An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
The last day of OT3+ week… was yesterday, but here’s this!
Day 7 prompts: writer’s choice | “how do you see all of this when it’s done?” | au/crossover
A little different – No one’s POV - just a little walk through their home.
Their neighborhood is halfway up a steep hill, the kind of hill that reminds everyone that this land used to be impossibly mountainous but time has worn everything smoother, kinder. There are trees along the road and in early march, and before everyone loses their minds over the cherry blossoms closer to the train station and the nearby park, the plum blossoms along their road remind them that winter is ending, new beginnings are on the horizon.
The entrance to their neighborhood is about twenty minute walk from the nearest train station (thirty minutes if you’re taking your time, or drunk, and five to ten minutes if you’re on your bike and hauling ass so you don’t miss your train). There are plans to buy a car once they save enough money so they can pick each other up from the station in bad weather and make grocery shopping simpler, but for now they walk or bike up the tree-lined hilly road to their little house.
The house is old and it sat empty for several years before they moved in. They were all so thankful for Tetsurou’s carpentry skills and general handiness. Without him, the necessary repairs would have taken so much longer and been so much more expensive. They all, of course, helped. Koutarou could lift basically anything. Kei used his civil engineering knowledge as often as it applied. And Keiji did a great job helping with the organizing and getting all the permits and other legal stuff taken care of.
But it was Tetsurou’s project. And that was perfectly okay because it meant they got to watch the way Tetsurou focused on his craft while he worked. He looked good, really good, tearing down drywall, leaning over a table saw, pulling his shirt over his head to cool down outside. Sometimes he’d catch them staring and really play up how smug he felt about that. No one complained.
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An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
OT3+ week Day 6!
day 6 prompts: future | “i’m doing this for you, and that’s the only reason” | the parents
Bokuto has some big, wonderful plans for the future.
I looooved writing this one! So fun. So sweet. My goodness I love Bokuto Koutarou.
Koutarou has a plan. He is big and strong and charming and he can get things done. He’s determined to get this one done.
Koutarou wants a wedding. A real, dress up in his best clothes, share his feelings about the three most amazing people in the universe in a room full of people they care about, eat cake, and call Tetsurou, Keiji, and Kei his husbands forever kind of wedding.
He knew he would need to be subtle at first.
Casually, he brings up how nice they all might look in tuxedos over dinner one night. Then he sneakily leaves magazines open to pages with cakes, flowers, freaking amazing tablescapes (god, Koutarou’s going to create so much freaking beautiful ambiance they’re going to drown in romance).
Turns out subtlety isn’t one of his strengths.
Plus, one morning Kei finds his mood board not-so-secretly tucked behind his bed when he’s cleaning.
Again. Subtlety. Not a strength.
“Don’t you ever think about the future?” Koutarou asks, arms swinging out wildly like he’s going to literally embrace the future with open arms.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Haikyuu OT3 week Day 5!
Day 5 prompts: forgiveness | “keep your friends close, but your enemies closer” | fresh start
Me: Let's write fluff, yay!
Also me: *takes one look at the prompts for today* Well, time for some angsty feelings!
I swear it all ends lovely. Clearly it has to, because this is in their past!
No relationship is easy.
It’s especially not easy when there’s no societal standard for what yours could look like. There aren’t relationships that look like yours in TV or in movies. You can’t talk to friends for advice because they have even less of an idea than you do.
In high school, the four of them created something new together. It was fun and confusing. It was exciting and stressful. They were optimistic. With no road map, they could just do whatever they wanted!
It actuality, it wasn’t that simple.
They fell apart once.
Koutarou and Tetsurou were seniors in college. They had been living together in cramped student housing since the start of their junior year.
Keiji was overwhelmed with his pre-med coursework. They saw less and less of him as the months passed and when they did see him, he wasn’t himself. Tetsurou was used to being able to cheer him up, but even Koutarou’s rays of sunshine couldn’t reach him.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Haikyuu OT3+ week Day 4!
Day 4 prompts: family | “it’s halloween. everyone’s entitled to one good scare” | halloween
Keiji balances the family he was born with and the family he's made.
Keiji tosses his phone on the bed after hanging up. His mother. Checking in. Making sure he’ll be home for his father’s birthday. Remember the party, Keiji. His partners are coming, Keiji. We are looking forward to seeing you, Keiji.
His translation: thank you for knowing to come alone so we can keep up appearances. That is what matters, after all. I’ll tell everyone about how you’re almost a doctor, but if you mention one thing about your living situation, you’ll have to leave. No we can’t discuss it. We won’t ask and you won’t say anything - ever - and then we can keep having these little get togethers. We all win this way, Keiji.
He’s analyzed the situation enough times by now. He’ll go. He always will. Keiji hopes the continued invites mean that there’s a glimmer of hope for reconciliation in there somewhere and, while he waits - however long - he gets to see his younger sister and his cousins still. It’s worth it, but that doesn’t mean he’s looking forward to it.
He’d much rather spend any of his precious days off with the three perfect idiots in his house.
Rubbing his face with a sigh, he forces himself out of bed and scrawls a note for his boyfriends for when they get home.
Happy Halloween!
I love you all so much it’s scary.
Hope all of you had good days at work.
(Tetsu, I finished all the cookies.)
Then he draws a little smiling pumpkin and heads out the door to catch his bus to the hospital.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Haikyuu ot3+ week day 3!
Day 3 prompts: domestic | “what an excellent day for an exorcism” | night out
On a rare free day, Keiji gets his boys to dress up and go out (too bad someone's so sleepy).
Koutarou walks in the front door and throws his book bag and gym bag on the floor. Why didn’t anybody tell him that working at a high school was going to be way more teaching and planning than actual coaching? Hired for his athletic reputation, he’d been given the traditional coach role of PE/health teacher. Bright-eyed and optimistic, he’d begun his first year of actual teaching (not just working at after-school sports programs) ready to make an impact.
And maybe he was. Probably he was. But good god, their attitudes. Their feelings. Their ability to get right to the meat of someone else’s insecurities and call each other out. It brings back memories and not always the good kind.
He was bonding with the team, though. He was at a small and, perhaps, a little “rougher” public school with a less than stellar win record, but what the team lacked in natural talent they made up for with a hunger to do well.
“Pick up your bags.” Kei’s voice carries across the house. Koutarou has no idea how he always knows. Kei has a sixth sense for when things are disorderly.
Scooping them up to put in their proper home, he pauses to wonder why Kei was even home. It’s still pretty early for him to be done with work.
“What are you doing home?” Koutarou rounds the corner into the living room and sees Keiji stretched out on top of Kei on the couch, his head resting on Kei’s chest. Seeing the two of them like that, his heart floods with the best feelings.
“Took a half day.” Kei replies softly, his hands tracing lines up and down Keiji’s back. He looks over at Koutarou. “I thought he could use a little extra attention once he got up from collapsing after his 400th shift at the hospital this week. And work was kind of light today, so --”
Keiji smiles over at Koutarou, then turns and props himself up on his elbows to face Kei. “Not 400,” he corrects, “but close. Thank you for today.”
Walking over, Koutarou kisses Kei’s forehead and the top of Keiji’s head before settling down on the floor next to them. “Aw, I wish I had a job I could leave if I wanted. What did you two do today?”
“Not much.” Keiji grins wickedly at Kei. “Some intense cardio. Some deep stretching.” He emphasizes the last sentence with a fake moan.
Kei gets his telltale pink splotches on the pale skin of his neck, the blush threatening to creep higher.
Koutarou laughs loudly. “Now I really wish I could have been here.”
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An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Haikyuu OT3+ week continues!
There Goes the Neighborhood - Day 2
Day 2 prompts: getting together | “i’m your number one fan” | popcorn
Everything began with Bokuto.
Of course now, Tetsurou hasn’t called him Bokuto regularly in years (though “Bo” is still a term of endearment and Keiji sure likes the reaction he gets when he purrs “Bokuto-san”), but back at the beginning he was just Bokuto, that loud, spikey-haired kid at Fukurodani.
With Kenma still at his old junior high school, Tetsurou had been slow to make new friends. Most of the people in his classes thought he was shy and reserved. Kenma would spit-laugh at that if he heard it. If only they knew what was just below the surface.
He’d been slightly more himself during volleyball practice. The two other first years, Kai and Yaku, were friendly with him most of the time. Kai got along with the older players and helped serve as a bridge, introducing Tetsurou and helping to break the ice. Yaku, on the other hand, was impossible to figure out. He was great on the court and they had fun when they played together, but he seemed to get a kick out of choosing or doing the opposite of whatever Tetsurou was doing any other time.
By the summer training camp, Tetsurou was a bit more comfortable. Being able to prove himself on the court had helped with that. His team had even heard his now infamous cackle. But there were still pieces of himself that were carefully locked away.
And then there was Koutarou.
The boy made no sense. Mostly he was like having a conversation with the sun, so bright it hurts but it pulls you in. But Tetsurou also saw the way he’d completely shut down after making a mistake.
“I just don’t like letting anyone down.” Koutarou readily admitted that evening during some forced inter-team bonding outside. Tetsurou had just asked about how his day had been, singling out the only other first year he saw that wasn’t already talking to someone. Koutarou had shared all the little details, every high and every low.
“You’re still a first year. I don’t think they expect that much from you.”
“But I do!” Koutarou replied emphatically. “I’m going to be the ace! You watch me.”
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Haikyuu OT3+ week is here!
I’m writing a collection of ficlets (though day 2 turned out quite long) for each day! It’s been so much fun (even though I’m typing with one hand due to a lovely broken wrist).Â
Koutarou, Tetsurou, Keiji, and Kei moved into a house on the outskirts of Tokyo about a year and a half ago. The neighborhood's quite different from the noisier, livelier, and frankly, younger neighborhood where their last cramped apartment was. No one seems to quite *get* the whole situation, but the four of them can't be bothered to care. This thing they've built together is the best part of their lives.
Day 1 prompts: first meeting | “wanna play?” | old days
“Remember our old living room?” Tetsurou asks, his hands absent-mindedly trailing lazy lines through Keiji’s hair. With heavy-lidded eyes, Keiji nods on his lap and yawns, stretching his legs out farther on the new couch.
“This house is so much better than that apartment.” Kei says from the other couch (the old one - the comfier one), glancing up from the book he wasn’t really reading anyway. His feet are pressed against Koutarou’s thigh, waiting for another spontaneous foot rub or the chance to slip his toes over to tickle Koutarou’s side again. (Though, the last time he did it, Koutarou spilled his drink, so he might lay off.)
“Aww, I liked it. It was cozy.” Koutarou adds wistfully and playfully pinches Kei’s big toe. Kei yelps and pulls it back.
“It was cramped. Four men in a two bedroom Tokyo flat? Who were we kidding?” Kei won’t budge on that one. Ever since they moved into a house, there’s been so much more space - blissful, wonderous, “you can be alone sometimes” space.
“But it was our place. Our first one all together.” Koutarou replies.
Day Six of the Haikyuu ot3 Week for the prompt “Domestic”
Pairing: Oikawa Tooru, Matsukawa Issei and Hanamaki Takahiro
Word Count:1,734
Overview: No one said moving in with the meme team was going to be easy.
Note:Â I have this hc that Oikawa is completely clueless when it comes to memes so
They had only been in the new apartment for an hour and yet Oikawa already wanted to move out. While he was trying to unpack his suitcase, Oikawa tried to ignore the sound of Rick Astley’s 1987 single, “Never Gonna Give You Up” blaring through speakers that had been set up all over the house. Sure it was an okay song by itself, but he didn’t really appreciate being, as his friends called it, “Rick Rolled” and was ultimately confused by the whole thing. He also wanted to ignore the faint burning smell floating around. At this rate all the neighbours were sure to complain by the end of the evening.
Oikawa more or less jumped out of his skin when Matsukawa suddenly kicked open his door like SWAT, “Oh shit whaddup!”
“Why are you naked?”
Matsukawa, indeed wearing nothing but socks, lazily answered, “Dicks out for Harambe.”
“Who the hell is Harambe? Wear some clothes you idiot, we just moved in!”
“This is a sight for you to get used to, Oikawa,” Matsukawa pointed out with a shrug, “Since we’re living together you’re gonna see a lot more of this tight ass.”
“Why are you here?”
“I came to ask, can you cook? Because Makki really can’t.”
“Yes I can!” came Hanamaki’s disgruntled voice from the kitchen down the hallway, “It just burned a little, but I can fix it!”
“Why the fuck you lying?” Matsukawa sang, walking out of Oikawa’s room to mock his other roommate.
“It’s just crispy, see?”
“Stop fucking lying.”
“Shut up!”
Oikawa sighed and got up to see the damage and wasn’t surprised to see Hanamaki hovering anxiously over a pot he had seemingly thrown into the sink as the cold water tap ran. Puffs of light grey smoke wafted into the air above them. Unbeknownst to Hanamaki, behind him the other pot on the hob was beginning to burn too. Oikawa switched it off and carried the second pot to the sink, shoving Hanamaki out of the way.
Matsukawa was laughing, “How did you manage to set fire to rice?”     Â
Hanamaki puffed out his chest, pretending like his face hadn’t gone pink in embarrassment, “It was a special Rice Crispies inspired dish I was trying to make.”
“What are you even saying?”
“You let the water dry for too long, Makki,” Oikawa explained, “And whatever this other pot is supposed to be was left for far too long as well.”
Hanamaki glanced over Oikawa’s shoulder, biting his lip at the miserable dark brown gunk in his second pot as it cooled in the sink, “That was supposed to be homemade sweet and sour sauce.”
“My condolences.”
“Shut the hell up, Mattsun!”
Oikawa guided Hanamaki out of the kitchen area, “I’ll cook, you just go and do something productive. And you, Mattsun, don’t come near in the kitchen without clothes on.”
“Dicks out for-”
“I’m not asking you, I’m telling you.”
Matsukawa sighed, “Fine, whatever,” and scuttled off to unpack some boxes with Hanamaki.
Oikawa rolled his eyes, knowing that he wasn’t really angry with those two dorks – he was only mildly irritated if anything. Grabbing new pots and more ingredients, he got to work on dinner, suspecting that he may have to be the cook of the home for the next year. Oikawa really thought about it, maybe for the next few years? He kind of hoped that this set up was going to last for even longer than that.
After a little while, Hanamaki slipped into the kitchen behind him, sighing in jealousy at the smell of well-cooked sweet and sour sauce.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” he replied moodily, “I just wanted to ask where you wanted us to put the TV.”
Oikawa turned from his cooking to look into the living area over the counter behind him, “Isn’t opposite the sofa fine?”
Hanamaki shifted uncomfortably, “Er, I was thinking of putting something else there.”
Oikawa frowned, “What could you possibly want to put opposite the sofa instead of the TV?”
“Let me show you,” and Hanamaki quickly flew off to his room.
Matsukawa walked in to take his place, fully clothed this time with a silly John Cena t-shirt and jorts, singing along to the song now playing through the apartment, “…wake me up,” he whispered.
“Mattsun.”
“Wake me up inside!”
“Matsukawa, please.”
Matsukawa chuckled and continued singing to himself as Hanamaki charged back in, balancing a ridiculously large roll of card across his arms that he could barely hold.
“A poster? Really?”
“Not just any poster,” Hanamaki chuckled, struggling to unroll the thing.
Matsukawa and Oikawa’s mouths dropped open at the exact same time as Hanamaki revealed a giant, laminated picture of a hideous, miserable looking cartoon frog-like person on a blue background and nothing else, Oikawa wanted to scream.
Matsukawa simply whispered, “The rarest pepe,” and Oikawa lost his mind.
“WHAT THE HELL IS THAT?”
“It’s part of my rare pepe collection,” Hanamaki muttered from behind his poster.
“Collection?”
“Yeah, to make up my pepe shrine.”
“Your WHAT?
“Oikawa,” Matsukawa, with a dead serious expression on his face, said, “The space in front of the sofa should be reserved for our altar so we can give thanks to pepe every day and pray for a good meme harvest.”
Oikawa tilted his head, his eyes narrowed and mouth wide open, yet his mind unable to formulate the words. Was he being unreasonable? Was there some sort of gag he missed out on? Was he the crazy one here? But his doubts quickly faded when he saw his two roommates literally collapse on the floor in giggles.
Not at all amused, Oikawa put his hands on his hips and pouted, “Did you really get that stupid poster for the sake of a dumb joke?”
Hanamaki was wheezing, tears filling his eyes, “I can’t breathe.”
“Then die.”
“Aw, come on Oikawa,” Matsukawa said, trying to catch his breath, “The look on your face was nothing short of fantastic.”
Oikawa turned back to the cooking, looking longingly at the steaming rice, “Kill me.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll just put up my poster in my room,” Hanamaki finally sighed, trying to stand up.
“That’s still a bit weird.”
“Tell you what, for now we’ll put the TV in the right place and then set the table, okay?”
It wasn’t long before the three were sitting at their tiny table with three bowls of a delicious looking dinner. They talked about lots of random things as usual, like how Matuskawa was annoyed that, so far, he had only found several Ratatas in the area on Pokemon Go and Oikawa wondered why they didn’t just buy a rice cooker. It was all quite light-hearted and relaxed. That said, Hanamaki didn’t look too happy throughout dinner, the other two did notice but were yet to say anything. Oikawa had flashed a concerned look across the table to Matsukawa who shrugged as if to say he didn’t know what was wrong. Eventually, Oikawa spoke up.
“Is something bothering you, Makki?”
Hanamaki made a dismissive gesture, “I’m just annoyed at myself for messing up dinner on our very first night, that’s all. Don’t mind me.”
“Get rekt.”
“Shut up, Mattsun.”
“But that was very honest of you,” Matsukawa said genuinely, taking his last spoonful of food.
“Huh? Well there’s no point in lying to you guys,” Hanamaki gave a small smile, “This relationship isn’t going to work without communism.”
Oikawa frowned, “Don’t you mean communication?”
“I meant what I said.”
“That doesn’t even-”
“Well since we’re being honest with each other, I must say I’m disappointed in both of you,” Matsukawa snapped, “None of you have made a single comment on my socks.”
Oikawa frowned and looked under the table, “You always wear your socks with the little marijuana plants on them, though.”
“Oh, you noticed?”
“We don’t have to have lived with you to know that those are literally the only socks you wear, ever,” Oikawa grumbled, “You were even wearing them while running around naked earlier.”
“They aren’t the only socks I wear! I have more than one pair of them, that’s all.”
Hanamaki raised an eyebrow, “How many is more than one?”
Matsukawa gave a coy smile, “One for every day.”
Oikawa shook his head, “You’re trash.”
“Hey, what can I say? I love my weed socks, Makki is a noob in the kitchen and Oikawa doesn’t know who pepe is. In conclusion, we dem boys.”
“Please don’t group me in with you idiots.”
“Besides, aren’t weed socks for straight boys?”
Matsukawa shot Hanamaki a dirty look, “I’m not straight, I’m vegan.”
Oikawa threw his arms in the air, “What does that even mean? You are not vegan.”
“You misunderstand, Oikawa, the weed symbolises my vegan diet of grass and more grass.”
“That’s not what vegans eat, Mattsun!”
“Join us, Oikawa; we have broccoli and dirt.”
“Stop.”
“Anyway,” Hanamaki interrupted, going quite red, “um, since you cooked today, Oikawa, I’ll cook tomorrow, yeah?”
“Makki, sweetheart,” Oikawa said gently, placing a not-so-gentle hand on his shoulder, “You’re not to go anywhere near the kitchen hobs unsupervised, do you understand me?”
“But-”
“Once I teach you how to cook you can, but for now I’m in charge of the kitchen, Mattsun is in charge of the bathroom and you can clean everywhere else.”
“BUT-“
“That’s what you get for burning rice and ruining two new pots, Makki. Now that we’re done eating, you can take our dishes and wash up.”
Begrudgingly, Hanamaki obliged while the other two plugged in the TV to find a movie to finish the evening with. Matsukawa and Oikawa were soon sitting side by side on the sofa, Matsukawa’s leg loosely slung across Oikawa’s lap while he explained who Harambe was when Hanamaki returned. He was quick to join the cuddling by wrapping an arm around Oikawa’s waist and interlocking fingers with Matsukawa on the other side.
Oikawa snuggled cosily between his boyfriends while they just talked, allowing Oikawa’s choice of film, Alien Resurrection, to play softly in the background. Ultimately, Oikawa was glad that they had taken the next big step of moving in together. In fact, he was glad to be in a relationship with these two amazing men in the first place and looked forward to making sweet, hilarious memories with them. However, upon hearing Matsukawa say his secret fantasy was for Luigi to “seductively” fling him into the sun, Oikawa sort of began to think otherwise.
