#fanfickittycat

“This can’t be real” you mumble, turning your neck to one side so you can look at the hickey from a new angle. The purple bloom glistens from the moisture in the air, matching the shine of the crystal around your neck. You think back to the dream and how realistic it felt… You had your suspicions before but didn’t want to confront the possibility that it was real.

“This is…” unbelievable? Embarrassing? Unbelievably embarrassing? You leave the bathroom feeling almost faint as the reality of your situation starts to dawn on you. Did Sylus know? What he said in your dreamscape would suggest he did but how could you test the theory? The crystal warms against your skin and an idea hatches in your head.

Your hands fumble for your phone. It’s still early but you know he’ll pick up. One ring. Two rings.

“Kitten, to what do I owe the pleasure of such an early phone call?” His morning voice is lethal. Somewhere on the edge of a soft growl. You hear him stifle a groan as he stretches.

“I just… I missed you.”

You can practically hear him smile “I missed you too. Did you sleep well?”

You hesitate “yeah. I didn’t want to wake up.”

“Hmm me too” you clench your thighs without realising it “I had a pretty good dream last night.”

“A dream?”

“Yeah, you were there.” He sounds almost nonchalant about it which is irritating you. You suspect he knows this but you don’t want to give in so easily.

“What was it about?” You try your best to match his ease.

“You invited me over to your tiny place.”

“It’s not that small” you protest “have you ever thought that maybe you’re huge.”

Sylus chuckles “do you really see me as that big?” You vaguely think back to the dream where your eyes watered from trying to fit his length in your throat.

“You just are.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

You’re at an impasse. He’s not revealing anymore about the dream but you’re fairly certain about your theory. And you’re starting to think that he already knew from the start that the crystals held this level of power. And even worst, he knows that you know that he knows… you press your temples in frustration. You have to change tact.

“Well it really must have been a dream because I’d never invite you to my place.”

“My, my, so mean first thing in the morning kitten. I’m wounded.” You hear the faint sound of him shifting positions in bed “especially since you were such a generous host in the dream. You even made sure I was nice and warm all night.”

Heat floods south and you feel the prickle of arousal start to spread.

“I suppose I’ll have to be on my best behaviour to make sure I get invited back. After all, you’re the only person I know capable of providing such attentive care in such a small space.” He muses with a soft sigh while you huff.

“You’re so lucky I’m not in the N109 Zone right now.”

“Oh?” You can practically hear his smirk “what would you do if you were here right now?”

“I would put you in your place once and for all.” The crystal grew warmer against your skin, serving as encouragement for you to keep going.

“I’d find some actual evol nullifying handcuffs so that you have no choice but to surrender to me.”

“A repeat of last time you tried to use handcuffs on me? I hope this time it goes better.” He teases.

“You’re insufferable.”

“And yet you’re still talking to me.”

“Not for long, I have to go now.”

“A shame. Have a good day kitten, make sure to wear a turtleneck.”

“What?” Your hand flies up to touch the bruise on your neck but he’s already hung up. You throw your phone back onto your bed, annoyed that he’s once again gained the upper hand from you.

You do end up taking his advice though and wear a turtleneck that morning. Luckily Simone is away on a mission, otherwise she would have sussed you out immediately.

The day moves along fairly quickly, with you juggling report writing and back to back strategy meetings. You’re later asked to step in for a simple protocore delivery mission to a research facility on the outskirts of Linkon which you accept.

“Remember there’s been reports of increased Wanderer activity in those parts so stay vigilant.” Captain Jenna warns.

“Understood Captain, I’ll have my guard up.”

The trouble started after you handed over the protocore. Two fast moving Wanderers came at you from opposite directions making it hard for you to dodge their attacks. And the activity only seemed to attract more. At one point you felt the rough bark of a tree graze your back as you took a hit to the shoulder.

“Duck” a voice shouts and you do so without question. The Wanderer dissipates after a blow to the head from somewhere behind you.

“Sylus?” He helps you up and you feel instantly calmed by his presence.

“Your two o’clock.” You turn automatically, shooting once, twice, thrice. The shield shatters and you make easy work of the Wanderer whilst Sylus takes care of the final one.

“Are you okay?” Sylus’ hands gently probe your sore shoulder. You roll it experimentally. It didn’t feel broken or dislocated.

“Bruised for sure but fine otherwise. What about you.”

“I’m fine, kitten.” You reach for his face and he leans into your touch willingly. His crystal on its thin silver chain swings free, glowing softly from the proximity to yours. Your hand trails down to touch it.

“You’re so mean for lying about this.” You scowl at him but he only smiles and his eyes are soft with affection, which makes it difficult to maintain your facade.

“I didn’t know at first. Not for sure anyway.”

“And you didn’t think to say anything after that?”

“That was a little selfish I admit” he leans into closer so his lips barely brush yours “but can you blame me for wanting to make the most of the time between us.” You hold your breath, anticipating a kiss, but he pulls away and you frown for real, pulling him back to you via the chain. Before he can say anything smart you smash your mouth to his, revelling in finally being able to kiss him outside of the dreamscape. Despite his surprise, he’s quick to reciprocate and you feel his arms wrap around your middle while yours opt to loop around his neck. He pulls back again, though not as far as before, and presses his forehead against your own. You can feel his hot breath mingle with your own as you both pant.

“Don’t you think we should do this somewhere else?” You press several kisses in quick succession to the corner of his mouth, dragging your lips down to his jawline.

“Hm?” You barely register his words.

He chuckles “I admire your enthusiasm kitten, but I don’t think a No Hunt Zone is the best place to be amorous.”

“I guess we shouldn’t waste time then” you quipped, looking down at his lips and up again at his eyes as a challenge. He doesn’t react immediately and you almost lose heart, but then he closes the distance between you.

“Ordinarily I would want to take my time” he murmurs against your mouth, in between kisses “but, I really can’t wait any longer.” You yelp in surprise as he lifts you up, and automatically wrap your legs around his waist. You can feel his erection thrust against your clothed pussy, and you whine in response.

You feel the bark of the tree against your back again, but this time it’s a welcome feeling. The sound of Sylus undoing his belt distracts you momentarily and you shiver, as his evol softly undresses your lower half. The slight breeze makes it obvious how wet you are, and for a moment you think about how you’re about to get fucked by the leader of Onychinus in the middle of a No Hunt Zone.

“Sylus” you gasp, feeling him against your entrance. Any semblance of embarrassment or concern leaves your mind as he massages the head of his dick against your wet opening, coating himself in your juices.

“Do you want this?” His voice is strained, but steady as he looks into your eyes with a tenderness you weren’t expecting. It catches you off guard and for a second you look away and struggle to form a coherent answer.

“Kitten, focus on me” your eyes automatically flick back to his “do you want this?” He stills his actions as he waits for you to respond.

“Y-yes” your voice trembles slightly in anticipation. You can feel your wetness soak your inner thighs, and the thought of him finally being inside you makes you clench.

“Yes I want this” you seal your confirmation with a kiss, only for your mouth to fall open as he pushes himself into you. You squeeze your thighs, urging more and more of him in you until you’re full. He pants heavily, moaning into your skin when your walls flutter around him experimentally.

“Oh, fuck” he mumbles “you feel so much fucking better in real life. How is that possible?” He begins to shallowly thrust in and out of you, trying not to buck too hard and cause you any more tree bark related scratches but you find yourself quickly craving more.

“Sylus… I need more.”

“So greedy” his voice practically drips with honey “but I would be lying if I said I wasn’t greedy for more too.” He pulls out of you and instead lowers you down to lie on the grass. Your skin is so sensitive that the feeling of the blades of grass and flowers tickle you, but it’s a nice change from the roughness of the tree.

“Aw, so swollen already” Sylus teases, softly rubbing his index finger up and down your puffy folds as you squirm below him. “And sensitive too” he notes. He places his hand behind your knee, encouraging you to bend it so it touches your chest and exposes your cunt to him.

“Mmm you look so pretty all splayed out for me like this. Gonna fuck your pretty little pussy until you soak my cock.” He slides into you again, and the new angle hits even deeper than before, causing your head to fall back in pleasure. Sylus resumes his thrusting, and places your bent leg over his shoulder as he leans down to kiss you sloppily.

“Fuck, I can’t hold back” he groans, snapping his hips quicker and quicker against yours. His hand snakes down between you to rub methodical, small circles around your clit just like you taught him to in your dream.

“Keep going” you urge, angling your hips up to meet his as you feel the tell tale signs of your orgasm approach.

“Come on, sweetie” he rubs your clit quicker “cum for me.” It doesn’t take much more for you to climax, and you swear the crystal pendant glows even brighter than before as you reach your peak. You hear Sylus curse and feel him pull out of you to paint your thigh with his cum.

The night is still as you both struggle to catch your breath, and it feels as though you’re the only two people in the world. You’re only brought back to reality when Sylus shifts to lie next to you. His hand seeks your own and he presses several small kisses to it. You open your eyes to gaze at him, revelling in the way the moonlight illuminates him.

“God, I hope that wasn’t a dream” you say, eliciting a laugh from him.

A dreamless week passed and you wondered if you really had astral projected into Sylus’ dreams. Had it really been that intense? Your body recovered relatively quickly, and you began to chalk the whole thing up to tiredness. Surely the sore throat was the result of the cold air and the bruises on your knees were from fighting Wanderers? There was no way that you had physically manifested the effects of a spicy dream.

The bigger issue at hand was that you hadn’t heard from Sylus, which, granted, wasn’t unusual, but for some reason it was grating on you. No doubt he was engaging in his regular nefarious affairs, but he had always found a moment to text you, so why not now? You kept finding your eyes falling on your phone as if you were willing it to ring. You contemplated sending him a message but every time you opened up the app you found yourself chickening out. The thought of even saying ‘hi’ made you cringe, but you were drawn to the device all the same, so much so that it was being noticed by your coworkers.

“Has he texted you yet?” Tara asked over lunch. Whilst she didn’t know Sylus - Skye, to her - that well, save for the time he had randomly joined you for karaoke a couple of months ago, she had often asked you about him.

“Is it that obvious?”

“Are you kidding?” Simone asked, raising an eyebrow at your slumped form. You groaned in response.

“This is so pathetic” you mumbled, poking at your lunch half heartedly “I haven’t felt like this since I was a teenager.” It felt silly to be so forlorn at your big age but you couldn’t help it.

“I think it’s sweet” Tara said.

“I think it’s sad” Simone countered “who even is this guy?” Simone was never one to mince her words.

“Ugh Simone this is what happens when you miss group karaoke” Tara tutted, earning an eye roll from Simone in response.

“I was busy that night!”

“You’re always busy!”

“Well I’m free tonight” Simone insisted, jutting out her chin in defiance. Tara cheered up considerably at the statement. The two of them were quick to argue but equally quick to forgive and move on. It always made for an entertaining time.

“Well what about we go out tonight then? We could go to that swanky new bar that opened up the other week?”

“I could go for that, this week has been a lot.” Simone nudged you “what about you? Or are you too busy yearning?”

“Ha ha” you said humourlessly. A girls night did feel like a good idea though; an opportunity to get out of your head a bit and relax. Work had kept you so busy that your social events had been limited to quick trips to the arcade after missions with Xavier, or begging Zayne to play cards with you, which to be fair, he often indulged you in. Still, you hadn’t properly hung out with Simone and Tara in a while.

“I’m in.”

And that’s how you found yourself in one of your only suitable skirts at a bar on a Friday night.

“Jeez, this is a lot shorter than I remember” you muttered, tugging the hem of the black leather skirt. You had bought it as a set with a matching cropped jacket, but in between Wanderer slaying, moonlighting as a bodyguard for Rafayel, and volunteering for the odd day at the hospital, you hardly had any time to go out, let alone wear an outfit that wasn’t your uniform. It felt borderline unnatural.

Once you had gotten over the initial unease you found yourself relaxing into conversation with your colleagues over cocktails. You traversed work gossip, astrology (Tara), pop culture, and work again (Simone), before approaching the topic of romance.

“The way you fight is so intense” Simone said “you so clearly need to get laid.” You almost choked on your drink.

“W-what?!” you stumble over your words, feeling the way the alcohol loosened your tongue and thoughts “since when was that a thing?”

Simone shrugged non chalantly, much to your frustration.

“I can just see it in the way you move and the way the adrenaline hits you after a fight.” Her eyes leave your annoyed face and look around the room “maybe someone here can help with that?”

“No way!” Tara interrupted “she’s already got Skye.”

“Not officially!”

You winced like salt was being rubbed into your wounds but this didn’t seem to deter the other two.

“It’s a hook up, Tara, she doesn’t need to get married!”

Tara didn’t budge “she’s literally found the love of her life” you actually choked on your drink at that statement “why would she bother looking elsewhere?”

“There are so many guys here. I’m sure one can basically do the same thing.”

You drain your drink ‘the perfect man would get me another drink.’ You think to yourself, about to slide out of the booth to get another round when a hand places a bottle of wine on your table, stopping you in your tracks. The gesture was enough to even stop Simone and Tara from squabbling over your love life - or lack thereof.

“Your glass looked empty.” Sylus’ silky voice immediately made your cheeks flush, and you failed to make eye contact with him.

“What are you doing here?” You asked quietly, electing to look at the way he uncorked the bottle. You could still feel his eyes on you though. It made your heart hammer.

“Business.” He said simply, not choosing to offer you any additional context. He poured three glasses, offering your friends a glass and greeting them cordially.

He made easy conversation with them while you sat there like a lemon, unable to look up at him or meet his obvious gaze.

“You should join us” Tara insisted, gesturing to the empty spot next to you. You almost balked at the invitation.

“I wouldn’t want to interrupt your evening.”

“No, no, we insist.” She unsubtly kicked you under the table, much to your dismay and Sylus’ amusement.

“Only if you’re free” you finally said, looking up at him through your eyelashes in an attempt to still avoid as much eye contact as possible. As suspected though, his eyes were fixed on you, giving you an immediate flashback to last week’s dream where you’d watched his face with rapt attention as he bucked, and groaned, and cursed whilst you took him in your throat. His eyes had seared into your own during the dream and it was hard to shake off, even several days later.

“Of course. I’d love to join.”

You were almost surprised by how easily Sylus found it to speak to normal people. If you hadn’t seen him interact with your other colleagues before, you would have seriously doubted his abilities. After all, the leader of Onychinus was more often than not snapping necks or giving orders. Pleasant conversation just seemed like something beyond him. But here he was, indulging your friends - and perhaps you too - by answering their questions and pouring them wine liberally.

“Do you live far from here?”

“No but it’s not the most convenient commute.”

“What do you do?”

“I’m a small business owner.”

“How did you guys meet?”

“Miss Hunter ran into some trouble near my house and I stepped in to help.” You resist the urge to roll your eyes.

Unfortunately for you, the girls seemed eager to keep questioning him.

“Maybe you can help us?” Tara said, eyes sparkling with mischief “we think someone at the table” her eyes look pointedly at you“has been single for too long. Any advice for them?”

“Tara!” You whine, trying to swipe her glass of wine from her but she manages to be quicker despite the alcohol fuelled flush in her cheeks.

“And do you know anyone single for said person?” Simone added, earning her an angry look from you.

“I’m never coming out with you guys again!” You groan, half meaning it. It was bad enough that Sylus was present, but the fact that he was right next to you made things even worse. You could feel his thigh against your own, and even the smallest movement made your skin break out in goosebumps. Even the scent of his cologne felt like it was engulfing you in a smoky, seductive embrace.

“I guess I’d recommend just going for what you want” Sylus said, sounding thoughtful despite how obviously pointed the question was “sometimes it’s worth giving into your desires. And you never know” you could practically hear his smirk “they might just correspond with the other person’s.”

The night ended not too long after that. It was clear from Tara’s unfocused gaze that the alcohol had well and truly claimed her, which led to her hanging off Simone’s arm.

“Are you sure you guys don’t want me to come with you?” You asked worriedly as Simone deposited Tara in a taxi.

“It’s fine, we live close to each other so she can crash at mine.” Simone offered you a smile and a hug “good luck tonight” she whispered in your ear.

“Simone, not you too. You’re meant to be the level headed one.”

“Well my official assessment as the level headed one is to have fun and promise to give us all the details.” She looked above your head to Sylus, who, after hailing the cab had chosen to stand a few paces away to let you say your goodbyes.

“And you!” She narrowed her eyes at Sylus “you better get her back safely or else!”

“I wouldn’t dream of doing anything but.”

You both watched as the taxi pulled away, and you suddenly became hyper aware of the fact that it was just the two of you.

“Sorry you had to sit through that” you said, fiddling with a strand of hair as you both turned to walk down the pavement. Despite the late hour, Linkon City was far from asleep, and you passed several groups of people still eager to seek out the city’s nightlife.

“No need to apologise, it was fun. And it’s nice to see you like this.”

“Like what?” You make the mistake of looking at him in the corner of your eye, only to see him looking at you too. There’s a softness in his gaze that makes your heart thump.

He smiles “like… not a Hunter. Just a normal person.”

“Well, you looked like a normal person tonight too.” You countered “I was surprised. I didn’t know you had that in you.”

“When I’m with you, I feel like a normal person. Just Sylus.” He’s being so honest with you that you’re unsure of what to say. The joke on your tongue suddenly doesn’t feel right to say.

“Can I see ‘just Sylus’ more often then?”

“Maybe. If you’re good and invite me out again with your friends.”

“I don’t know if I even want to go out with them again. That was so embarrassing.” You huff at the memories.

“I think it was funny” Sylus teased “I look forward to hearing how the person at the table fares in their love life.”

“Ugh don’t remind me!”

“Why not? I think I gave them some pretty solid advice.”

“Y-“ you yelp as you’re cut off by Sylus suddenly wrapping an arm around you and pulling you close to him, stopping you from narrowly avoiding a collision with a tipsy bar hopper who hiccups an apology.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, sorry. I should have been looking where I going.”

Sylus’ arm doesn’t immediately remove itself from your body and you realise that you don’t mind. You’ve both stopped in your tracks, and you feel your breath hitch in your throat as his hand suddenly traverses away from the safe zone of your arm and up to your throat.

“You’re still wearing this?” He asks softly, and you feel a tug at your necklace.

“Of course, aren’t you?” You hadn’t taken it off since you put it on, and it had gotten to the point where you hardly noticed it.

He removes his hand from your pendant to fish out his own from under the collar of his black shirt.

“Of course. This is much better than the energy linkage.” Your twin gems glow in the darkness of the evening. You feel relieved, and cradle the stone in your palm, enjoying the way his own mimics it.

“Good. I’m glad.” You look at his face properly for the first time in a week. He was still attractive as ever. Maybe even more so, if it was possible. He had a warmth in his eyes that you had spied more and more during your time together, and you were eager to see it again. Being with him once more just felt right and you felt a twinge of sadness as you nearer your home.

“Thanks for walking me home, and for hanging out with us tonight. I…” you cleared your throat, feeling pricks of nervousness sting you “I was happy to see you again. I know you’ve been busy this week and all” you finished lamely.

“You do know you can text me if you miss me?”

You frowned “who said I missed you?”

“You did” Sylus smiles, poking your forehead “don’t scowl kitten there’s nothing wrong with that. I missed you too.”

“You could’ve texted me too then.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry sweetie. Let’s promise to text each other more then.” He offer an outstretched hand and you take it gingerly.

“Deal.” You shake hands but Sylus doesn’t let go.

“I’ll see you soon, kitten.”

He had been true to his word because not long after you parted, you felt your eyes become heavy as you replayed the night in your head. His garnet eyes were the last thing you thought of as you drifted off to sleep.

You had never invited Sylus into your place, partly because it felt too personal, and partly because you weren’t sure he would even be able to fit in your house. And honestly? You were right. He looked comically out of place on the futon you’d set up for him in your living room.

“Do you want an extra blanket?” You had been fretting over making his stay as comfortable as possible.

“You’re worrying too much” Sylus said, smiling whilst shaking his head.

“I’ll get you another pillow-“ you jolted in surprise as his hand reached out to grab your arm.

“Come here.” He tugged your arm again, and pulled you in, turning you so that your back was flush against his chest. You could feel the firmness of his body behind you, and you were worried he could feel how hot you had suddenly become from the proximity.

“I think I do want something” he rasped against the shell of your ear.

You shivered in response “w-what is it?” You suppressed a gasp when you felt his lips ghost the side of your neck.

“You, of course” he teased, sweeping your hair to your other shoulder before pressing his mouth against your pulse point. One hand grazes the front of your pyjama top, whilst the other snakes its way around your waist to hold you against him. His lips continue to pepper kisses against the delicate skin of your neck and jaw, and you whine when his hand finally makes its way under your shirt to fondle your breast. His thumb circles your nipple gently, sending bolts of desire down your body.

“Hmm you’re so soft” he murmurs nuzzling into your neck “and warm. Maybe I should have you here tonight instead of a blanket. Although…” his tweaks your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, making you whine. “Do you deserve the position of keeping my bed warm? You were so adamant about not looking at me tonight. Such a cruel kitten.” He sighs and lightly bites the skin below your jaw, sucking on it to leave a mark.

“Sylus…” you try and turn your head to kiss him properly but he stops you.

“All week I’ve wanted to see your pretty face but you denied me” his voice is soft but it has an edge to it “don’t you think that deserves some kind of punishment?” Before you can answer you feel a piece of material cover your eyes. The familiar feeling of his evol slides by you, as it ties the material to your face. You swallow. He had blindfolded you.

You almost jump when his hands resume their ministrations, as your senses immediately heighten to compensate for the loss of sight. He chuckles softly at your reaction.

“So sensitive” he sounds amused “I wonder how sensitive you are?” His hands delves down, stroking the softness of your belly and the planes of your abdominal muscles before reaching down further to the waistband of your pyjama shorts. He teases a finger below the waistband, running his digit along the hem of your underwear before withdrawing his hand. Your hips twitch by their own volition and you once again hear him coo.

“I haven’t even started yet and you’re already whining. So needy.” His hand ends up cupping your core over your pyjamas and you instinctively buck into his hand. His grip on your waist becomes tighter.

“What do you want sweetie?” He drawls, experimentally pressing the palm of his hand against your clothed pussy. You wince, grinding your hips against his hand in search of an ounce of pleasure. The friction from the fabric does help, but having Sylus this close feels like an opportunity missed if you don’t have his fingers in you.

“Use your words” he presses, easing the pressure of his hand on you, much to your annoyance.

“Sylus please” it’s embarrassing to beg him to touch you, especially when you can’t see his reaction.

“Please what?”

“Ugh…” you swallow to lubricate your increasingly dry throat “please touch me.”

“Hmmm not good enough” he clicks his tongue and you huff “try again and be more specific this time.” Again, he eases his hand away, instead electing to trace patterns on your thighs. His digits skim your skin, never quite going where you need them to.

“I need your fingers.”

“Where?”

“You know where.” You’re growing weary of his games, but he doesn’t let you off the hook.

“Here?” He touches the area above your knee.

“Higher.”

“Here?” His hand rests at the bottom hem of your pyjama shorts.

“N-no, higher.” You try to bend your knee and encourage his hand to move to your core faster but he doesn’t take the hint. Or if he does, he deliberately ignores it.

His hand sits on your waist “surely not here?” When you groan in frustration he repeats his earlier request.

“You’re going to have to use your words, kitten.”

“Please play with my pussy” you mumble, practically squirming in your seat “i want you to rub my clit.”

“Ohhh” Sylus’ mock surprise is eclipsed by his smugness “like this?” His hand finally makes its way under your panties which are shamefully soaked through and towards your clit. He mimics his movements from earlier on your nipple, rubbing tight circles into the wet flesh. Your head falls back onto his shoulder and you moan louder than you anticipated, making you clap a hand over your mouth.

“Not allowed” Sylus chides, moving his free hand up to discourage you “I’m only blindfolding you tonight, not gagging you.” You don’t need even have the mental capacity to process the statement. You’re too busy trying not to cream yourself from the way he expertly massages your bud.

“Need your fingers” you whimper.

“You already have them don’t you?” He punctuates his point by tapping your clit, making you roll your hips.

“No…. In me.” He seems pleased by your openness and rewards you by slipping his index finger into you. He slides in easily on account of how wet you are.

“So tight” his voice is practically a purr now “and so wet for me too. How long have you been thinking about me doing this?”

“Fuck…. Since I met you.” You draw your knees up, adjusting the angle of your hips. It wasn’t a lie technically. When he bet you that you couldn’t locate his - now your - broach, you found yourself hating him for what he did and for how he made you feel. Having to search his near naked form for the item had taken all your willpower and focus as to not salivate over him.

“Mmmm me too” he kisses your jaw with surprising softness, and you moan as he curls his finger in you while his thumb presses down on your clit.

“More” you urge, your words come out so desperately that you’re practically slurring them but you don’t care anymore. You can feel the tightness in your lower stomach form - a tell tale sign that you’re going to cum.

“God, the way you’re clenching around me right now” Sylus’ voice is ragged and your walls quiver around him as he adds a second finger.

“Ah, Sylus!” The stretch is deliciously raw, toeing the line between pleasure and pain seamlessly.

“Cum on my fingers” he orders “I want you to soak my fucking hand.” You try to move away from him, the sensation and his words stoking an overwhelming fire in you, but his hand refuses to let you move away from him.

“It’s too much!”

“You can handle it” Sylus insists “come on kitten, be a good girl and show me how much you love it when I finger fuck you like this.” It doesn’t take long before your back arches, and you cry out. You cum so hard you vaguely feel yourself squirt all over his hand as promised, but you’re too lost in your own pleasure to concentrate on it.

Sylus withdraws his hand, and you shiver as you hear him suck his fingers. He removes the blindfold from you gently. The dim lighting in the room is suddenly harsh on your eyes, and you shut them again, turning your body to nuzzle your face into Sylus himself. He obliges you, wrapping his arms around your frame and pressing several kisses to your head.

“Fuck” you curse “Im definitely going to have to get you new sheets.”

Sylus laughs, stroking your hair “worth it.”

You pull away, and regard his lust filled eyes. They look at you with such admiration you almost want to look away, but you don’t. He tucks the sweaty strands of hair behind your ears and you press your forehead against his.

“Oh” you look down, hearing the click of the gems on your necklaces touch. They seem to shine brighter than you’ve ever seen them do before.

“Remind me to thank that salesman for these.“

“What?”

Sylus smiles and finally leans in to press a proper kiss to your lips.

I’m lucky that I came back during the spring, you thought to yourself, as you meandered around campus. The cherry blossoms were in full bloom, and pink petals danced around your ankles with every step. Even the scent infused itself into the air, carrying a bittersweet undertone to it as you reminisced about your time here as a student. The sound of chalk on the board; the feel of the grass against your cheek as you hit the ground during training; the look on Nanami’s face when he rejected you and this world. It had been spring then too.

“You’re here!” trust Gojo to spoil a melancholy moment. You rolled your eyes playfully, accepting the hair ruffling from your upperclassman with weak jabs back at him.

“Gojo, stop” you laughed “we’re not kids anymore.”

“Says who?” he pulled away, adjusting the black blindfold over his eyes “you still look the same.” He teased, patting your head for emphasis. You still came up a whole head shorter than him and then some.

“You don’t” you retorted “you look old. What are you, like 40?”

“What?! You know I’m not” he whined. He was so easy to wind up sometimes. You half listened to him as he complained to you, citing his skin care routine and the regular comments he got about how youthful he looked before nudging him teasingly. The two of you walked back down the path towards the main building, feeling the nostalgia seep into your bones softly.

“You really haven’t changed” you said with a smirk “still vain as ever.”

“And you’re still as sharp tongued as ever.” He sighed, putting an arm around you “still. I’m glad you’re back. I’ve been waiting for an excuse to throw a party.”

“You’re a lightweight, Gojo” you said, remembering the time he had snuck in vodka during the winter of his final year. He had wanted to show off and ended up throwing up after two shots, before he passed out in the same pile of vomit. He had never snuck in alcohol again.

“You’re not, I remember you and Nanami having a drinking contest one time.”

“It wasn’t a drinking contest. We were just having wine and cheese. It was a very civilised affair.”

“You must have done a lot of that kind of thing in Europe.”

“Not really” you shrugged “it’s not really something to do when you’re alone.” You didn’t mean to sound so sad, but it wasn’t easy to hide, especially from a man with Six Eyes. You were glad he didn’t press you on it, instead opting to blabber on about how great his new first year students were, and his unmatched skill as a teacher. Gojo always seemed to walk the line between being insufferable and incredible. Nanami had often winced whenever he heard Gojo start a new tangent, and you would rub his back reassuringly. It became an unspoken gesture between the two of you. When you’d failed at mastering a new cursed technique, Nanami would be there to hand you a tissue for your bloodied nose and rub soothing circles on your back. Maybe that’s why your final moment together was so sad. You’d told him you loved him, and he told you that he wanted nothing to do with sorcery in exchange for a normal, human life. He’d left you crying, and the absence of his palm on your back made you feel colder and more alone than ever.

“…so the official party is at 7 but the real party will start after. Are you listening?”

“Official party at 7. Real party after.” You repeated “I’ll wear something that can suit both.”

You had wanted to ask Gojo if Nanami was going to be there, but you held your tongue instead. You hadn’t heard anything from him after you two had split ways, with him becoming a salary man and you going abroad to conduct research. You already knew that if you asked, you’d be met with disappointment. Still, perhaps it was better this way. You might actually be able to relax tonight and remember what social interaction felt like. You wouldn’t have to worry about what to say if you saw him there, or overthink the black dress you were planning on wearing tonight. You’d heard that even Utahime was going to be there. You owed it to everyone making an effort for you, to be present and gracious.

The nerves were still there of course. You were happy to see the small collection of former classmates and teachers there, and excited to catch up. It was strange to think of how close you all were once and then you’d left and avoided talking to anyone beyond a few words at a time. Now, the bonds between you were a little rusty but still strong. It calmed the butterflies in your stomach to know that everyone still accepted you, though Utahime scolded you for it. Your eyes kept lingering at the door, in anticipation of him entering the room with a curt apology about his lateness but then you’d catch yourself and internally reprimand your actions.

“You’ve always been too tough on yourself” Utahime said, sipping her tea knowingly.

“Sorry” you apologised lamely, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

She huffed at you “stop apologising, it’s not your fault that men are idiots.” She eyed Gojo, who was trying to impersonate Yoshinobu, and sighed deeply. It made you smile.

“Thanks” you wanted to say something more but the lack of social interaction over the many years constricted your words. You didn’t even know what to say, let alone how to physically say it. Utahime didn’t mind however and squeezed your shoulder.

“God, I can’t stand him” she said, pinching the skin between her eyebrows. You turned to see Gojo laughing obnoxiously at something.

“Still single too, I presume” you said.

“You know he could never be tied down and imagine that poor woman” she groaned “it’s best he stays single. Imagine if he procreated.” She shuddered, making you laugh.

Ieri joined the two of you, shaking her head at her co-worker’s antics “I’m glad you’re back” she said to you “being a woman in this line of work is hard enough, and then you have to deal with that.”

You smiled “I’m glad to be back, even if it’s a little hard sometimes.”

“You know” Ieri looked down at her drink that she had spiked “wounds take time to heal and it’s important to cover them, but you also have to take the bandages off at some point and let it breathe.”

“You’re wise as ever Ieri” you said.

“Hmmm I don’t think so” Utahime said, frowning “if she was so ‘wise’ then she’d quit smoking.” It prompted a whole conversation, part jokes, part argument between the two and then Gojo stepped in to see what was happening which led to him being verbally bullied by the two women as you watched on and laughed.

“You’re all being so mean to me considering I planned this party” Gojo said, mock snivelling “and the after party.”

“That’s true” you said, perking Gojo up instantly “thank you for inviting everyone.”

“We’re not done yet” he said, bringing a corner of his blindfold down to wink at you.

The after party was more chaotic than you had envisioned. Despite not drinking anything, Gojo still managed to scream-sing the lyrics to every song into the karaoke microphone, sometimes even trying to elongate certain sounds in an attempt to emulate Mariah Carey. Needless to say, Utahime was so irritated that she agreed to join Ieri outside while she smoked. You wandered over to the bar and pouring a generous amount of wine into your glass, feeling warm and happy for the first time in a long time. Of course, you knew that it was the alcohol primarily, but it had also been so long since you’d had fun. You were going to allow yourself to enjoy it.

“Didn’t you think I was soulful?” Gojo asked, his grin wide and satisfied like the Cheshire cat.

“Very” you said, watching out the corner of his eye as he poured himself a coke triumphantly “I didn’t even know some of those notes existed.”

He shrugged mock casually “sometimes it’s a curse to be so blessed.” You two continued to talk, laughing at the ridiculous things Gojo said as he sat on the bar stool next to you, leaning casually against the bar. He sat up quickly at one point, looking past you with rapt attention.

“What is it, boy?” you jokingly asked and when he didn’t answer quickly enough you turned to look behind you. There, standing cautiously at the door in a jacket and tie was Nanami.

“Finally,” you heard Gojo murmur but when you turned back to confront him, he had disappeared into thin air. You felt afraid to turn, knowing that Nanami had probably seen you. You felt your heart race in your chest. He was here. This wasn’t a dream or your imagination. The wine made your legs feel weak and shaky as you clumsily stood, pressing your hands down your dress to smooth it out. Your palms felt clammy as you did so. Downing the remainder of the wine in your glass was attractive, but you could already feel his presence near you.

“Nanami” you breathed out, swallowing nervously as you looked up at him. You had often thought about what would happen if you met again and you’d played the scenario in so many ways; one where you were cool and calm, another where you cracked a killer one liner; even one where you’d pull him in for a kiss that would ignite the flames of your relationship. Instead, you felt your nerves shoot through your body and you felt like a mess.

“Your hair” you said lamely, reaching a hand up before stopping yourself and letting your fingers curl into your palm in shame “it’s different.”

“Yes” he seemed taken aback by your sudden note on his appearance “I changed it a while ago.”

“It looks nice” you said, feeling warmth flood your cheeks at your pathetic comment “it suits you.” This wasn’t a lie. The shorter cut emphasised the sharpness of his cheekbones, which looked lethal in the dimmed lighting. He was taller too, if only by a little, and broader as well. You hadn’t anticipated that he’d look better after all this time. It made it hard to think coherently.

“Thank you” he said, “you look well too.” Disappointment already tinged in your stomach. He was just as strict with his feelings now as ever before. You both stood there awkwardly for a couple of seconds, wanting to speak and yet not at the same time.

“How’s normal life working out for you?” You asked, hoping your jovial tone would make things less tense.

“Oh. Well, it didn’t” he said, taking a seat on the barstool and pouring himself a glass of wine to join you “I tried to do it, but I couldn’t. Work is shit.”

Your surprised both you and he when you laughed “and what? This is the height of luxury?”

He smiled into his glass “no, it’s shit, as well but at least I’m better at it.” He raised his glass to you to clink “to this sorcery shit.” You smiled too, eagerly charging your glass to meet his. You watched him sip, allowing yourself to really look at him. Your eyes traced over his profile, drinking in the angles of his jawline and the elegant slope of his nose.

“I’m sure Europe was better” he said, making you snap out of your daze “at the very least, the food must have been delicious.”

“Oh, yeah” you said inattentively, thinking about evenings in foreign capitals where you fell asleep over your work with a half empty bowl of ramen next to you.

“It was interesting, and I learned a lot” you said, repeating what you had told everyone “I’m glad I’m home though.” You looked at him to gauge his reaction. His face was impassive as stone as he nodded. Dejected, you swirled the liquid around your glass, unsure of how to proceed.

“You were so adamant about leaving” you found yourself saying, the wine loosening your tongue “I’d never seen you so determined about something before.”

“I thought I knew everything back then” he sighed “I was so sure that I’d turn my back on this and work hard to maintain a normal life with a stable job, and money, and a family to provide for.”

You felt stunned “I didn’t know you wanted a wife and kids.”

He smiled without humour “well, something like that.” You watched wordlessly as he emptied the glass down his throat.

“I guess this line of work makes it hard to have those kinds of things.” You could picture Nanami in your head, in a dark suit and tie as he kissed his wife and child goodbye before going to work. He’d probably be good at it too. Firm but caring as he helped his child with their maths homework or opened a jar for his wife who would cook dinner for him every night. He’d dote on his family too, taking them to the beach and up the mountains or abroad. He’d probably keep a picture of them on his desk at work too. It pained you that he felt he couldn’t have that; let alone that you could never give him that.

He turned to look at you “well that and I knew I couldn’t tie you down like that.”

“Me?” you couldn’t have hidden your shock if you tried.

“You wanted a career” he said plainly “one that involved research into cursed objects and continuing to improve your skills and techniques. I didn’t want to take that away from you.”

“You didn’t even give me a choice” your throat felt hoarse as you grappled with this new truth “you just made that decision for me.” You stood up, feeling woozy on your tipsy legs but determined all the same to get away. You needed air, and the chance to absorb everything you’d heard. All these years you’d assumed he felt nothing for you, and you’d been so embarrassed and upset that you put yourself in self-exile because of it.

“Would you have gone with me if I asked?” he said, following you up the stairs and out of the basement of the bar. The night air was cold and crisp against your hot body.

“Would you really have given up everything because of me?”

“I did give up everything because of you.” You said, turning to clutch the sleeve of his beige blazer, feeling your heart palpitate as your knuckle brushed the skin of his hand. Tears pricked your eyes and you looked down, feeling the rush of emotions you had kept chained away in the shadows rear its head into the light.

“I’m sorry I realised it all too late” he said, and before you could think he had pulled you into a tight embrace. You fought against him at first, wanting to be angry with him for assuming things on your behalf and making you suffer so miserably for so long, but you couldn’t. You gave in, letting your tears blot onto his rich blue shirt. His tie tickled your cheek as he let you press your face into his chest like you used to. His hand automatically began to take small, gentle laps on your back. He whispered his apologies over and over again, finally pressing a tender kiss on the top of your head.

“Nanami” you mumbled, pulling away so you could look up at him. His eyes were piercing as they regarded you. One of his hands remained on your back, whilst the other came up to cup your cheek fondly.

“I love you” he said quietly, pink appearing in his cheeks as he admitted it to you “and I hope it’s not too late to say it, however I’d understand if you didn’t feel the same. I was awful to you.” He opened his mouth to say something else but stopped when you pressed a finger against his soft lips.

Ushijima sighed when he saw you, which wasn’t the greeting you had wanted at all. “Aren’t you happy to see me?” You asked, feeling a little hurt. He told you that practise had been extended by a couple of hours and you had insisted on meeting him anyway, taking the opportunity to get some much-needed reading done in the meantime. “I’m always happy to see you” he said, not letting you continue with that train of thought “but I told you not to wait for me.” This was true. Wakatoshi was never one to mince words, always saying exactly what he meant, even if it was over text. “I thought it would be nice. We always hang out on Fridays.” You felt dejected now, and worst, embarrassed by how desperate you were to see him. You looked down at your shoes which were still damp from the rain and tried to silence the sad thudding of your heart. He was quiet, which wasn’t unusual, but you wished he would say something to ease the aching in your chest. “I don’t like when you’re out late” he said plainly “it’s dark, and all this rain isn’t good for you.” You huffed “I’m fine.” Ushijima always seemed to see you as smaller than you really were; fragile and bearing a label that said, ‘to be handled with the utmost care’. He would never let you clamber on the counter in search of something on the top shelf; always insist you wore a scarf when there was even the slightest chill in the air; and even if you were just tipsy off of wine, he’d make you drink a full glass of water. He was sweet but overbearing at times. “I don’t want you to get sick.” “I just wanted to do something nice for you” you mumbled, feeling yourself stiffen and then relax when he petted your head. “I don’t doubt your intentions” he said, and you peeked up at him, finally looking him in the eyes again “I appreciate it.” You smiled, feeling your cheeks flush despite the temperature drop from the evening’s rainstorm. He smiled too, letting his hand cup your cheek. It was warm, and rough from practise, but he cradled the side of your face like it was something precious. His thumb stroked over your skin softly, and you leaned into his touch happily like a cat.

“Come, let’s go.” He said, taking your umbrella from you and shaking it out. He opened it before taking your hand in his to walk to his apartment. It was a short distance away, but the rain was relentless, and the added gusts of wind made it worst. You winced, as the wind whipped your cheeks, and the stray raindrops wet your back, making you shiver. You heard Ushijima mutter something under his breath and looked up to see his teeth clenched as the wind forced the umbrella to fly up and turn inside out. He took his hand off yours to try and close it and open it properly, but the elements had taken your red umbrella and promptly battered it, making it impossible to open smoothly again.

“Let’s wait there” Ushijima pointed to an awning that hung over a closed store, and you rushed to be out of the rain. “Toshi…” you watched him struggle to work the umbrella again “I think it’s broken.” He joined you in looking down at the broken metal rib of the umbrella and pressed his lips together momentarily. “I’m sorry. I’ll buy you a new one.” “It’s okay” you reached out to touch his arm “you’re soaked.” He looked down at you apologetically. “You are too.” He blinked when you giggled at your shared predicament. “We’re nearly at your apartment” you pointed out “we should run.” He raised an eyebrow “how will you keep up with me?” This was harsh but true. You weren’t built to run like he was, he actually trained, you just lay in bed and scrolled through Twitter. “I have a better plan” he announced, going to throw your umbrella in a nearby bin before returning to you. You watched as he shrugged off his sports jacket and handed it to you. “But Toshi!” “Put it on. You need it more than I do.” You knew he wouldn’t let up, so you conceded, putting your arms through and zipping it up. Only the tops of your fingers peeked out of the sleeves, and the bottom of the jacket brushed your knees. You felt ridiculous but the newfound warmth eclipsed it easily. “Here” he leaned down, squatting nearly to the floor. “Ummmm…” He turned his head so you could see one of his dark eyes “climb on my back. It’s more efficient than you running beside me.” You nearly choked on your saliva when he said that. You had never gotten a piggyback ride from Wakatoshi before, you weren’t even sure he knew the phrase ‘piggyback ride’. Gingerly, you put you secured your hands on his shoulders, feeling shy suddenly. You squeaked when his hand gripped the underside of your thigh, and he hoisted the two of you up. “Wow. You’re really tall” you said dumbly, looking down at the pavement from his height. No wonder he was always so concerned about you, you must have looked tiny to him. “I’m below the average height for spikers” he informed you patiently, but he couldn’t deny the swell of pride he got whenever you were in awe of his physicality.

“Ready?” he asked, adjusting his bag so that it wouldn’t be too much of a bother for you. You squeezed his shoulder in confirmation, holding on tighter as you felt him tense before breaking into a run. The rain hit instantly, soaking Ushijima’s jacket again, and the wind was persistently thrashing your hair, but it was exhilarating. You couldn’t help but break into a fit of laughter as you clung to your boyfriend. It wasn’t something you could explain. The rain lashing against you, the wind raging, the utter absurdity of the situation, the feeling of Toshi being so close to you. It was a heady, hysterical mix. When Wakatoshi bent down for you to climb off his back you almost stumbled, still giggling a little as you did so.

“I’m glad you enjoyed yourself” he said, putting his key in the door. “I don’t remember the last time I laughed that hard” you said, shivering as you followed him to the lifts. He took your hands in his and breathed on them, rubbing his palms against the tops of your hands to warm you up. He led you into the lift, clicking the 3 before resuming his task again. “We’ll have to do it again” he said, “I like hearing you like that.” “Toshi” you mumbled his name, feeling butterflies spawn in your stomach again.

“Come, let’s get you warmed up” he said, pulling you towards his door. He opened it, ushering you in before closing the door. He was so methodical in his actions. With a practised hand he tossed his keys into the bowl by the door and hung his bag up. You unzipped his jacket, and he took it from you to hang up alongside his bag. “T-Toshi, what’re you doing?” you choked, watching as he pulled his shirt off. It wasn’t as though you’d never seen him shirtless before, you had been intimate with him many times, but it never failed to make your brain malfunction when you saw the smooth planes of pale muscle. You struggled to form a coherent word when he tugged off his sweatpants, looking curiously at your warm face. “One of the easiest ways to develop a cold is from staying in wet clothes” he informed, approaching you to unbutton your blouse. Your breath hitched as he undid each button carefully, not wanting a repeat of the time he pulled too hard and broke half the buttons on your shirt. You had to go home the next day in one of his t-shirts and a promise to buy you a new one, but you hadn’t minded too much, instead declaring that you should get to keep the t-shirt as compensation instead. He hadn’t argued against that and now you slept in it. “It is imperative that we shower as soon as possible” he said, tugging your jeans down, you leaned one hand on his shoulder as you stepped out of them. His hot breath against your thigh almost made your knees weak, causing you to grip him harder. You were almost afraid to let go of him when he remerged, holding a bundle of your shared wet laundry. “I’ll put these to dry, you start the shower” he said nonchalantly, turning to put them on the drying rack, as though the two of you weren’t stripped down to your underwear.

The words hung in the air as soon as they left your mouth. After the months of pining, and dreaming, and trying to get him to confess first, you had finally decided to bite the bullet and admit that you were hopelessly in love with the Ace of the Schweiden Adlers. The silence that followed was painful. You avoided his gaze, instead looking at your shoes, a pair of dark heels that you were hoping would bolster your confidence. In fairness to them, they had made you feel powerful and poised, but now it felt like balancing on stilts.

“Oh” his deep voice rumbled, breaking through your thoughts and sending the butterflies in your stomach fluttering all at once. You peeked up to look at him. He was so handsome. Tall and solid, with his bag slung over his shoulder from practise earlier in an effortless way that you admired. He always looked so cool without even meaning to. He was looking up at the pinks and oranges of the sky, letting the light of the setting sun cast his face in gold. Your heart somersaulted in your chest as you waited for something to follow. Anything. But he remained quiet, as the spring breeze ruffled his hair.

Dread began to set in. The flush of embarrassment and the chill of rejection created a cocktail of emotion inside of you, but you pressed your lips together and forced the sob in your throat to stay still. You knew you were going to cry and there was no stopping it, you just wanted to make sure you were away from him before the tears spilled.

“I-it’s okay” you said, your throat felt hoarse even though you hadn’t said much. You attempted to straighten up, to show him that you accepted his refusal of your affection. You tilted your head up, feeling the threat of tears in your eyes. Your lip quivered but you stayed rigid in your stance.

“I’m sorry I bothered you” you managed to say before a hot tear streamed down your face. You turned, letting go of a breath you had been holding for what felt like weeks. You marched away, willing your legs to take steps even though it felt like you suddenly forgot how to walk. You rounded a corner and stepped back so that the cool exterior of one of the buildings pressed against your back. You had half hoped to hear footsteps following after you; a cry of your name or something. Nothing. Dizziness filled your mind and you slid down the wall, hugging your legs to your chest as you wept into your knees. You knew you were being pathetic but really, you had believed that there was something there. Ushijima was always standoffish, but you had felt something kindled between you, a soft warmth that emitted every time his lips tugged into a small smile for you, or the way he’d listen to you and offer his advice sagely. Last week you had gone to a practise game of his and you’d cheered loudly enough to catch his attention. He had waved to you and even though the action was small it made you mindlessly happy for days. His cold demeanour meant that he didn’t do things like that for just anyone… But perhaps his tiny gestures were just that, insignificant. Maybe he was humouring you? Perhaps he smiled just because it was the basic kind thing to do; and he listened and offered advice because he wanted you to stop going on about your problems; maybe he just waved because he was being polite. The realisation sunk deep into you, seeping into your bones. You felt heavy and tired by the revelation. You stood up shakily, grasping at the brick wall behind you for support. You ended up grazing your hand a little, but the soreness felt good in a weird way. It brought your attention away from the turmoil in your heart. You made yourself walk home, wanting to take your time because you were afraid of having to confront the emotional maelstrom in you again. You felt like hell when you woke up the next morning. Your eyes burned, and when you rubbed them, you winced at the soreness. They felt swollen. Your nose hurt too from the constant blowing, and your mouth felt dry and stale. Pathetic was the first word in your mind. Followed quickly by sad, tragic, and pitiable. You had things to do today, places to be that weren’t your bedroom. You ran through the list of chores in your head: it was Saturday so you should change your sheets today, and clean the bathroom, and you needed to make a grocery list and go out to buy the stuff, and then you should get a head start on some work that would make Monday easier. You closed your eyes again and when you opened them two hours had gone by. You groaned into your pillow. Not only were you unfortunate, but you were also now behind on everything. A true mess. You pushed yourself to go take a shower, making the water colder than you usually liked in an attempt to shock you back to life.

You completed your tasks at home, but you felt lifeless doing it, like a zombie. The satisfaction that came with completing the chores didn’t come. You hoped the fresh air would help, and looked over your grocery list, feeling listless. You didn’t want to put any effort into the way you looked today, opting to throw on a pair of jeans that were ripped at the knee not because they came like that, but because they were old. Your hoodie was huge on you, but you had bought it with the deluded intention that this is what it would feel like to wear Ushijima’s. You looked at his clothes so fondly sometimes, jealous of the way they got to be so close to him. One night he had lent you his jacket because it was colder than the weather reports had predicted and you almost swooned. His jacket was sturdy and warm like him, and it smelt vaguely minty and clean like him. You had ended up falling asleep in his jacket, liking the way it felt like he was holding you.

The memory flooded back into your mind when you browsed the soap section, prompting your heart to race as you looked for his brand. When your eyes landed on it felt like a relief. A painful one, perhaps, but a relief all the same. Your hands hovered near the bottle. This was a way to stay close to him even when you couldn’t physically be with him. A link to the stoic man who had your heart. It was a little more expensive than the one you usually bought, and it stung that your normal brand was on sale, but you wanted to allow yourself one indulgence.

Outside the air was colder than last night. You’d heard something this morning about a cold spell hitting Tokyo as you folded your laundry, and you wished that you brought a scarf with you. Your arms ached from the weight of the bag in your hands. In the process of psyching yourself up to face the world you had forgotten your own bags and had to pay for some in the supermarket. The plastic, though biodegradable, felt thin in your cold hand. You gripped it tightly and turned to go home but your determination was interrupted by the thump of items hitting the ground.

“Fuck” you cursed under your breath, looking down at your groceries strewn about on the pavement. You could’ve cried there and then.

“I didn’t know you favoured this brand too” your blood turned to ice as your eyes snapped to the figure before you. He regarded the bottle calmly before starting to pick up the pack of spaghetti, and the bag of apples.

“U-Ushijima?” You hated that you stuttered but your mind was completely blank at this point. You couldn’t even fathom how you were able to form that many syllables.

“Here” he started to pile your things into his own empty bag.

“W-wait.” You put a handout to stop him, but he ignored you, continuing to put the rest of your things in his own grocery bag.

“It’s cold. Didn’t you hear the weather report?” He asked, finally standing to his full height. He looked down at you, head cocking to the side slightly like a spaniel. He began to unwind his scarf and placed it around your neck instead. The brush of his fingers against your bare neck made you shiver.

“What’re you doing?” you mumbled, looking down again. The sense of déjà vu was not lost on you as you regarded your everyday sneakers.

“I came to buy groceries” he said bluntly, and despite all the pain and anxiety coursing through you, you smiled. He was always so reliable.

“I was hoping I would run into you” he said after a beat, his hand held your chin making you gasp. He tilted it up, so you were no longer looking down, and this time he was meeting your gaze. His dark olive eyes bore into your own with an intensity that was difficult to hold.

“You don’t need to apologise or anything.”

“You’re wrong” he said “I do. I’m sorry.” You nodded at his words, disappointed once again that you were still holding out for him.

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not, I…” he stopped himself, and pressed his lips into a firm line. You blinked a couple of times to make sure you were seeing things right. Ushijima was so candid all the time that the sight of him hesitating was new. He looked away momentarily.

“I return your affections” he said, and you stared in awe as a faint pink blush blossomed in his cheeks.

“You don’t have to say that.” He looked you in the eyes again, softer this time. His thumb absentmindedly began to stroke itself across your heated cheeks.

“Yes I do. I love you and I’m sorry I couldn’t say it yesterday.”

“Ushi…” you practically melted despite the chill in the air. He leaned down and pressed a kiss onto your forehead, making your head swim.

“Come” he said, letting go of your face in exchange for your hand “I’ll make dinner.” You made no attempt to protest against his wishes, instead letting him lead you in the direction of his own apartment.

“Rin?” No response. You knew it was useless, but you couldn’t help but try to get your boyfriend’s attention. He was right next to you and he still wouldn’t respond, despite the way you’d call his name in the sweetest voice you could muster. You sighed, turning back to your maths homework that Suna had abandoned twenty minutes ago with no progress beyond the first set of sums. He always suggested study dates, but really it was just the chance to be near you without interacting.

“Talking isn’t necessarily communicating” he said once “I just like to be near you.”

At the time, it had made your heart melt that he was so satisfied and comfortable with just your presence, but lately it felt like a slap of indifference across your face. It was almost as if he thought of you as a pet, or a casual acquaintance instead of as his girlfriend. You looked at him, regarding his green eyes that looked at his phone with more interest than they looked at you. His thumb lazily scrolled down the screen as the clock ticked behind him. You could leave and he probably wouldn’t notice, but you were too shy, too nervous to make such a bold move. You finished up your homework glumly instead, packing away your things when it started to get dark.

“Done already?” Suna asked, speaking for the first time in two hours. You felt your heart sink into your stomach.

“Yeah” you looked away and nodded, pretending to be distracted by the inside of your school bag. It offered no comfort.

“Time flies” he hummed, stretching his arms up as though he had done anything more than be on Twitter. You swallowed thickly and stood up, feeling awkward when he didn’t follow suit.

“Well, I’ll get going then” you said. It prompted him to stand, which was encouraging, and he pressed a quick kiss onto your cheek before bidding you goodbye, but it didn’t calm the anxiety churning in your stomach. You were thankful you lived close by, only a couple of streets away at most, but it would have been nice if he had walked you. A cool spring breeze made a flurry of petals swirl around your ankles, and you breathed out shakily. Strings of gut-wrenching questions began to spin like threads in your mind. Was this it? Was this what you had to look forward to? Silence and your words hanging in the air, ignored? A lame kiss on the cheek as your only crumb of attention?

You contemplated your relationship when lying in bed that night. Suna had caught your eye, as he had many girls’. Tall, lean, athletic; his fox eyes had been subject to many a giggly conversation in the girls’ bathroom. You had thought him attractive, but what really captured your heart was how deceptively smart he was. You could see how intelligent he was. When he was picked on by the teacher in class, he always managed to have the answer, even though his tone was bored, and he didn’t look at all like he was paying attention. In the few volleyball games, you had attended with your friends, you observed how he calculated his chances with keen interest. He was more times than not on his phone, but you had seen him reading classic, dog eared paperbacks too as he waited for the twins to come out of class. It was how you had met.

“Vonnegut?” he noted, making you jump. You looked up to see him standing in front of you, hands in his pockets casually as he regarded you.

“Yeah” you cleared your throat, feeling your cheeks flush at the unexpected attention “I read Slaughterhouse Five last week and I liked it so…” You trailed off, feeling self-conscious. You had never spoken to him and vice versa. In fact, you were surprised that he even acknowledged you, even though it was a little pathetic to admit.

He nodded “I noticed.”

“You… noticed?” you frowned as you considered his words “do you make a habit of watching girls read?”

His lip quirked upwards “no. Only you.”

The chaotic sound of Miya Atsumu interrupted anything more being said, and you both looked towards the school as Atsumu held up a paper with a 32 written on it in red and circled. The blonde boy started raving to Suna, even at a distance, about how he had to do a make-up test and how badly he needed his help.

“God, he’s so loud” Suna mused, turning to walk away from you and towards his friend. You opened your mouth to say something but snapped it shut instead, not wanting to ruin whatever just happened.

“Tell me what you think when you finish” he said over his shoulder at you, nodding to the copy of Breakfast of Champions “I think you’ll like it.”

That had been it. From then on, you’d speak more and more to each other, straying off the topic of literature soon after. Then, when asked to pick partners for a history project, your friends had stared at you in open mouth shock when he walked across the class to claim you as his. His confession to you had only been a natural progression and you’d been together ever since.

So, what had changed? You knew that Nationals were coming up and he had been training more and more in preparation, but he had always carved out time for you, even in the summer when he’d go away to training camps. Was he tired of you? Bored even? You had to admit, that when gossip began to flutter around school about the two of you dating, you were really the one who was most surprised by the news. You were by no definition, popular, instead keeping a small group of friends and interacting with others easily with little to no friction. When you had asked Suna about it, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible, he had laughed.

“You think nobody sees you, but I do” he said, leaning his chin on his hand “the way you told the substitute teacher last month that you enjoyed her lecture, or the books you read in the courtyard, or the confident way you talk in class. I see it. I like it. I like you.” He said it like it was the simplest, easiest thing in the world. Now however it felt complicated. You didn’t feel seen or even liked anymore.

You groaned and turned over to bury your face in your pillow. A soft thud prompted you to reach over the side of your bed and retrieve the fox plushie that Suna had won for you at the summer festival last year. He had looked so beautiful in the light of the lanterns, and happy to consume all the misshapen onigiri that Osamu couldn’t sell that night. Atsumu had practically inhaled the meat buns, and it rendered him full and groaning on the ground. The memories filled your mind, calming your racing heart. It had cemented itself as your favourite memory. Aran physically stopping the twins from arguing who could catch the most goldfish; Kita coming in a navy yukata with his grandmother; Suna kissing you when the fireworks filled the sky. The images played themselves in your mind like a slideshow, lulling you to sleep.

The next morning followed without major incident. You woke up earlier than usual to see Suna had sent you at least eight different TikToks. Something that he did often. You had texted him to say you were going to school early, not that you expected a response. You ended up forgetting your headphones and it rendered your walk to school monotonous.

“Good morning” you turned to see Kita and Aran smile gently at you. You had never interacted much with the two third years, but they were always kind to you, whether it be thanking you for coming to their games or reassuring you that they’d take care of Suna during training camps.

“You’re up early” Aran noted “did Suna keep you up? He keeps sending TikToks in the volleyball group chat at like, three am.”

“He’ll need to stop that soon. He needs all the rest he can get before Nationals.” Kita added. You smiled at their concern, but it faltered as you thought about the wall between you and your boyfriend.

“Is… Is he okay?” You asked, “he seems distracted these days.”

“He seems normal to me” Aran said, shrugging. Kita took time to consider his answer, but he didn’t have anything to add, which only made you sigh.

“Never mind” you said hurriedly, shaking your head “I’m sure he’s just occupied with Nationals.”  It seemed stupid suddenly, but your heart still ached at the lack of an answer.

“Suna is talented” Kita said after a pause “and when he applies himself, he shines but he’s also lazy. He lacks the discipline to keep himself motivated when things become too comfortable.”

“What should I do?” You asked, cringing at the way desperation snuck itself into your tone.

“Tell him how you feel” Aran said, “he’s sure to listen.”

You shook your head “that’s the problem. He’s not listening.”

Aran scoffed “I can talk to him if you like. He’ll listen to me.”

“No” you sighed “it’s my problem, I should deal with it.”

“Be direct with him” Kita said, “confront him with his behaviour.” You thanked them for their help, leaving them to go sit in the courtyard. Your book was open, but you weren’t reading it. You mulled over the advice you were given instead. Of course, it would be best to just say it plainly, but the thought made you recoil. You were never one for confrontation. You didn’t have Kita’s ability to be cold and logical; nor Aran’s willingness to start difficult conversations. You tried to picture yourself challenging Suna but whenever you looked up at him, you’d register his height and his pretty eyes, and your brain would glitch for a full two seconds. How he still managed to have that effect on you was nothing short of witchcraft.

You ended up closing your book and abandoning the chance to read and instead wander aimlessly through campus. It was a stupid way to kill time, but you couldn’t sit still anymore. The sound of sneakers scuffling distracted you, leading you to the gym where the basketball team were practising.

“Those sneaky bastards” you heard, prompting you to look to your right where an angry Atsumu stood with his hands on his hips.

“They know Thursday is our day.”

“Atsumu” his brother said in between bites of onigiri “today is Friday.”

“Oh.” Atsumu raked a hand through his blonde hair, hiding his obvious embarrassed flush “don’t say anythin’ ‘Samu, I don’t wanna hear it.”

“Eh? I’m jus’ tryin’ to eat” Osamu mumbled, mouth full of rice. He noticed you looking at him and raised a hand in greeting.

“Is Suna ‘ere too?” Osamu asked, making Atsumu look away from the basketball team and at you instead.

You shook your head “no, I got here early. Um…” You hesitated, unsure whether or not you should ask “about Rintaro… How do I...” you struggled to describe the situation “how do I get him to pay attention to me?”

“Aren’t you his girl?” Atsumu asked, cocking his head to the side.

“Idiot. She means he’s bein’ negligent.”

“Don’t call me an idiot, yer the one who forgot to buy milk yesterday!”

“You forgot too!” “Quiet dumbass, we’re s’pposed to be helpin” Osamu snapped, looking back at you.

“Oh yea” Atsumu laughed, the fight already forgotten in his mind “hmmm… Suna likes lace.” You blinked at him and Osamu smacked the back of his head.

“Ignore him. Bake him somethin’. Or go out an’ eat. Or-“

“Not everyone thinks with their stomachs” Atsumu retaliated, smacking his brother on the back of the head too. They started to squabble again, and you watched, wondering whether you should walk away or film them.

“This has to be a new record” you felt yourself flinch at the sound of Suna’s voice “it’s not even nine.”

“Rin“ you murmured his name as his lips ghosted your temple, you felt the words in your throat but before you could even form the letters on your lips, he had whipped out his phone to film the twins. They were on the floor at this point, and you sighed, watching your boyfriend kneel down to get a better shot. You turn to go to class, in dismay about what to do.

You had to push yourself to focus on class that day, conscious of the fact that Suna was sitting at the opposite side of the classroom, towards the back, making it too hard to turn and look at him subtly. You were driving yourself crazy thinking about it. When it came to your turn to read aloud in class, you were uncharacteristically shaky and even the teacher seemed concerned. She asked you quietly before lunch if you were feeling okay, and you flushed and quickly reassured her that you were fine.

Your friends however were not so easily duped. You sat on the roof of the school with them, dodging questions and shrugging when they asked.

“Is it Suna?” Misa asked, frowning “is he treating you right?”

“He’s not treating me wrong” you mumbled, stirring your chopsticks into the cold udon.

“I knew it. I’m going to beat him up after class” Misa said, aggressively stabbing her omelette, making Ami pinch the skin between her eyebrows.

“I don’t think you need to go that far” Ami said, turning to you “you know you can tell us anything.”

Your heart warmed “Rintaro is just… I feel like I’m boring him.”

Misa made a sound of disagreement “his personality is being hot and sending memes. You’re way better.” It was funny to hear her speak like that considering how much fangirling she did when you two started dating.

“He’s always been withdrawn” Ami said, “even in elementary school and middle school he was disinterested.” Ami had been surprised when you and Suna became an item; she had known him since first grade and always knew him to be reserved.

You sighed, closing your eyes to concentrate on the slight breeze and the warmth of the sunlight. No one seemed to be offering the same opinions except that Suna was just like that, and you should’ve known better. It made you upset that everyone thought so little of him.

“He’s a good boyfriend” you insisted lamely “he’s thoughtful and considerate and I like him a lot.”

“He doesn’t sound like it” Misa scoffed, earning a sharp nudge from Ami.

“Well, he is” you snapped, immediately feeling guilty “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be like that.” To your surprise Misa laughed.

“Maybe you ought to be more like that” she said, eating another bite thoughtfully “you’re never aggressive or argumentative. Maybe you should raise some hell.”

“Yeah, that sounds mature” Ami said, pushing up her glasses “but maybe being a little more assertive would be beneficial.”

The mix of opinions and advice stayed with you that afternoon. Perhaps you should insist more. You knew Suna had practise that afternoon, and though you’d usually insist on waiting for him, you decided to leave instead and figure out what you needed to do. Tomorrow, he had promised that you two could hang out. It would probably just be watching a movie in his room, or at the very most, going out for pizza. Your fist clenched. You knew what you had to do.

As you predicted, Suna asked you over to watch a really bad movie he had found online that promised bad CGI aliens and not a trace of coherent storytelling. You entered his room, taking care to keep your composure as he accepted the Tupperware box of cookies you baked for the occasion.

“Chocolate chip” he hummed “don’t tell Kita that I’m indulging like this.”

“I’m not making any promises” you said, earning a raised eyebrow from him in response but he said nothing. You bit the inside of your cheek, hesitating before shrugging off your jacket and sitting next to him on his bed. He played the movie on his laptop, putting one arm around you casually.

“You feel stiff” he commented, and you relaxed your muscles, telling yourself to calm down.

“I’m just really tense about these aliens” you said, nodding at the screen where a squadron of lanky green creatures discussed their plan to blow up the Earth. Out the corner of your eye you saw him smile and held your breath when he pressed his cheek against the top of your head. Already your resolve was melting. Maybe you had been exaggerating his lack of attention? Maybe he had snapped out of it? You snuggled into his chest, feeling happier already.

Then he reached for his phone.

You snuck a glance up at him, wanting to gauge how distracted he was. His face was impassive as his thumb scrolled down his twitter feed. He stopped to read something before continuing.

“Rin” you said softly. He did nothing. “Rintaro.” Nothing again. You nudged your foot down onto the spacebar of his laptop to pause the film. He didn’t notice. You bit your lip. It was now or never.

“Suna Rintaro” you said in a clipped tone, swinging your leg over so you were straddling him. He dropped his phone and it bounced off the bed and onto the floor.

“What… What are you doing?” You grasped his chin, bringing it up so that he had no choice but to look at you.

“Pay attention to me” you said with a frown “you’re always on your phone when we’re together and you act like I’m not even here.” You felt yourself swallow nervously and your face flush with heat, but you pushed yourself to keep it up.

“Am I boring you?”

He blinked at you “no.”

Unsatisfied you clicked your tongue “do you still like me?”

“Yes.”

“Then why don’t you look at me instead? Or respond when I call you? It’s not nice of you.” He opened his mouth and then closed it again, considering his words.

“I’m sorry, angel” he said, using the pet name that he only brought out on rare occasions “I didn’t mean to ignore you. You’re right it wasn’t fair of me. Can you forgive me?” You could feel your heart hammer in your chest as he glanced up at you, loosening your grip on his chin with his hand and then pressing a kiss to it. His expression was so tender; something you’d seldom see unless you were in the midst of passion.

You pressed your lips together for a moment and said “no.”

“No?” He repeated, furrowing his brow in confusion.

“No” you said firmer, fisting the material of his t-shirt. Your knuckles brushed against the milky white of his skin.

“Your actions have consequences, Rintaro” you said, “I will not be ignored.”

“Oh?” he murmured, his hands lingered on the backs of your thighs and inched their way up your skirt.

“R-Rin” you struggled to maintain your demeanour “I’m serious.”

“I know but you’re so cute when you’re serious” he cooed, squeezing your flesh and smiling when you bit your lip “hmm these feel different.” He let go of your ass and brought his hands around to the front of your skirt, lifting it and whistling at your new purchase.

“They’re a new set” you mumbled.

“Pretty” his eyes darkened as he took in the vision of you in black lace “is this why Atsumu was talking about lace?”

You spluttered “w-what? How do you know about that?” He shrugged playfully, letting your skirt fall back down in exchange for undoing the buttons of your blouse.

“Everyone knows Atsumu can’t keep a secret” he hummed in pleasure at the sight of the matching bra “all this for me?”

“I have to get your attention somehow” you muttered, looking away from him.

“Angel” he called “I am sorry about that. Let me make it up to you.” He leaned forward to press a kiss onto your sternum. He continued to pepper your heated skin with kisses to get you to look at him again.

You sighed “you’re hard to be mad at.”

He smiled triumphantly “does that mean I’m forgiven?”

“No.”

“You’re a tough cookie” he said, “I guess I’ll have to try harder.” One arm curled around your waist, pushing you closer to him so he was able to capture your lips. He smiled when he elicited a soft gasp from you as his free hand gripped your thigh. He kneaded the flesh, making you tremble in anticipation as his lips continued to kiss your own. He hissed when you bit down on his bottom lip, making you feel bolder. You kissed down the column of his neck, pulling his shirt and prompting him to take it off. Before the shirt could hit the ground you latched your mouth onto his shoulder, biting down onto his skin and making him curse under his breath. You pulled away to lick the tender skin, leaning back to survey your work.

“You are being punished for your crimes” you said, “bad Rintaro.” You crawled off him, shutting his laptop gently and placing it on the ground. You expected him to wait; after all, your streak of confidence had rendered him speechless. You forgot however, that just as he was on the court, he adapted easily to new situations. He grabbed you from behind, making you squeak in surprise at how swift he was. His arms were wrapped tightly around you, preventing you from moving despite your struggles. His chin rested on your shoulder and you could hear his breath on the shell of your ear.

“Just when I think I have you all figured out, you throw something like that on me.” He licked a stripe up the pillar of your neck, chuckling when you shuddered in pleasure. To be honest, even you were surprised by his actions. Usually sex was a soft experience, with him being gentle and slow as he coaxed orgasms out of you. This time he was rougher; no longer wanting to be lazy and indulgent.

“Rin” you whined when he began kissing the spot near the base of your neck that he knew made you weak “you’re meant to be facing punishment for your behaviour.”

“Aw, am I still not forgiven yet?” he nuzzled into your neck “hmmm I suppose I deserve it. How could I neglect my angel like that?” He loosened his grip on you, letting you wiggle out of his grasp. You turned, feeling a heady mixture of intoxicated by his presence and nervous as you tried to anticipate what to do next. A certain idea had been playing on your mind for a while, but you lacked the conviction to undertake it. You pressed your lips against him hard instead, wanting to build up a little more courage. He was more than happy to accommodate, kissing you back with equal vigour.

“Fuck” he mumbled under his breath when you kissed his jaw, allowing your hand to traverse down to the planes of his stomach. You stroked his skin softly, enjoying the soft trail of hair that led you down to the waistband of his sweats. His breath hitched, and you felt empowered by your ability to make his brain glitch. You leaned back, biting your lip as you palmed the outline of his dick. His eyes fluttered shut, and he began breathing harder when you shed the layers of fabric and touched him. You stroked up and down his shaft a few times, wetting your lips as you watched him groan softly. You swallowed your nerves and leaned your head down to kitten lick the head of his dick.

“Is this okay?” you gazed up at him through your lashes as you continued to lavish your tongue over his flesh. This was a first for you.

“Y-you. Uh, yes but you don’t ha- fuck” he struggled to say anything coherent when you took him in your mouth. His hand petted your hair at first, encouraging you to continue, and you experimentally took more of him into your mouth. The sensation was foreign, and you felt your throat protest against the invasion.

“Don’t push yourself, angel” Rin panted, and you pulled back a bit, using your hand to help where your mouth struggled to reach. You tussled at first to find a comfortable rhythm, but Suna’s soft, sinful sounds pushed you to try. You let him poke into the flesh of the inside of your cheek, trying to find what would feel best for him.

“Good girl” he mumbled, holding your hair like a makeshift ponytail. The words immediately made a rush of heated lust swell inside of you, increasing your speed. Suna’s words began to sound less intelligible as you continued, and you were surprised that his thighs were beginning to quake. You pulled away, watching him whine from the loss of your warm, wet mouth. It ached a little, you realised, touching your jaw lightly.

“You’re such a fuckin tease” Rin huffed, and you couldn’t help but laugh at his pouty face.

“You brought this on yourself” you said, sticking out your tongue “but I think you’ve learnt your lesson now.”

“Is she back already?” Ushijima didn’t flinch when Tendo joined his side, only nodding stoically in response. He was observing the girl with such rapt attention, that Tendo was genuinely surprised; usually, Ushijima only had eyes for volleyball. Girls seemed to be out of the question. Even when the topic of girls was brought up in the locker room, he never paused to pass comment. In fact, he didn’t look like he was even listening to the conversation, instead methodically doing up the buttons on his shirt or neatly folding his kit.

“I hear she’s from the journalism club” he said, watching his friend’s face carefully for any changes in his features. The day had been so boring, and finally something interesting was happening. “Hmmm”. Nothing. “I guess she must want to cover the team going to the finals.” “Hmmm.” Nothing again. “Maybe she’ll want to interview us?” Ushijima cleared his throat “hmmm.” Ah, bingo. “You should talk to her” he nudged Ushijima in the side “you’re the captain after all.” Ushijima finally broke his gaze, looking down at the water bottle in his hands “I’m not good at talking.” Tendo opened his mouth to say something encouraging; to bolster his friend who always seemed to be confident in all his abilities on the court, but the squabble between Semi and Shirabu stopped him.

“Hey” Ohira said “don’t fight in front of the press, it makes us look bad.” The two setters continued to scowl at one another but stopped bickering. “It’s no way to act in front of a girl” Tendo added, slapping a hand on his teammates backs “especially a cute girl.” His eyes trailed over to look at Wakatoshi who’s impassive face was betrayed by the way his hands mindlessly fiddled with the blue bottle in his hands. “I guess she’s cute” Semi agreed “if you like that kind of girl.” “What kind of girl is that?” Ushijima asked, making his teammates look up at him in shock. “W-well you know…” Semi struggled to come up with the words to describe her “she’s clumsy, did you see the way she almost tripped coming in here?” “Yeah, but she got up again with that super determined face” Shirabu interjected “like she was so nervous she was overcompensating.” “She seems energetic” Ohira said “and tenacious.” “Those are good traits” Wakatoshi said offhandedly. “They are” Tendo agreed, egging him on “and she has pretty, long hair. I usually like short hair on girls but even I have to admit that it’s very becoming on her. Right, Miracle Boy?” Ushijima looked up at her again, observing the waves of thick, dark hair that flowed past her shoulders. She tucked a strand behind her ear as she continued to speak to Coach Washijo and note down the things he said in her notebook. “Yes” he agreed “it is.”

Ushijima continued to think about the mystery girl as he got changed. Who was she? Tendo had said she was here on behalf of the school paper, but usually whenever they were written about, it was a sandy haired boy who came by. Why had he never seen her before? He idly put his jacket on, pondering what the feeling in his chest was. A sort of warmth and tenderness. He hoped he wasn’t getting ill.

“Before you all go” Coach Washijo said, stopping the boys from leaving the gym “remember we have practise on Saturday, and I expect you all to be there bright and early at 6am. No excuses. Also, we’ll have a member of the journalism club with us this week so watch your mouths.” He looked pointedly at Semi, who’s cheeks flushed red, much to the enjoyment of Shirabu who nudged him. Ushijima wanted to ask what her name was, but they were dismissed in the next instance and it seemed pointless.

The girl stayed on Ushijima’s mind. That evening he had several hazy dreams all involving her. In one, he just remembered her looking at him and smiling so brightly that he managed to miss a relatively easy receive. In another, she was interviewing him, and he was struggling to answer coherently. He didn’t remember the last one very well, but in it she was holding his hands. He woke up with her phantom touch still on him. He turned his head to squint at his alarm clock. It was almost five am, way too early for him to consider rising. He closed his eyes again, but sleep didn’t find him. He took his phone off charge and looked for Tendo’s number to text. He had insisted that he get a phone, but he didn’t use it much.

U: Tendo, are you awake? I have a query. 4:58am

He didn’t expect to get a response and instead went to take a cold shower to focus his mind. The cold water was a welcome distraction, and he felt his body leave the dreamy warm state it was in. Today he had practise until noon, but nothing especially pressing to do afterwards. Perhaps he’d take a jog before dinner. He knew he should probably make time to review some tapes from their last practise game too. Despite him concentrating on his own schedule, his mind once again wandered to her. What would she do today?

He left the shower, padding back to his room with a towel around his shoulders. His phone buzzed.

T: What query could you possibly have at 5am??? 5:08am T: Lay it on me, Miracle Boy 5:09am

He picked up his phone, struggling to come up with a coherent sentence.

U: The girl has remained in my mind. I think I must be getting ill, should I tell coach today? 5:12am T: Sounds like love sickness to me ;) 5:12am U: I’m not familiar with that illness 5:1am T: -_- It’s a good thing you found volleyball 5:14am U: I don’t understand 5:14am T: We’ll talk about it later 5:15am U: Ok 5:15am

“She’s here” Ushijima blinked at the girl, standing before them. She looked sleepy, clutching a thermos as she greeted the volleyball team members. Her hair was tied up into a ponytail, which Ushijima didn’t like nearly as much as her hair being out. Still, there was something admittedly quite cute about seeing her like this; dreamy eyed, red cheeked, and cosy in her fluffy jumper. She shouldn’t be out here in the cold, watching the boys do laps, she should be tucked up in bed with her hair being petted gently. The thought made Ushijima flush. He resolved to himself that he was going to concentrate on practise and not on this girl, whose name he still didn’t know.

“So, lover boy” Tendo teased, as he shrugged off his track jacket alongside his friend “you like her?” The boys had entered the gym now to do some routine stretches before doing drills, and Tendo had taken the opportunity to speak up. “I don’t know her.” “But you think she’s cute?” Ushijma paused and swallowed “yes, I suppose so.” “Don’t worry, I’ve got your back.” Tendo winked at him and Ushijima frowned. Surely, he had his back? In their current formation he tended to be behind the Guess Monster. He shook his head free of the thought and went to join the others.

“Take a twenty-minute break and then we’ll do three on three!” “Yes, coach!” The lapse in practise was a welcome one, and Ushijima wiped the sweat off his brow with his towel, grateful for the moment to breathe. “This is your chance” Tendo sang, jutting his chin out at the girl who was speaking to Semi. “It’s rude to interrupt” he said, feeling a sinking feeling in his chest as she laughed at something Semi said. What was this? He felt something brew in his chest that made his teeth clench in annoyance at his teammate. He gripped the water bottle, turning away to drink. “Don’t be angry” Tendo chided “I’ve found out her name…”

*** You stood, trying to follow the game but it was difficult to really grasp what was happening. The ball was shot back and forth with such ferocity that you worried it would hit you. How embarrassing you cringed, picturing yourself getting smacked in the face with the volleyball. You took a step back for safe measure, trying to remember what Haruki had told you.

“The piece is about emotion as much as it’s about sport.” “What kind of feelings can hitting a ball possibly inspire?” You said skeptically. Haruki smiled apologetically “I’m sorry you have to take over for me” “You didn’t ask for a family death” you said, feeling sorry “I’ll do my best.” “You’re a talented writer. Just put your own spin on it, like you always do. I promise this is the last time you’ll have to write a sports piece.”

You had to admit, that despite the dread and the unmistakable sinking feeling in your gut from being out of your depth, you were also in awe of the players. The way they were able to make split second decisions that ensured the ball’s return to the other side of the court; the constant movement… It was actually impressive.

The red-haired boy – you still didn’t know them by name – had an almost eerie gift for knowing what the opposing side was going to do. You scribbled it down, annoyed when you dropped your biro.

“Look out!” Your head tilted up to see your worst fear coming true. The ball was flying towards you and you felt like you had frozen, eyes wide like a deer in headlights. You braced yourself for impact, lowering your head again but the hit never came. You heard a scuffle near you, and you opened your eyes to see the tall one with the olive hair hit the ball away. He met your stunned eyes with his formidable ones. You’d heard of this one. Ushijima the captain of the team. Haruki had assured you that despite his daunting exterior and intimidating manner, he was nobody to legitimately fear. Unless you were on the other team that is…

He looked away first, running back to the court to be alongside his teammates without a glance back. You felt winded. Whatever had just happened felt so intense that it was strange to believe that it was only a couple of seconds long. The sound of a whistle blowing, and the shouts of the demon coach did nothing to snap you out of it.