#hanayachi

Chiffon on ao3 || Yachi/Hanamaki

Pairing: HanaYachi Rating: T

When he first caught sight of her, she was terrified.

She had seen the way he was with the rest of his team, the deadpan insults and the fast-paced wit. The fact that he played with the Grand King, that he was good enough to wear a jersey and play in matches for Seijoh was just one more tally mark in the Hitoka-Will-Never-Talk-To-This-Person-And-Survive checklist. So when he had first come up to her as she was packing up water bottles after a practice match, she had been ready for death.

“Hey, I don’t think we’ve met before,” he said, slouching a few feet away with his hands in the waistband of his shorts and an easy smile on his face. “I’m Hanamaki. You’re the new manager for Karasuno, right?”

“Ah- no- yes!” she squeaked, clutching the bottle in her hands for dear life.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

“Hachi Yitoka. Yachi Hitoka!” She bowed low, desperately hoping he would laugh at her mistake, or worse, murder her on the spot for the offense.

He did laugh - a pleasant little chuckle as he returned her bow, more shallowly. “It’s good to meet you, Yachi-san,” he said.

“Yacchan!” Hitoka bit her lip against the relieved whimper rising in her throat as she turned to see Hinata running toward them. He skidded to a stop, glaring up at Hanamaki. “Is everything okay, Yacchan?” he asked without breaking eye-contact.

“Oh, um yes!” Hitoka stuttered. “Everything’s fine! Ha-Hanamaki-san was just introducing himself.” Hanamaki nodded and grinned lazily at them.

“Good game today, Shrimpy,” he said. He gave Hitoka a polite nod, then turned and rejoined his team.

“What was that all about?” Hinata asked. Hitoka shook her head, bewildered. Hinata shrugged. “Come on,” he said. “Daichi-san says the bus is here.” Hitoka squeaked and started frantically loading up the remaining water bottles.

-

Takahiro wiped the sweat off his face with a sleeve, still grinning.

“You’re disgusting, Makki,” commented Oikawa.

“Yeah,” agreed Matsukawa. “Usually it’s Oikawa’s job to creep after cute girls from other teams.”

“Rude!” Oikawa screeched. Takahiro watched the exchange, expressionless.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Mattsun,” he said at last. “All I did was introduce myself. I wanted to see if I could ruffle some crow feathers.”

“Did it at least work?” Oikawa asked. Takahiro shrugged.

“Their shrimp stared me down a bit,” he said. “But I think I freaked her out more than anything else.”

“Why do you even care?” asked Iwaizumi. Takahiro hadn’t even noticed him joining them. He shrugged.

“I don’t,” he said. Matsukawa threw an arm around his shoulders, lips stretching into that grin that usually spelled trouble for Oikawa, or one of their kouhai.

“Haven’t you realized, Iwaizumi?” he asked, and Takahiro started trying to buck him off. “Makki simply adores sweet things.”

“Fuck off, Mattsun,” Takahiro muttered, finally succeeding in freeing himself from Matsukawa’s hold. “All I did was say hi.”

“And then grin about it for three hours after,” Oikawa said. “Honestly, Makki, I’m appalled. Fraternizing with the enemy seems more like Mattsun’s thing.”

“I wasn’t fraternizing with anyone!” Takahiro shouted.

“Why are you getting so worked up?” Matsukawa asked. “If all you were doing was saying hi, being a polite host and all that, then why is this such a big deal?”

“You tell me!” Takahiro said. “You’re the ones making it a big deal.”

“You are being awfully defensive,” Iwaizumi pointed out.

“So when are you seeing her again?” Oikawa asked.

“Can I officiate the wedding?” Matsukawa asked.

“You can stay the fuck away from any wedding I ever have,” Takahiro growled. “Besides, it’s not like I’ll ever see her outside of matches anyway. It doesn’t matter.”

“Too bad,” Matsukawa said. “Because I’m pretty sure she lives in the same apartment complex as my aunt. I could have seen about getting you a number, or at very least a second fateful meeting. But if you’re so sure-”

Takahiro pounced on Matsukawa, tackling him to the ground.