#fluffyaf

You slide the end call button and return your attention to your closed suitcase. The travel checklist you made for the two week visit back to your home city had everything ticked off until you reached the bottom item. Your best friend and roommate since college, Charlie (short for Charlotte), circled in pink high lighter “one smoking hot boyfriend.” An aggravated sigh escapes your lips when you recall the teasing remarks your aunts (and cousins) made when you received a FaceTime call from them roughly eight months prior.

The family reunion included you via FaceTime since it was then that your cousin, la princesa linda announced her engagement with her long term boyfriend. You were in the middle of taking a break editing a few pages for your final master’s project when the hollering of congratulations filled your empty kitchen. With your last cousin finally engaged, this meant that all the kids in your generation, sans you, had a significant other. Well shit you thought. Ever since then, you’ve managed to deflect the inevitable gossiping questions of “¿y tu novio?” at every holiday and birthday call (or text). Successfully, Charlie would add. However, with wedding preparations and planning underway, you’ve come to terms perhaps it’s ok to just go to this formal event stag. Besides, it’s not like anyone you know would have a spare fourteen hundred dollars for round trip airfare from LAX to Tokyo, Japan…

“If I get asked ‘el novio’ question one more time,” you muse the following morning at six a.m. “I’m going to just say he lives in Argentina plays for San Juan.”

You purse your lips and lean against the window of Charlie’s car on the way to the airport. She scoffs because she knows of your accidental run-in with the Olympian on campus.

“Still can’t believe Oikawa thought he was at the UC Irvine campus and he bought you coffee for your trouble,” she reminds you.

“When a handsome man offers you coffee, you might as well indulge. And how many times have I told you I went to high school with the guy?”

“Enough times to make me believe you weren’t a wallflower.”

At the next stoplight before entering the highway, Charlie sees you stick out your tongue at her. Once you had arrived at the airport and checked your luggage in, you promise to contact her when you land. As you turn around after waving off your friend, you begin to walk with your backpack, choosing to head over to your gate after picking up some light breakfast.

Meanwhile, back home in Sendai, your mother is attending the final formal fitting for your cousins wedding dress. Her niece looks stunning in the ivory satin ball gown as she asks both her mother and yours how she looks. The older women fuss over how gorgeous she is, reminding her the groom is going to have a hard time believing she is his forever.

“That volleyball captain is one hell of a catch,” your mother says playfully once your cousin sets off to change back into her casual wear.

“He really is,” her sister replies.

A few beats of silence of goes by before the two women bring their conversation toward your non-existing love life. Even if your mother doesn’t understand why you are still single, it puzzles the older generation overall. Your family means well, they really do, but sometimes it’s just plain annoying they don’t have anything else to talk about.

“Y’know how they are, studies come first,” your mom tuts after her sister brings up the fact you’re going to be seated with the ‘coworkers’ and extended family tables. Perhaps the seating arrangement can be amended (it does on the wedding day, but we’ll get that part soon).

Back at the airport, your flight is boarded and you begin the countdown of seeing the lights of Tokyo city by the window seat. You slip on a face mask while waiting for the flight attendants bring the first round of complimentary snacks…

In Osaka, your cousin’s fiancé is having his last practice as a taken bachelor. His teammates along with the coaches are congratulating him and telling him they’d see him either at the ceremony or the reception. After all, according to a blonde setter, it’s not everyday the handsome responsible captain Meian gets hitched married. A representative from the JVA also is present since there was business to be discussed about off season honeymoon time. The athletes toast with the last bit of energy drinks before hitting the showers all the while the groomsmen are planning the bachelor party at the local pub they frequented after celebrating their victories. It just so happens that getting married to a smokin’ hot angel (Miya Atsumu’s words, not Meian’s) was one of them.

Fast forward to the following day: in no particular order, this is how you find yourself meeting one sharp dressed man who slips you business card when you down the remaining whiskey sour at the Marley’s Pub. First, you father does pick you up at the airport despite a delay due to weather. Two, the drive to your parents’ house is a shorter compared to the obvious long flight. Three, your mother comes home from the boutique with her dress for the ceremony while you are knocked out on the couch thanks to jet lag. Four, around five in the afternoon, you wake up to a series of texts from your cousins including the bride (and one from Charlie which was just a thumbs up emoji after you land). Five, you wash up and get dressed in your best bar hopping outfit since tonight was the first of three nights of pre-wedding gaming, starting with the pub where the bride and groom first met.

Two hours in meeting up with the “bride tribe” and “bros before hoes” groups (as you named them in your head), you realize you’re technically on a whole other pantheon of reality because when the members of a profession V-League team start entering the bar, you’re sure you saved a country in the past life. Either that or the fact your cousin manages to pull the ‘god’s favorite’ card in your imagination makes this encounter all the more nerve wracking because how the hell are the men in California supposed to compare to these guys? They are equally charming and the fact that they are humorous as they flirt with the bridesmaids makes you thoroughly relax. Or as relaxed as you can be when you excuse yourself to order another whiskey sour. You’re just glad to breakaway for a little bit to stand in the background while watching what you missed by being in California unfold in front of you. One thing is for certain though, as your cousin and her fiancé stand together, you can feel the love (and by a certain extent, support) they have.

“Perhaps true love does exist,” you whisper back to your glass when you close out your tab. Raising a glass to your cousin, she winks at you as a reminder that she is family first, and a childhood friend second. Sure, the years after you both turned thirteen started to make you two drift apart, yet you know there is no one else you’d rather be cordial with compared to the rest of your extended family.

“They sure do look happy, don’t they?”

You down the rest of the drink after signing the bill. Turning around to lean against the bar top you notice the man in the buttoned vest and gray slacks. His black bed head hair is spiked in all directions while his navy tie and sneakers completes his look. You close your eyes, humming in agreement.

“Are you with the bride or the groom?” Is his follow up question.

“Bride,” your voice is a little raspy thanks to the alcohol you fishies consuming. “You?”

“Groom. I sort of introduced them after one of the MSBY games,” he answers. “See that guy over there?”

He points out the winged spider with the two toned hair. “That’s Bokkun. We’ve been friends for a long time, yet the bride over there,” he nods to your cousin. “Is a colleague of mine at the JVA.”

His smile is filled with pearly teeth, hiding his amber hazel eyes when he smiles wider fishing for a business card to give you.

“You could have just said both,” you tease when he hands you his business card. “Kuroo Tetsuro.”

You read his name off the card before slipping it into your pants pocket with an playful smile. Kuroo asks you what you were drinking and he buys you a third cocktail before falling in step with you back to the group.

“So, yn, how’s life abroad?” Is the first question one of the bridesmaids asks you after noticing you take a sip of your cup. The party members were each nursing a different cocktail with the exception of you who was on the third.

“It’s been grand,” you muse, swirling your glass.

“Aww, c’mon yn, you can’t summarize being in L.A. since you graduated high school in just three words,” your cousin presses on. She means well, especially since you both rekindled your childhood friendship via the postcards you send for her birthday.

You take a sip from your glass again before really, truthfully, answering the question.

“L.A.‘s a fine place to work,” you say. “Pursuing a master’s is not a easy, but at least I stay out of trouble there.”

“You still ride your motorcycle?” Your cousin questions your underground rebellious hobby from your teenage years. You finish the rest of your whiskey sour.

“Street racing is not my only hobby,” you muse. “Illegal or not, hah.”

“Still have your Kawaski?” Another bridesmaid asks. Your cousin pulls up the photo of you standing next to a ruby colored bike and you in a candy red leather jacket. You have a black leather ensemble along with a golden helmet with cat ears. Your company whistles at that image and when you were asked how old you were, some of the boys, like Kuroo, were surprised you were nineteen then. The bike currently was in the garage at home, collecting dust until your parents saved up enough money to have it shipped abroad, but you were entitled to use it wherever you visited home.

“Mm,” the ice in your glass clinks together. “I got to get that out of the garage and take her out for a spin before I leave.”

If you weren’t cool before, you definitely were now. A few minutes go by and while the wallflower in you melts away, you find it easy to answer intriguing questions about yourself amongst the group. Surely, as the hours go by, the party breaks off bit by bit until you’re left with an extra former volleyball captain, who might have found you ten times more attractive when you revealed your old ‘illegal’ hobby. Kuroo offers to split a ride share with you twenty minutes after your cousin explains that she plans on crashing at Meian’s tonight.

As your neighborhood comes into preview, you are handed Kuroo’s phone. His cheeks are slightly flushed due to the alcohol, but he garnered enough confidence to ask you for your contact info. You flirtatiously call him out for being a playful stray cat, so when you enter your name, you put your family nickname, Kitty, and press save. When you exit the car, you turn around to make a sign for Kuroo to open the window.

“Call me if you’re serious about coffee tomorrow,” you say, waving as he nods from the car pulling away from your driveway.

The following morning, you wake up to a series of texts. It ranges from a few of your old classmates asking you if you could meet up after the wedding to hang out like old times, to family group chats going off about something or other dealing with the wedding planner (including a dress fitting your cousin needs you for since you didn’t really know the color themes and you didn’t want to clash), to two from Kuroo. Kuroo?! You sit straight up amongst your pillows supporting your back when you hastily reply to his invitation to the diner by his apartment.

By the time you write a note as to where you were headed, you realize it will be close to half past noon when you arrive to his side of town. You also indicate that you are to meet your cousin at a bridal boutique near there anyways around three. Inside the diner where Kuroo was waiting, you see he ordered two cups of coffee and waters while waiting for you. He also may have mentioned he ordered ‘chef’s hangover cure for two’ and you laugh lightheartedly at his gesture.

“Mind if I take a picture?” His question is a bit nuanced considering you’re smiling into your second refill of coffee. You don’t object and albeit the photo is a smidge blurry, Kuroo saves it as your contact image. Maybe having this friendly, cordial (sober) date with you is what he needed. Especially since it’s been a year and a half since he had really been seeing anyone, or at least that was what he told you when the conversation steered that way. He does make an effort to not pry too much, since he rather much see where this acquaintanceship leads you two. The breakfast foods with two plates for sharing come out of the kitchen rather quickly than previously quoted, so here you both start to eat enjoying the company you have.

At the bridal boutique an hour later, your cousin had you in the fitting room trying on a series of blush pink and bold ruby dresses (or details as such). You notice the cut and designer are the same as the bridesmaids style, but when asked why yours was in the complementary color family, your cousin states that she wanted her closest family member to wear the color.

“Chi-chan,” you whine your cousin’s name because her honesty made you want to drop the ‘she’s so perfect’ mindset your youthful self had harbored against her when you had a falling out.

She hugs you while you’re in the cupcake cocktail length dress which you two decide is not the right outfit for you. That is, until a sales person pulls a sleek dress from the gowns side and explains to you both the designer is willing to dye this piece because it will be considered retired after this season. You try it on just for fun, and suddenly it seems like this would be the empire waisted one your figure looked best in. The dying process would take several days, but lucky for everyone involved, the wedding ceremony would be taking place thirty-six hours post dye job. You breathe a sigh of relief along with your cousin and she speaks to you through the fitting room door while you change back to your casual attire from brunch.

“So, what do you think of Kuroo?” She asks.

“He’s nice,” you answer, catching yourself smile sheepishly at the name drop. “Why?”

“No reason.”

“Fine, keep your secrets, Chi-chi.”

“On second thought, I’ll no tell you when you’re—”

The fitting room door opens to reveal you holding the dress on the hanger, trying to suppress the blush on the tip of your ears.

“Out,” your cousin said.

Walking to the register, you listen to her explain slightly about her question to you about her colleague makes sense:

“He’s sweet, honestly I don’t know why he hasn’t made more of an effort in dating, so when I told him I had a family member flying in for the wedding…”

“You’d introduce us?” You finish for her once the receipt is printed for the dress and dye fee.

“Are you mad?”

You fold the receipt and put it away in tour wallet, inhaling and exhaling a sigh.

“No, I’m not,” you answer in an even tone. “Not since he bought be brunch…”

Your cousin let out an unholy gasp as she playfully smacks your arm. Embarrassing though it was, you laugh with her asking her if any of Meian’s friends are single in case things don’t progress with her coworker. Spoiler, it progresses wonderfully.

—Wedding Day: 30mins before—

You are in the bridal suite of the temple where the ceremony would be taking place. Your parents are with other members of the family speaking and greeting the grooms side along with other close friends (all of which you knew growing up). A few familiar faces from birthday parties and high school outings also show up, surprised to hear your contemporaries say your name with ease confirming your arrival. The last set of nerves were being cooled and chatted amongst the ladies in your company while the last spritz of setting spray was drying, the photographer took several candid shots of you all. Your cousin’s favorite was where you help clasp her something borrowed (a star pendant choker necklace from when you were seventeen), you looked so focused, while the bridesmaids had the consensus of the mimosa shot with their silk robes as theirs.

A few more snapshots later, including the ‘first look’ for both bride and groom, the wedding planner calls for everyone to line up. Amongst the group of sharply suited men gathered at the end of the temple, you take notice of which number you are (fifth) in the procession, noting your partner after the groom, was the person whom you shared a meal with a couple days ago. Kuroo stands behind Bokuto who whispers an inside joke or two, causing the groomsmen to chuckle. The wedding planner (and his assistant nod to the orchestra) thus cuing the beginning of the ceremony.

“Any last minute advice?” Your cousin asks you before it’s your turn to walk.

“Love him with everything you are, everything you will be,” you squeeze her shoulder, a small smile on your lips. The wedding planner nudges you to begin your own walk, and for a split moment, your eyes meet Kuroo, and time freezes. Sure, everyone talks about how the groom’s expression changes from nervous to lovingly when he sees his future wife walk down the aisle enough, but no one rarely talks about the moment when love at first sight occurs. Every step you take, you feel Kuroo’s gaze on you, and it makes you suddenly feel a bit lighter. You mouth out a “breathe,” to him, and he remembers to do what you suggest. Well, him and Meian both do the moment the bride makes her debut.

When the ceremony ends, you find your hand with the spare bouquet behind held by Kuroo (as are the other members of the bridal party) as a classical piece, jovial piece, is played. At the reception, in between post ceremony pictures, you and Kuroo steal more cocktail hor’devours. If he hasn’t told you already, he reminds you red really suits you.

“Thank you,” you say, while picking up a mimosa flute. Your cousin calls your name as she drags you into another photo with her parents and Meian. Your parents are in the next one as they are her godparents. The photographer decides at the request of the couple each of the pairs for bridesmaid and groomsmen take two additional photos while they change into their reception attire, so you and Kuroo wait your turn. You discuss cliche poses, but one of the ones he suggests is one of the photos that was taken:

“I’ll pretend to whisper something in your ear, so just look surprised, ok?”

You eagerly nod and when the photographer is easy for you, you hold the bouquet behind your hand as Kuroo leans down to ‘whisper.’

“You in red is making it very difficult to behave, princess,” was what he says. His tone is close to a gravel huskiness you found to be ten times more attractive. You looked surprised indeed when the shutter clicks. And for all that is sacred, you bring the flowers up to shield both of your lips. You’ve got a wicked grin plastered on while uttering a curse.

“Unbelievable,” you whisper, pursing your lips together against the corner of his lips. The camera shutters again and you pull away to see if you left lipstick left a stain (it does, and you help blend it away). Suffice to say, the reception goes extremely well. Kuroo and you stick by each other for a majority of the night while various friends and family ask you how you’re doing and (as always) ask if you’re seeing Kuroo. Thankfully, he saves you a couple of times saying, “Not yet auntie,” causing you to quirk an eyebrow. You make several hand signs saying if he is up for it, he just needs to take you out on a few more dates.

“Our friends getting married doesn’t count, though,” you tease when he asks you in the middle of the dessert round.

“Aw, why not? Afraid I’d hit on the maid of honor?” He stuffs a forkful of cake in his mouth.

“Nah, she’s too busy flirting with Atsumu over there to give you a chance, but shoot your shot I guess?”

“I’d rather take my chances and flirt with you,” Kuroo says, chuckling when you bashfully look at your lap for your napkin. “After all, you owe me a dance.”

You couldn’t find it in your heart to decline. As the next song is tuned on, Kuroo stands extending a hand to you. Thankfully the ballad is a sweet rendition of “Something” by the Beatles, and although you don’t dance like would have in junior high, you feel the warmth your impromptu date harbors upon where he rests his left hand on the small of your back. His other hand holds yours close to his chest while he tells you if anyone else asks the infamous, “¿y tu novio?” query, you can say you’re seeing him for a date (or several) before you fly back.

“I wouldn’t mind if it’s you,” you casually say, smiling up at him. “Besides, I still owe you one no strings attached kiss. The post-ceremony one doesn’t count.”

Kuroo chuckles reverberates on his chest and you feel his heart beat increase when you mention the kiss from earlier. He whispers something to you and you don’t shy away from his suggestion. You move the hand that was closest to his shoulder to he use of his face and he leans into your touch. His lips leave a light impression on your palm, promising you a better less formal date on Monday (you explain you fly out next Friday during the course of dinner).

“That’s plenty of time to make you fall for me,” his confidence is astounding.

“I look forward to you try to sweep me off my feet, Kuroo-san,” your voice has a jester like lilt when you hold his hand giving it a squeeze the cake slices are served about fifteen minutes prior.

The song continues playing and before long, you find yourself bargaining with your subconscious, to probably open your mind to casually dating this person. Kuroo is kind, ambitious, intelligent (you laughed at one his puns), and above all else, quick on his feet to help anyone (especially a certain person trying to avoid answering awkward questions about their love life).

Elsewhere, Meian and his new wife, look around them then focusing at the two of you on the crowded dance floor (a good chunk of the couples were still dancing too). He brings her close to his side, draping an arm over her shoulders.

“We did good, huh?” She asks him, nodding to where Kuroo let you rest your head in his chest. Her phone in her dress pocket is in her hands when she takes a few photos of you two to send later before she turns it to selfie mode holding up her new wedding band to share on social media a month later.

“You always do wifey, always,” he kisses her temple.