as Numai’s flickers and fades.

“But,” he starts just as someone clears his throat behind you. 

“Something going on?” Suguru asks.

Looking at him feels like a punch to the throat. You can tell that he’s happy without him having to say it. Mika’s nowhere to be seen but it still feels as if she’s wrapped around him. 

The team lunges forward.

If anyone notices that you’re not taking part in their playful attack, they don’t address it. 

You sneak away undisturbed.

.

Seguro’s named Captain a few days later. 

Mika must have talked to Suguru because he’s not dragging you with them anymore. And while you had thought that there could be nothing worse than being the third wheel on one of their dates, being forgotten is so so so much worse.

School is boring you. Training is torture. You need something to occupy your mind.

- 18/17

“All alone?” Someone settles heavily on the chair next to you.

You don’t have to look up. You’d know that honeysmoothed voice anywhere.

“Not interested, roosterhead.”

Kuroo chuckles softly. “Don’t bite, Snakelet. I just want to make some friendly conversation.”

“Sure, sure. So you’re not here to scope out the competition?” You don’t take your eyes off the game. 

Below your seats the game is reaching it’s Finale. 

“Which one do you want?” Kuroo asks, mouth so close to your ear his breathe washes over your face. You don’t flinch.

“If I had to guess you want the Captain. He’s got an amazing defense. And with your stupid First-Year you’ll need some good defense.”

“Now now, don’t insult Lev like that.” Kuroo stretches, yawns and rests his arm on your shoulder. “He’s even dumber than you make him out to be.”

You can’t help but laugh at that comment. At least he’s self-aware.

“Go on,” you nudge your elbow into his side, “Tell me who I’m picking.”

“You want both Outside Hitters. They are both tall, broad shouldered and have a lot of energy and drive, so you think that would balance out your lethargic teammates. But that’s a risky move. One of them moves like he’s chugged ten cans of Monster before the game and the other feels like this game is the beginning of his murder-spree.”

“I need someone with Stamina,” you agree, “If I can get both of them, I will. If I can get only one of them, I’ll take Mr. Murderspree.”

“Good.” Kuroo grins. “I don’t want our games to get boring.”

You roll your eyes. “They’re not our games, Roosterhead. You’re graduating.”

“Ah,” he pinches your chin. “But I’m still watching, you know. From the shadows.”

You snort. “Sure. If that gives you closure.” You get up. “You can stay here if you want, I need to get going. First one to get a student to sign on your team wins.”

“Loser pays the drinks,” he calls after you.

.

You’re not sure how it happened or when. You don’t even know what to call this. 

Suguru is your best friend, so Kuroo can’t be it. Kuroo is Suguru’s enemy and you’re pretty sure you don’t feel the same way about him, so he can’t be that either.

You’d call him an annoying cousin you’re not related to if these conversations wouldn’t sound so much like flirting nowadays. 

In some weird way you think he understands you, or at least how your brain works. He’s pointed out, often enough to remember, that you remind him of Kenma. 

And you’d argue against it, but he’s never once insulted Suguru in front of you. Talking shit about Kenma feels like disrespecting that truce. Even if you feel a lot smarter than a guy who’s cosplaying a bowl of pudding.

.

“Congratulations,” Kuroo sets your coffee down in front of you before taking a seat, “Both Outside Hitters and the Setter, I’m impressed.”

“He’s more of a glorified Pinch Server, but thank you.” You drag your spoon through the foam in your cup, destroying the artwork the barista created. You’re not in the mood for little foam hearts today. “How’s your new Captain doing?”

“Terrible, but that’s to be expected.”

“Same.” You let your eyes wander through the café only to get caught on something outside. You know that jacket, that haircut, that smi-

“Everything okay?” Kuroo peers down at you. 

“Dropped my earring,” you claim, patting the floor. Outside Suguru kisses Mika goodbye and turns with one last wave of his arm before jogging of.

You get back into your seat, ignore the amused twinkle in Kuroo’s eyes and dare to think that you’ve got out of this alive - until someone appears next to you.

“Oh, hi!” Mika blinks with a smile, “Suguru just left, what a surprise! I haven’t seen you in a while.”

“Likewise,” you press out. 

“Hi, I’m Kuroo,” Kuroo offers her his hand, “You’re Daishou’s girlfriend, right?”

“Yeah,” her smile brightens, “I’m sorry, I don’t know you, are you from Nohebi?”

“No,” he shakes his head, but doesn’t disclose his own school. You don’t flatter yourself with thinking it’s because of your glaring. “Just visiting a friend.”

“Oh,” Mika rests a hand on her chest, “Sorry, I didn’t know- of course, I’ll leave you to it.” She all but flutters away. You want to leave.

Kuroo, however, leans over the table, grinning like the literal Chesire Cat.

“She thinks we’re dating.”

“I don’t care what she thinks,” you snarl.

“Oh?” His eyebrows lift to where you can’t see them. “Ohoh?”

“Not like that,” you groan, “Get your head out of the gutter.”

“What? I could date you,” he twirls his spoon between his fingers, “Don’t all girls want an older boyfriend?”

“I think it’s more about wanting a smarter boyfriend,” you point out, “So I doubt we’d fit that scheme.”

“You wound me,” he huffs playfully, “But if you ever want to make someone jealous you can call me up anytime.”

“Thanks, I already hate that idea.”

- 18/17

It’s a shame you cannot skip graduation. 

It’s not even your own but you know Suguru would never let you live it down. 

So you force yourself to smile in every picture, pretending you don’t see the second button of his blazer missing. 

Ever since Kindergarten he’s been one year above you. Ever since Kindergarten, you went out for ice cream afterwards, you paying for his on his graduation and him paying for yours the next year.

This year he asks if he can bring Mika along. You pay for him, he pays for her and when it’s time for you to pick your own ice cream all you want to do is go home and sleep.

But you can’t, so you pick the first flavor you see, not wanting to ruin the taste of your favorite ice cream with this awful memory.

“This is a cute spot,” Mika announces when you’ve found a spot outside under an oak tree, “We should come here for a date. What do you think?” She addresses you all of a sudden, “We could do a double date.”

Suguru chokes on his ice cream.

“Double date?” He asks. “Is there something I don’t know?”

Mika’s eyes widen. “Oh, was it a secret?”

“No,” you grind through your teeth, “It’s not a secret because I don’t have a boyfriend. Or date anyone. I just met someone I know while I was scouting new players.”

“Who?” He asks, brows furrowed. 

“He’s got dark hair,” Mika explains, “Kinda messy like Kuguri-”

“Kuroo?” Suguru bristles, eyes turning wide. “You went out with Kuroo?”

Something turns to ice inside you.

“Yes,” you say, “I went out with him. Who cares?”

“He’s-”

“The Ex-Captain of a team that didn’t win Nationals. Wow. How outstanding.”

“My arch-enemy!” Suguru thunders, “And you know that.”

“Please,” you huff, “He barely knows you exist.”

“Take that back!”

“No.” 

“I didn’t think-” Mika starts but you shut her up with a glare. 

“I don’t butt into your relationship,” you clarify, “So you don’t get to butt into mine.” 

“You’re dating-?” Suguru gasps for air, “Kuroo?”

“Does it matter? No. I was here to celebrate your graduation not to discuss my lovelife.”

“If you’re dating Kuroo we can no longer be friends,” Suguru bites out and you nod, get up and throw your ice cream in the trash.

“Fine. If that’s how you want it, I’ll accept. Goodbye.”

You march away, don’t look back. You don’t want Suguru to see that your eyes start to water as the ice inside you slowly melts.

.

You: If your house gets egged this week, Suguru thinks we’re dating.

Roosterhead: Oh? Buy me Dinner first.

You: I’m not dating you.

Roosterhead: I’m heartbroken. You good though? 

You: I will be after we demolish Nekoma.

Roosterhead: Looking forward to you trying.

- 19/18

Seguro and Yamamoto are shaking hands but all you care about are the glowing eyes of their setter who rest on you, unblinking.

You’ve lost this time, but you’re not giving up. It’s only a Training Match after all and as soon as you’ve figured out how to balance out your team, you’ll be fine.

Still, it sucks that you’ve lost to Kenma. Of all people.

“Hey,” Sō nudges you with his elbow, nodding toward the door. “We’ve got a visitor.”

He didn’t need to tell you. You spotted Suguru half an hour ago but decided to ignore him.

The last two months have been filled with somewhat strained communication, mostly held up by Mika who’s trying her best to mend a friendship you no longer believe in.

He’s chosen Mika over you. You’ll be able to live with that, someday. 

“Hey,” someone else speaks up from your other side. You turn to Kenma, who’s looking the other way.

“Yeah?”

“Kuroo mentioned something… about you…”

“So?”

He huffs. “I think I have an idea you’d be interested in.”

You’ll never admit that you only agree to buy into Bouncing Ball Corp because Suguru is watching you, but in all honesty, you’d probably agree to selling fridges in the arctic if it buys you a few more minutes away from him.

It doesn’t matter in the end. He stays until everyone else has left, hands buried in his pockets, nodding at the players that know him, rolling his eyes at those who don’t.

“What’s going on?” You ask when you’ve run out of reasons to avoid him, the gym empty besides the two of you.

“Can’t I come see my best friend?”

“I don’t know, are they in the room with us?”

He huffs. 

“I mean you.”

“Could have fooled me.”

You turn away, take a few steps just to put space where there used to be none.

Suguru calls out your name. There’s something in his voice, a softer, more vulnerable tone, that makes you turn around. His shoulders are down and he’s staring at the ground and you know, just by looking at him, that he lost. 

You don’t know if it’s a game or a thing, a person or an idea, but there’s something to it, the fact that he comes to you for comfort, that soothes some of the hurt.

“What did you do now, you fool?” You ask and maybe there’s something in your voice too, because he takes a few steps and pulls you in, rests his head against your shoulder where no one can see if he cries or not.

“Coach kicked me off the starting Line-Up,” he admits, “I’m just a pinch server.”

“So?” You ask, “You were a Pinch Server when you started at Nohebi. Those things take time.”

“Yeah,” he croaks, “But I also failed my first exam.”

“Mhm,” you hum, “Math?”

“Yeah.”

“What else?”

He huffs. “Who says-”

“What else, Suguru?”

“I can’t get a job. Like, I’ve tried but the only shops that might take me are the fast food joints around College and the hours there are terrible. And I need to train.”

You sigh. He hasn’t changed at all.

“Have you talked to Mika about it?” You ask and you know your voice sounds a little condescending right now, but he deserves it, right? 

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t want her to know,” he huffs, tensing as you try to push him away. “Please?”

“I’m not your manager any longer,” you point out. “You’re old enough to get yourself out of the mess you got yourself into. I’m not here to-”

“Please,” he repeats, but there’s a different tone to it now, “This is not why I came, okay? I just… you always know- Ugh, you just understand me, okay? I need to talk to someone who understands. Please?”

“Fine,” you let your bag slip from your shoulder, “You carry my bag and I’ll listen.”

And it’s a tale as old as time, you think, as you walk next to him, almost knocking your hip into his from. 

Suguru’s not stupid. He just gets too much in his head about how things should be like until he can no longer see the big picture. And as much as he enjoys dishing out, he cannot take a hit for the life of him.

“So?” You ask when you reach the cross roads that separate your houses, “Feeling better?”

“Yeah,” he nods, “I- I wanted to say… If you want to date Kuroo, that’s fine.”

You balk. “What?”

“Yeah,” he grimaces, “I mean, I don’t like him, but if you think he’s decent enough…”

“I’m not dating him.”

“Kenma then?”

“Just shut up, okay?” You snarl. “It doesn’t matter. I’m not- I don’t care- You know, let’s just say you won’t mind and forget about this, okay?”

“No,” he shakes his head, “I want to talk about this. You’re my best friend. I’m sorry I neglected you. You’re doing a good job with the team, better than I did when I was Captain last year. And Mika… she’s sorry too. This is my idea, coming here and talking to you, but I know she feels bad too. She’s just… I think she got a little excited at the idea of us going on double dates. But it wasn’t right putting it out like that.”

“It doesn’t matter,” you repeat, too stubborn to give in, “But I appreciate it. What are you going to do now?”

“Oh, study for math, keep looking for jobs,” he huffs, dragging his hands through his hair. 

“I meant today,” you snort and he blushes awkwardly. 

“Then say it like that, idiot. You wanna play some volleyball? I have the time.”

“No,” you shake your head, “But I could use some math practice.”

- 19/18

It’s weird, still. 

Suguru makes an effort to come over once a week. It helps that you can give him pointers in his math studies, but it’s not the way it was before.

He’s too touchy for a guy with a girlfriend. And though you’ve got your heart on a tight leash you can tell it’s much too easy to get lost in this until something reminds you of the truth.

So you do what everyone would do in your situation.

You ask Kuguri out. 

It goes about as well as one would expect. 

Sure, you could ask Kuroo. You’re pretty sure he’d do it, but you don’t want to ruin a perfectly fine friendship - if you could call it that.

Soon matches and exams turn up back to back and all you see of Suguru are the short messages he sends whenever he remembers.

He doesn’t forget your graduation, but ice cream just doesn’t taste the same way it used to.

You wish you could have stopped this ritual when it was still fun.

- 20/19

If someone would ask you for the name of your best friend, you’re no longer sure what you’d answer.

There’s Suguru, who you rarely talk to, yet know better than yourself most days.

There’s Sō, who’s taking the same Classes as you, who you’ve shared quite a few wins and failures with since attending Nohebi. 

And then there’s Kuroo, who’s an absolute pain in the ass, but at least he’s reliable.

“I want to get paid for this,” you tell him when you hand over the CD. “I spent a while analyzing all that footage.”

“Ah, you love doing it,” Kuroo teases, moving to ruffle your hair, “Besides you always bet on Bokuto. I’m just helping you get your money through that.”

“I do not,” you grind through your teeth. You hate him sometimes.

“Do to,” he jokes, turning when something catches your attention. “The Barista has the hots for you.”

You snort. “Yeah, sure.”

“Absolutely.” Kuroo gestures with his hands before grinning. “See? He wants your number.”

“What?” You squeak, turning to look for yourself. The guy isn’t bad-looking at all. Maybe a bit less athletic than you’re used to. And he’s waving at you, gesturing in a way that can really only mean one thing.

“Well, I’m not giving it to him.”

“Why not?” Kuroo leans back, eyes twinkling. “Would you rather go out with me? Oh, Snakelet, I’m honored.”

“Fine,” you bite out, “I’ll get his.”

Kuroo’s still grinning when you come back, leaning over the table to look at your phone.

“Ah, so that’s his name. Now, I’m waiting. Text him.”

“Why?”

“Because I won’t believe you otherwise.”

“You’re sick in the head.”

“Mhm, you too. Now chop chop, we don’t have all day.”

If you say that your first relationship only exists because of Kuroo, you mean it.

.

Moriwaka isn’t all that bad. He might just be exactly what you need.

He studies Psychology, works part-time as a Barista, and collects Star Trek memorabilia, which means you have literally nothing in common and so much more to talk about.

And it’s nice, how he never once asks about Suguru - they’ve only met briefly - or Volleyball - he doesn’t like Sports - or your parents - he’s not into Finance.

He doesn’t push you either.

You don’t like being touched? That’s fine with him, he’s happy sidling up to you on the way to the Cinema - he bought two tickets for the newest Star Trek movie. 

All in all, it feels a little more like having a new best friend, just that Moriwaka likes to tell you how good you’re looking every single day.

- 20/19

“I’m going to use the bathroom,” you say, getting up from the Couch. 

“I’m pausing the movie,” Moriwaka announces, “This is the best part.”

You’d probably disagree with him if you cared enough, but it’s fine. Star Trek is important to him and he never once complains when you make him rewatch a Volleyball Game.

The doorbell rings just as you close the door behind you.

“That’s probably the Pizza,” he announces. You yawn.

The window doesn’t close properly but you don’t care, no one can see you pee anyway.

“What are you doing here?” Moriwaka’s voice floats up.

“I’m looking for someone.” You freeze, the voice too familiar. What’s Suguru doing here?

He says your name.

“Ah, she’s not here.” You can hear Moriwaka, your heart thumping awkwardly in your chest. Why is Suguru looking for you if he could just call you?

“No, no, I’m sure she’s here.”

“So what? She doesn’t want to see you.”

You fumble the door lock trying to get out. What’s Moriwaka doing?

It doesn’t take long to get out of the apartment and down the stairs, but it feels like half an eternity.

The door is open and you can hear Moriwaka before you can see him.

“I’ve seen your messages,” he announces, voice weirdly cold, “You only call to unload your baggage on her. You’re a pathetic, wet rag of a man.”

“And you’re any better?” Suguru snaps back, “You have no idea what’s between me and-”

“I’m her boyfriend,” Moriwaka announces just as you slide out the door behind him.

Suguru’s face turns perfectly blank at your sight, but Moriwaka isn’t lucky enough to get the hint.

“I’m not allowing you to talk to her.”

“I don’t think that’s your decision,” you tell him coolly. 

He turns, surprise evident on his face. But no guilt. 

“Listen, I’m just trying to protect you.”

“I don’t need your protection.”

He scoffs. “What? So you’re just going to let him drag you down again? He probably just lost another game. Or his girlfriend ran off or whatever.”

Suguru flinches. The breakup happened a few months ago, but he’s always been bad at taking hits. 

“It doesn’t matter,” you tell Moriwaka snidely, “He’s my best friend. You don’t have any say in that.”

“You’re just in love with him,” he spits out, “Right? That’s why you’re pushing me away all the time. You don’t really want to date me, you’re just passing time with me hoping he’ll suddenly turn around and be interested in you.”

Suguru steps forward, fists balled but you’re a little faster, always more inclined to use your tongue instead of your fists.

“Go,” you tell him, your calm facade your biggest weapon, “Your movie’s waiting. I’m sure Captain Whatever has some inspirational quotes for you to flirt with next time.”

Moriwaka huffs, but he’s not dumb enough to take the bait. Or maybe he doesn’t care enough either.

“Go, be unhappy if that’s what you want.” He slams the door shut behind him.

-

The night is warm, the air around you humid and heavy.

Suguru’s looking up at a nearby street lamp, clearly uncomfortable with the situation.

“You were looking for me?” You ask, not ready to deal with the can of worms Moriwaka just opened.

“Yeah, I…” He clears his throat. “I got… I got a deal. For the Yotsuya Motor Spirits. I know it’s only Division 2 but they’ll let me finish College while I play.”

“Oh, Congratulations,” you step forward, not really sure what you want to do, just knowing that you want to be closer.

“Thanks,” he clears his throat again, “I was… I was talking to my parents about it and when they hung up all I could think about was that I wanted to tell you. We haven’t… we haven’t talked in a while, right?”

“Yeah.” You want to ask him who’s fault that is, but really, isn’t it your fault too? After all you were the one who fell in love in the first place.

“How’d you know I was here?” You ask when he’s fighting for words, tongue slipping out between his lips as he thinks. It’s a habit he’s had since you’ve known him and altough you’ve tried to hate it, it just endears him even more to you.

“Ah,” He drags a hand through the hair at the back of his head, “I was at your place but you weren’t there. And I figured you might be out with friends, but Sō said you’re out with your boyf- some guy but he doesn’t know where that is.”

“So?” You did not miss the way he stumbled over the term boyfriend. Your heart’s beating too fast to be healthy, but there’s a smug grin on Suguru’s face now, a look that tells you this story is going into a different direction now.

“You’ve been posting pictures of your favorite drink lately and there’s only one shop in Tokyo who makes it exactly the way you like it, so I thought I’d try over here. Remembered the dude’s name too, can you believe it?”

You laugh. He’s unbelievable, so proud of himself and his most basic deduction skills.

“You did great,” you tell him, “You wanna talk a walk? I need a bathroom and I’m not going back up there.”

“Oh, yeah, sure.” he ushers you along, “There’s a 7-Eleven down the street.”

-

And it feels like yesterday, hips almost knocking into each other, walking down the street.

It feels like you’re six years old again and Suguru’s walking you home from school, his hand clutching yours because even though he’s older, he’s a bit more scared of the world.

It feels like you’re thirteen, only beginning to understand that some boys are gross and some boys are cute and why your heart flutters softly when Suguru’s tongue peaks out whenever he’s lost in thought. 

It feels like you’re seventeen, heart heavy yet ready to leap, calculating all the ways a confession could go wrong - and the one way it could go right - only to miss your chance.

“He’s right, you know,” Suguru points out in the too bright lights of the store when you come back from the bathroom. 

He’s staring at the cut up fruits in the fridge and maybe he’s thinking what to get for a late night smoothie, but maybe he’s thinking the same thing you’re thinking about.

How all 7-Eleven’s are kinda the same and if they are, is this a place out of time? A place you can stay in without getting older, without the consequence of change?

“I really am a pathetic,wet rag of a man.”

“Hmm,” you make, stepping so close to him your shoulder brushes his. If you’d be a little braver, you’d take his hand. 

If you could have a chance to get stuck in time, you’d take it if it meant being with him, hands not quite touching, bare faces reflected in the clear doors of an oversized fridge.

“I swear I’m not doing this because I’m lonely,” there’s a wetness to his voice that your ears are used to, grown fond of, even. The back of his pointer finger touches the back of your hand and his skin is warm and a shiver races down your back.

“And I should hate myself for breaking up what you had with that guy, but-”

You want to turn, look directly at him instead of his reflection in the glass, but you’re frozen in place, heart thundering so loud he must be able to hear it. 

“I’ve had a crush on you since… since way before I asked to practice kissing. You’re the coolest person I’ve ever known, and I… I’m so tired of pretending that someone else can compare. I’m sorry.” He whispers the last words, hiccups softly when your hand grabs his, squeezes as tight as you can.

You’re going to cry any second, you know, but you don’t want to, even if it’s him you’re with. 

You don’t want any tears to blurr your sight when you can look at him, see him, face flushed and eyes watery, all 179,5cm of pathetic, wet rag of a man.

“Do you want to play family?” You ask, voice a little rough, eyes a little watery too. “We can even get a dog.”

He smiles so wide you can barely see his eyes.

But when he leans in and kisses you, nose softly bumping yours and chuckles ringing through the air, you have to disagree with your younger self.

Kissing isn’t overrated at all. If anything, it’s probably underrated.

- 21/20

“Oh no, we have to play against you guys?” Bokuto’s voice’s too loud to ignore even in the bustle of a packed stadion.

Suguru bristles next to you but relaxes a little when your elbow digs into his side.

“Like they’re going to give you any problems,” Kuroo’s voice is smooth and sticky, clinging to your ears like caramel to the teeth. “Right?”

“Kuroo,” Suguru drawls, “You’re here too?”

“Well of course,” his grin reminds you of the famed Chesire Cat and your arm slings around Suguru’s waist, pulling him in. 

He stumbles a bit, turning to look at you. Surprise, joy and then deep adoration wash over his face in a way you’ll never grow tired off. Suguru’s hand slides into the back pocket of your jeans and you know, would there be less people around, he’d be kissing you too.

“Aww, cute,” Kuroo sings, “You didn’t hear anything I just said.”

“Should we?” You ask, “If I want to hear an asshole talk I can just fart.”

Suguru snickers even as Bokuto howls in the background, clearly excited to have a new insult to try on someone else.

But Kuroo wouldn’t be Kuroo if you could best him with one lame insult.

“Funny,” he smiles, “You’re managing today too?”

“No,” you shake your head, “Just here for Suguru.”

“And we’re going to win,” Suguru declares, “MSBY has no chance against the Yotsuya Motor Spirits.”

He says it with conviction, but you know the chances of him winning are low. MSBY have been rising to the top ever since they drafted Miya Atsumu right out of highschool. Now they’ve got Bokuto too. If they’d gotten Sakusa Kiyoomi too like they’d been planning for months, you’d bought the consolation cake already but at least he’s insistent on finishing College before he starts playing professionally. 

It doesn’t matter, though. 

You’re not with Suguru because he’s got the best chance at winning the game and he knows it. And no matter the outcome of this game, there’s already a small velvet box at home that he thinks you don’t know about.

Like he could keep any secrets from you.

- 27/26

“That’s all,” you cut off your assistant’s questioning, “Everything else has to wait until tomorrow.”

“I understand. Have a good evening.”

“You too.” You cut the call and park the car, thinking for the umpteenth time that you need to start looking into the possibility of hiring a driver. Some of these calls get too intense to be held at the wheel of a vehicle.

There’s a Volleyball on the front lawn and a chewed-up dog toy. You drag your keycard through the scanner and stifle a yawn as the door opens.

“I’m home,” you call out over the pitter-patter of feet.

There’s Princess, your husky-mix and Kuroo, the little black Frenchie that his namesake gifted you at your wedding. 

“Kitchen!” You hear a voice over the Princess howling. She’s always so excited to have you back home.

“Hey,” you can’t help smiling as you step into the kitchen, both dogs hot on your heels. Suguru’s standing at the stove, Hime tied to his front. Only a tuft of her dark hair is peaking out and you lean in to kiss him first and then the top of her head. 

“How was it?” He asks, “Tired?”

“Extremely so, but everything’s going well. Even Dad is impressed. How was your day?”

“Mh, no, you’ve got to tell first,” he insists, pulling you into his side, “Because I wanna hear your voice a bit more before I tell you about the absolutely disgusting diaper change I had to go through today.”

You laugh. “Okay, so you remember Mamushi, our Client?”

“Mamushi with the thick eyebrows or Mamushi who slurps every beverage?”

“Slurper Mamushi.”

“Okay, I’m following.”

“So, this morning I got an email from him where he claims that we’re charging him too much. He gave us two options: Reduce the cost or dismiss the contract altogether.”

“Oh, that’s spicy. What did you do?”

“Well, remember how I had to cut our lunch call short? I met up with him for coffee right after and got down to business and you won’t believe it: he settled on a different contract that actually costs him more but he’s happy with it. Apparently he doesn’t like how it’s done nowadays and the old times were far better.”

“Amazing,” Suguru drops a kiss on your temple, “I would love to see the face of this man when he realizes how stupid he is. You’re a genius.”

You giggle.

“How was your day, then? Apart from the diaper catastrophe?”

“Well, I regret to inform you that Hime already has an admirer. Koji’s head over heels for her. I had to threaten him with bodily harm to get her back.”

“Oh, is that your libero?” You think, “The one with the Iro?”

“Yep, he died it pink last week.”

“Well, pink suggests he’s sensible. If Hime likes him too-”

“Don’t say that!” Suguru’s hands come down to cover Hime’s ears, “My princess isn’t going to date anyone until she’s at least thirty.”

“Mhm,” you lift your eyebrows, “And how are you going to explain to her that we had her way before we turned thirty?”

A blush works its way up his cheeks and you lean forward to sink your teeth into the flushed skin only to press your lips onto it right after.

“Love you,” you tell him, voice a bit raspy with emotion.

Sometimes, in moments like this, you can barely believe that this is how your life played out.

tagging: @lees-chaotic-brain @daisy-room @missalienqueen

@marti-mp4 @itsmippe @jus-jazzy @wavesofchaos

If she was at a normal party, maybe she wouldn’t be sipping a Coke-A-Cola in the corner while her best friend was essentially getting mauled by one of the basketball players. Or maybe this was what actual parties were. What happened to parties where everyone wanted to hit pinatas and watch the newest Jurassic Park movie? What was once popcorn and the Hot Billboard Pop 100 had gradually shifted into jello shots and music that made her toes curl.

To contemplate this shocking discovery longer than needed was distracting her from the original reason she was standing in the cold corner. Her designated corner. She hadn’t kissed anyone yet. It just didn’t feel right to waste a kiss on some stupid high school boy who probably didn’t brush his teeth enough. It also didn’t feel right to waste a first kiss during some ridiculous game only designed by the horniest of teenage desires.

She would go window shopping during times like these. Scanning around the room for a potential option that she could possibly be okay with giving her first kiss to. She never took the first jump into that pool.

It was always those damn Nohebi afterparties.

Daishou Suguru sat on an empty loveseat, arms resting on the length of the back of the couch. His legs were comfortably spread out, leaning back deeply into his seat.

He couldn't care less for the flitting around, drinking, and ridiculous games. Where was all the honest, genuine human connection? Not that he wanted that either. He just wanted something cunning to observe, entertainment at others' expense was his true forte.

Unfortunately, manipulation of people didn’t fly at a party the same way that it did on the volleyball court. He wished he could call Mika, at least so she could tell him an interesting story about college life. Despite their romance not turning out the way he had hoped, they stayed good friends. She was someone who he could rely on. Her new boyfriend was nice, and let Daishou drive his motorcycle around one time for kicks and giggles.

Drinking during the volleyball season was an illogical decision, but drinking when the season was over seemed appealing. Daishou just couldn’t drag himself over to the mixing table.

His thoughts were processing the music. Someone should’ve banned the person who had AUX. It was the third time that “The Color Violet” by Tory Lanez had played.

Clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth, Daishou got up and slithered over to the kitchen. In the corner was the girl. She was the one that his buddies had talked about. They complained that she never joined in on any of the games. They had said she refused to take body shots or give body shots. When they scoffed about her antics during the discussion in the locker room, Daishou just kept quiet.

He poured himself a glass of Sprite, threw an ice cube in his cup for good measure, and leaned against the kitchen island facing her.

They both just sipped from their drinks, analyzing the situation. Daishou had entered her territory wordlessly and had claimed a section of it for himself. She wasn’t going to speak first. Why should she have to speak to this prick? She knew him from class, class 6. She had wanted to test into class 7 but it was already full.

“L/N right?” Oh, goody.

“Daishou Suguru, right?”

He raised an eyebrow at the bite she had inserted. He felt like he was going to have a great time with her.

And he did. They had talked all night.

“That’s when I knew I loved volleyball.” Daishou spun around in the office chair. The two of them had migrated to the bougiest office either of them had ever seen. Some of the non-scholarship kids who attended Nohebi Academy were all set for life, including inheriting whatever kind of job provided for an office this expansive.

She was sitting on the window sill, tracing the various shapes on the seat cushions.

Daishou decided to investigate a little.

“You never play the games. You know, the intellectually stimulating game of Spin the Bottle. Or the ever-richly academic Suck and Blow. Or, or my buddy's personal favorite, Marathon Kissing.”

Maybe she felt like she wouldn’t be judged. Maybe she felt like this was a potential opportunity for an actual friendship. Was he lulling her into a false sense of security, or was that earnest tone of voice an actual curiosity?

“I don’t want my first kiss to be for some silly game.”

She got him hook, line, and sinker.

Or maybe he got her.

“How about lessons with a teacher?”

“Kissing lessons? That has to be some form of dubious prostitution schtick.”

“I don’t know, maybe if you had someone to teach you, or at least someone low-pressure that you don’t care about as your first kiss then you could become less of a social pariah at these things.”

“A social pariah, how kind of you to let me down gently.” She stood up from her spot on the window sill and rested her hands on the huge dark oak table. The black mat likely was used to hold a MacBook Pro, and the pen holder contained an expensive German fountain pen, both paragons of the wealth that was held by the owner of this home.

Daishou stood up as well and shrugged.

Her dad used to be really into the whole survivalist thing. She remembers all the stories and rules about snakes. Red touching yellow kills a fellow. The Japanese Mamushi snake was known for literally liquefying the tissue of the victims who got bitten. The Habu snake, found in Okinawa, was naturally aggressive, attacking before even getting provoked. But there was always the Japanese Keelback, a naturally calm, non-poisonous snake that was so small it liked to hide in rivers and streams.

Would he be the Keelback or the Habu? Only time would tell for her.

They kissed for the first time that night, her sitting on the desk, him shoving the ornamental decorations off the table. He held her face in his hands. He leaned so far forward that she was lying on the desk instead of sitting. Hands went from her face to her back, trying to push her up against him.

She wondered if she was a good kisser, or if that was all Daishou’s doing. If he made kissing seem so simple and natural like this. Was that a moan or was she just hearing things? His hands were behind her now, resting on the desk. He didn’t know why but he was keeping his face close to hers, letting his breath hit her neck. Was he panting from a simple kiss, or was the room just hot?

“Are you a liar?” Daishou used his hand to lift her chin, moving her face so he could pretend he was a detective, searching for clues to his hypothesis.

“I, uh, no. I’m not a liar.”

As much as they both wanted to pretend the kiss hadn’t affected either of them. Their share of tension, like a tightly strung cello string, meant they spent way more time together on a day-to-day basis.

He wishes that he didn’t seek her out as often as he did. Suddenly every test score was being placed on her desk to compare. Every essay was scrutinized not just by his eyes, but by hers as well. Lunches with the volleyball team talking about plans and games turned into sitting in Daishou’s car trading fruit cups for pieces of chocolate he had his mom import from Europe because he begged.

The question in both their minds was when they would kiss again. Tomorrow? Next week? Daishou prayed it wouldn’t be more than an entire month. She put her stupid feelings on the line when she asked for another lesson.

They weren’t at a party, they were at his house. He told his mom that they were studying because they were studying something. Instead of classic literature, or calculus, it was the art of the hickey.

Daishou realized he would have to articulate what little he knew about hickies. At least he brushed his teeth four times before she came over.

“Suguru, that’s the third time you’ve brushed your teeth, do we need to go to the dentist again? Want to borrow my waterpick?” His mom had called from the dining room, she was looking through university options for him. Trying to find one in Tokyo that would both challenge him and be close enough to home so she could see her son more often than a blue moon.

“I’m good. Thanks though.”

She came to his house earlier than expected, still wearing the Academy uniform. The girl’s uniform consisted of a pleated yellow skirt, a white button-up, and a green sweater vest. The emblem of a snake wrapped around a shield was carefully stitched onto the left breast pocket. Daishou was still in the bathroom, brushing away while listening to his playlist, he was nodding his head to the beat of “Snooze” by SZA.

When all music suddenly became all about her, he wondered if he still had brain cells that weren’t occupied by his favorite academic competition.

She knocked on the door and Daishou’s mom opened it. She had the same dark, slanted eyes that he did. Her black hair was shoulder-length and curled, she had the same dimples when she smirked at her son’s study companion for the evening. So this was the girl Suguru wanted chocolates for.

“Come in, come in.” Daishou’s mom ushered. “Suguru will be down in a minute.”

Looking around at photos was a good way to pass the time, there was one of Daishou on a soccer team, one on a baseball team, basketball, swimming, and all the other sports. When he appeared to be around middle school, everything was volleyball. There was a certificate of academic achievement resulting in a scholarship award.

“I was so proud when he got into Nohebi. His dad would’ve loved to see him at his alma mater.” Daishou’s mom opened a wooden box on the mantle place, flipping through some pictures before telling Y/n to come and look at the select few.

Daishou was younger in this picture, his mom looked younger too, and there was a man too. His dad. He had his arm around Daishou’s mom and a hand on Daishou’s head. An unreal smile was on everyone’s faces.

Daishou’s mom kept scanning through photos, she landed on one and froze for a moment. It was Daishou in a formal suit, his mother in a black long-sleeve dress, and a memorial picture of his father surrounded by white flowers and green shrubs. Their eyes were red, and his mom was managing a neutral expression, but Daishou looked like he wanted to be anywhere but in that photo.

“Suguru adored his father.” She sniffled, mouth quivering, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to damper your mood. I just thought a few cute photos of Suguru would sell you a little on my son. It's been so long since he had a girl over, especially one who’s smart. He just talks about you endlessly, I almost thought my ear would fall off.”

They didn’t have a lesson on hickies that night. Instead, they ate dinner with his mom and watched a movie. She was curled up with a blanket, watching the screen intently wondering what was going to happen to the main character.

He said he needed to go and get a glass of water. The college brochures were strewn across the kitchen island. He remembered what university she was planning on going to, so he picked up the information booklet for that same university. Grabbing a black marker, he bit the cap off and circled the application deadline several times. Using a thumb tack he put the paper right in the center of the corkboard.

Graduation was great, a blast even. It was three hours long, and the first fifteen felt like they lasted forever. Suddenly, the top students were giving their speeches, she got her diploma and she remembers cheering for Daishou to accept his. And then it was over.

And then he was pulling her aside, shoving a paper into her hands.

“Read it.” She nodded. “Now I mean.”

She skimmed the paper, looked up at him, and then looked back down to the paper.

“Suguru this is great! They gave you the Secondary Academic Merit award!”

“There’s more,” He pointed a finger at something he had highlighted green.

“They compounded it with a volleyball scholarship too? You get to play for the school and your education is free.”

In a moment she was picked up and gently spun around. His tongue peeked out to wet his lips, she could hear him swallowing. He mumbles. She cups his face with a hand, making him look at her. It's a short kiss, first on the corner of the mouth, then straight on.

“I still think you’re a liar.” He recalls the first-ever kiss they shared.

Then it dawns on him.

“The school? Don’t you mean our school?”

Some other school gave her a full tuition scholarship. The universities were approximately 3.38 hours away from each other by car. By train, the time was shaved by 0.14 hours. Daishou knows because he spent his graduation night calculating distances and adding up costs for tickets.

His mom tried to get him to eat the seaweed soup she had made, but he was busy writing everything down in his notebook.

He saved up all his frustrations, worries, and joy and then planned a weekend trip to her university. He liked to spend at least an hour or so chomping on her neck leaving teeth marks and arrangements of soft bruises from the remnant kisses.

When she asked him about it, he just shrugged. When she asked him about it again, he seemed to brush the topic away and offered to go get lunch together. The third time she asked was the time she got an answer from him.

“Because it’s to show that you’re mine.” He said it with a calm face. Almost as if he was asking her to ask him about it further. So she entertained him.

“And why exactly do you feel the need to show people that I’m yours?” She tilted her head, accidentally exposing a fresh canvas of skin. In an instant, his mouth was on her neck, biting it as he continued to explain.

“Because then I’m actively claiming you as mine. Despite my lack of physical presence, I’m still there somehow. That way no one will try anything funny.” He nipped at her skin, his sharp canine stabbing into her neck. “Do you know how tough it is being in class sometimes, wondering if there’s another dude in one of your classes who’s eying you up? Especially when you wear that cream-colored cardigan over your yellow sundress?”

When she lets out a short yelp at a bite, Daishou smiles against her skin.

“Plus, you make really pretty noises.”

While Daishou may have initially been a Keelback snake, he evolved into a Habu over time.

He felt like volleyball was going nowhere, each practice felt longer and more exhausting. Each game felt dull. Same plays, same tricks, same result. He wondered why winning so often felt like winning nothing at all. Did he love volleyball?

His dad sure loved volleyball. Each game that was on TV became all that his dad would talk about sometimes. Wearing jerseys and eating huge plates of yakitori on Sunday nights. Daishou’s father always would point at the screen, right when an outside hitter got a deep unreceivable kill spike, saying that's what should be plastered as a true athletic feat. To jump so high, to hit so hard that you became practically a bird.

A bird. His dad was like a bird. Not a crow, or an eagle, not even an owl. But a falcon, a peregrine falcon. One time, at the zoo, when Daishou was still small enough to sit on his dad’s shoulders, his dad whispered and told him to look at the leftmost tree branch within the cage. There it sat, the falcon. Preening at its wings and looking around one head movement at a time.

The fascination with birds was lost on Daishou. He preferred to watch the snakes, the way they slithered around, leaving no trails in the dirt. Wrapping around and around on branches. Even the way their tongues flitted out when they hissed. Sharp fangs get down into the meat of its prey.

“Stay with me for summer break.” He was picking at the orange peel, phone resting between his shoulder and his ear.

“I can’t.” She was lying in bed, typing away on one of her final essays for the year. The first year of university was almost over, and she was killing it.

“Yes, you can stop saying you can’t.” Daishou put a segment of the orange in his mouth, throwing away the peel. He sat down on his couch. His school year had finished a few weeks ago. His mom was out of the country for a case she had to investigate in Hong Kong. Having a hot-shot lawyer mother was nice, but it also meant long durations of staying in an empty house by himself.

There were only so many things to do alone. Tokyo was vibrant and perfect, but without her it was boring. No interesting conversations, no teasing, and no warmth.

She hesitated. She was hesitant. Hesitance was what all animals went through before going right into fight or flight. Daishou didn’t know what to do to bring her over from her school and back to his home. He remembered what his mom said about her trip.

“How about we go to Hong Kong, just for a month?”

“A trip like that is way too expensive.”

“Mom’s there already, her employer gave her a very large, very spacious penthouse to stay in while the lawsuit is still going on.” She was listening, and so he kept going. “I have some money saved for tickets.”

He had just attacked first, without provocation. Adding a new depth to their relationship.

Hong Kong was beautiful. The first night there, despite being riddled with sleep deprivation and jet lag, they went to a food market, trying everything they could get their hands on. Wonton noodles, dim sum, egg tarts.

The smoke from the grills floated around, mixing with the smoke from all the uncles' chain smoking and yelling at each other in Cantonese. Bright neon signs shouted at people to come into the stores. They sat in the open air outside, tightly packed into a table meant for one person. She was sipping some broth, and he was playing with her hair.

The company penthouse was probably worth more than Daishou’s school campus. High ceilings, marble floors. It reminded him of the house from Parasite, just without all the murder. His mom was on her laptop on a huge white couch in the main living area. When they entered, she exclaimed.

“Ru, you should’ve told me when your plane got in! I would’ve picked you both up.” Daishou’s mom was kissing his face and he was leaning away, but he let his mom smooth down his hair while she clicked her tongue against the roof of her disapprovingly.

“It's all good, we went and did a little exploring.” Daishou rubbed Y/n’s back, his thumb moving back and forth on her shoulder.

“Well, you must be tired. Your room is to the left, down that hall.”

She had begun unpacking, putting clothes in the chest of drawers. Daishou was taking a cold shower, scrubbing his hair with the shampoo she bought. She folded his clothes and put them away too. She flung herself onto the bed and soaked into the covers, a huge foam mattress with some bounce.

Her phone binged, a message from a friend back at school. Her friend talked about how jealous she was that she was out of the country with her boyfriend. Then her friend complained about her boyfriend, saying he never did anything out of the ordinary or interesting. She said that she knew too much about her boyfriend.

Did she know too much about her boyfriend? Daishou was open enough, telling her all the important details, except for the stories and memories from his last year in primary school before entering middle school. She knew he liked volleyball because of a story he told about his dad, but that was the only time Daishou had mentioned his dad. You had seen more photos as time passed, but it didn’t feel like enough. She shook the thought, if he wanted to share he would. No need to bring up things that weren’t relevant at the moment.

When he came out of the bathroom he had a towel around his waist and wet hair. He had cut it recently, so his bangs were no longer swept to the left side of his face, instead it was a short fringe across his forehead. His dimples were on full display.

“Hi, pretty lady.” He picked out some clothes, hanging them over his arm. “You look beautiful.”

He sweet talked too much and she was too tired to be clever in turn, “I’m sweaty, dirty, and have been wearing these sweatpants for over twenty-four hours.”

“Exactly, beautiful. If the pants really are bothering you I can take them off, you know, as a favor.” He slowly made his way to her, for a second she thought she saw a pair of rattlesnake fangs appear on his smile.

She scrambled out of bed and grabbed the pajamas she had set on the side table, going to the bathroom.

“Aw c’mon, let me live a little.”

“Not today Satan.”

“It’s Suguru.”

One moment they were holding hands in the Kowloon Walled City Park, the next, they were ducking for cover from the heavy rain. Daishou used his jacket to cover their heads, tucking her under his arm so that she would stay dry. He looked around and found a structure they could stand under, at least until they had a plan for what to do next.

Shaking off the jacket, grateful for the waterproof coating, he wrapped it around her. Rubbing her arms to try and generate some warmth.

“Try not to think too much about the cold, it’ll make it worse.” His teeth were slightly chattering, but he put on a grin, scrolling through his phone to check the weather and nearby restaurants they could escape to.

“That’s all pseudoscience. You should know that.”

“I’m not a science major.” Daishou found his money shot, calling for a ride using the extremely broken Cantonese that he had learned.

When they got into the taxi, she put Daishou’s jacket back on him, rubbing his arms the same way that he had done for her earlier.

The driver looked at the two of them in the rearview mirror, said some things in a language that was most definitely not Cantonese, and handed Daishou the GPS ready for him to enter their desired location.

“ภรรยาของคุณดูจะรักคุณมาก.” The driver smiles, turning on the meter in the car after taking the GPS back.

“ขอบคุณ.”

She elbowed him lightly, “What the heck?”

“Half-Thai right here,” Daishou raised his hand, “My dad immigrated to Japan with my grandparents when he was young though, so I don’t know much else besides a kindergarten understanding. My speaking ability is even worse.”

“How come I never knew this?

“You never asked.” Is that really what their relationship had come to? She didn’t ask so the information was never given?

The rest of the trip flew by, and then they were back on the plane.

“Tell me about your dad.” She wanted to know. And if he wasn’t going to give answers, she was going to ask for them.

“My dad was amazing.” Daishou smiled. One of those bright smiles that made you want to drop everything and only look at him. He talked about his dad for the rest of the flight home, even when she was fighting sleep, she kept listening to him. Daishou held her hand in his.

Graduations came and went.

Birthdays came and a pet snake stayed.

He remembered when she finally had gotten used to kissing, he did teach her about hickeys, and she was a fast learner. Almost too fast.

“Suguru, my turn.” She pushes him away lightly, leaning up on her forearms as the two of them laid on his bed.

“What?” He stutters out. Suddenly very self aware he folds his arms over his bare chest.

“Let me leave a hickey this time. C’mon, my turn Suguru.” It was as if he had melted, his face red and his ears burning. She flipped them over as she straddled his waist, before leaning down and softly brushing her lips over his jaw. Before trailing down and ghosting her tongue over a spot on his neck.

She keeps testing around, looking for the sweet spot. When she nips at a junction between his shoulder and neck he sucks in a deep breath. Pressing another kiss to the spot she opens her mouth and starts to suck at the skin, circling her tongue around the area.

When she pulls away, a small hickey starts to show on his neck. When she looks back to Daishou, he is covering his face and muttering incomprehensibly.

“Aw, I got you all mushy over a kiss.”

“It wasn’t just a kiss! It was a hickey!”

“You’re right, it was just one hickey, but I can do more if you want?”

“No! One is fine! I like one! One, um, one is a good number for today.”