#kyotani

for months, the dynamic was a slow dance of confusion. you would offer him a granola bar, he would take it like it was a sacred offering, and then immediately turn his back to eat it so you wouldn’t see him looking at you with that strange, wide-eyed vulnerability he only ever reserved for you.

but you were tired. you were so, so tired of the silence. you were tired of the way he would look at you like you were the moon and he was a telescope, only for him to turn away and growl at someone else the second you tried to hold a conversation about your day. you decided, with a heavy, aching heart, that he hated you. or, at the very least, he was tolerating you out of a weird, dog-like sense of obligation.

so, you started to pull back.

you stopped waiting for him after practice. you stopped saving him the seat next to you in class. you stopped sending him the random, brain-rot memes that you knew made his eye twitch in a way that was almost, almost a smile.

when you stopped showing up at the gym doors, the air in the room shifted. it became heavy, pressurized, like the ozone before a thunderstorm.

kyōtani was, to put it lightly, spiraling. he was a hurricane trapped in a skinny, muscle-bound body. he stomped through the halls, his brows furrowed so deeply they looked like they were trying to merge into a single, angry caterpillar. he was looking for you. he was looking for the person who usually hovered at the edges of his vision, grounding him.

but you weren’t there. you were busy. or, at least, you were trying to be.

that tuesday, you were standing by the lockers, laughing at something a guy from the literature club—a perfectly nice, non-grumpy, non-volleyball-obsessed guy named kaito—was saying. you were leaning against the lockers, your head thrown back, a genuine, easy smile plastered on your face. you felt lighter without the weight of your unrequited pining crushing your ribcage.

you didn’t see the shadow looming behind you.

kyōtani had been prowling the hallway like a caged panther that had forgotten to eat for a week. he’d been miserable. he’d been eating his lunch alone, staring at the empty space beside him as if he could manifest you out of thin air. and then he saw you. you were standing there, glowing, looking at someone else with the same expression he had spent his entire pathetic life trying to earn.

the sound that escaped his throat was a low, guttural noise that sounded suspiciously like a dying engine.

kaito, bless his heart, didn’t notice the impending doom. he was mid-sentence about a book series when he was suddenly, forcibly, yanked aside by the back of his collar.

kyōtani stood there, his chest heaving, his face a complex shade of crimson that bordered on purple. his eyes were blown wide, and he looked like he was about to vibrate out of his own skin.

“kyōtani?” you blinked, genuinely baffled. “what are you doing?”

he ignored you. he glared at kaito with the intensity of a thousand burning suns until the poor boy muttered an apology and sprinted in the opposite direction like he was being chased by a bear.

now, it was just the two of you. the hallway felt miles long, the silence amplified by the frantic, thumping rhythm of your heart. he looked manic. he looked like a feral cat that had finally decided to bite the hand that fed it, only to realize he actually just wanted a belly rub.

“why?” his voice was gravelly, cracking in the middle. he sounded like he’d been screaming internally for a century. “why are you doing that?”

you crossed your arms, trying to keep your voice steady. “doing what? talking to someone? people do that, kyōtani. it’s called being a functioning member of society.”

“no.” he took a step forward, invading your personal space until you were backed up against the lockers. he was tall, towering over you, smelling like sweat and citrus body wash. “no, you were—you were doing the thing. the smile thing. the soft thing. you don’t do that for me. why the hell are you doing that for him? why aren’t you with me? why in the hell are you ignoring me?”

his words were tumbling out of his mouth in a frantic, uncoordinated rush. he looked like he was suffering from a terminal case of repressed emotions.

“i thought you didn’t want me around,” you said, your voice softening despite your resolve. “you always look so annoyed when i’m near. you grunt at me. you turn away. i figured i was bothering you.”

kyōtani looked like you had just slapped him with a wet fish. he recoiled, his hands flying to his hair, tugging at the strands as if he could physically rip the thoughts out of his brain.

“bothering me?” he repeated, the sound incredulous. “bothering me? you—you are the only thing that keeps my brain from catching on fire. do you have any idea how hard it is to look at you? do you know what happens to me when you look at me? i turn into a brick. i turn into a stupid, useless piece of furniture. i want to talk to you, i want to touch you, but my entire body just locks up because i’m so terrified i’ll say something stupid and you’ll realize i’m a freak and leave.”

you stared at him, stunned.

he was pacing now, back and forth in front of you, kicking his own sneakers into the floorboards. he looked completely unhinged, in the most endearing way possible.

“i’m not annoyed!” he barked, gesturing wildly at the air. “i’m never annoyed by you, stupid! i’m annoyed by everything else! the world is annoying! my teammates are annoying! physics is annoying! but you? you’re not annoying. you’re the only thing that makes sense in this entire garbage fire of a life. i spend every waking second of every single day waiting for you to walk into the gym. i save the best seat for you even though i know it looks pathetic. i track where you are in the hallway like i’m some kind of predator, but it’s not because i want to hurt you, it’s because i want to make sure you’re okay, because if you aren’t okay, i think the entire planet might actually stop spinning.”

he stopped pacing and slammed his hands against the lockers on either side of your head. he wasn’t trying to intimidate you; he was trying to keep himself upright. he was trembling.

“goddamnit, i’m not good at words,” he whispered, his eyes searching yours with a desperate, raw honesty that made your knees turn to water. “i’m not good at being a person. i’m a disaster. i’m a walking, talking disaster zone. but when you’re around, things get better. for a little while, i’m just… quiet. i’m happy. i don’t know how to tell you that i think you’re the most beautiful, stupid, wonderful thing that has ever happened to me, so i just… i keep my mouth shut and hope you don’t notice that i’m completely, utterly, hopelessly gone for you.”

you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. his face was flushed, his knuckles white against the metal, his breathing ragged. he looked like he was waiting for the executioner to drop the axe.

“you think you’re a disaster?” you asked, your voice barely a whisper.

“i’m a catastrophe,” he confirmed, looking down at his shoes. “i’m a total mess. and when i saw you were talking to that guy, and i felt like my heart was being physically ripped out of my chest and tossed into a blender, and i didn’t know how to stop it, so i just… i came here.”

he looked up at you, his eyes wide, terrified, and so full of affection it was physically painful.

you reached out, carefully, and placed your hand on his chest. he was solid, warm, and his heart was hammering against your palm like a trapped bird. the tension in his shoulders seemed to evaporate the moment your skin made contact with his uniform. he let out a shuddering sigh, his eyes fluttering shut as he leaned into your touch.

“you don’t have to be to try and be a normal person,” you said, a small smile tugging at your lips. “you can just be you. the grumpy, aggressive, volleyball-obsessed you. i like that version just fine.”

kyōtani opened his eyes, staring at you with such intensity that you felt like you were being sunburned. “yeah?”

“yeah.”

“so you’re not going to talk to the literature guy anymore?” he asked, a tiny, petulant pout forming on his lips. it was so out of character, so remarkably soft, that you couldn’t help but laugh.

“kaito? he’s just a friend, kentarō.”

“don’t care,” he grumbled, his voice dropping an octave. he shifted, his hands leaving the lockers to rest tentatively on your waist. his grip was hesitant, like he was afraid he might break you, but it was firm enough to let you know he wasn’t planning on letting go anytime soon. “don’t talk to him. talk to me. i’m better at listening than you think. i might even… i don’t know. i might even talk back.”

“is that a promise?”

he ducked his head, his forehead resting against yours. he smelled like adrenalinez cedarwood, and a bit of citrus. “no. i’m threatening you,” he murmured against your skin, his voice thick with a sudden, overwhelming tenderness. “i’m going to make you talk to me so much you’ll get tired of hearing my voice asking for you to talk. i’m going to be everywhere you look. i’m going to be the only thing you think about.”

“that sounds a little bit like stalking, kentarō.”

he huffed, a short, sharp sound, but he didn’t pull away. instead, he leaned in closer, his nose brushing against yours. “fine. call it whatever you want. but you’re mine now. i’m not letting you go back to ignoring me. i think my brain might actually explode if you do that again. you’re such a pain.”

you laughed, a bright, clear sound that seemed to surprise him. he looked at you with such unfiltered wonder that it made your chest ache. he looked like he had just discovered a new color, or perhaps he had just realized that the sun was going to rise for him after all.

he didn’t know how to do romance. he didn’t know how to be the soft, poetic boyfriend you read about in books. he was, and would always be, a jagged, blunt instrument of a boy. but as he stood there, completely unravelling in front of you, you realized that you didn’t want poetic. you didn’t want smooth lines or grand gestures.

you wanted this. you wanted the boy who would bulldoze through a hallway just to make sure you were his. you wanted the boy whose heart beat like a war drum the second you touched him.

“you’re a total idiot,” you said, reaching up to smooth back the unruly hair that fell over his forehead.

“i know,” he breathed, his eyes locked on yours. “but i’m your idiot, aren’t i?”

you nodded with a smile smile, the confession hung in the air between you, heavy and sweet. he wasn’t polished. he wasn’t graceful. he was just kyōtani, and he was yours, and for the first time, you realized that the chaos of his life was exactly the kind of peace you had been looking for.

he shifted, his hands sliding lower to pull you flush against him. his posture was stiff, his movements slightly awkward, but the way he held you felt like he was holding something fragile. he wasn’t going anywhere. he was tethered to you, anchored by the sheer gravity of his own feelings, and as he ducked his head to press a clumsy, hesitant kiss to your forehead, you knew that the days of confusion were over.

the hallways were busy, students were rushing to class, and there was a math test waiting for you in ten minutes, but in that quiet, shadowed corner of the building, nothing else existed. there was just the hum of his breathing, the warmth of his skin, and the realization that the maddest dog in the prefecture had finally found his home.

he pulled back just an inch, his brow furrowed in that familiar, grumpy way, though his eyes were soft, molten gold. “don’t do that again,” he repeated, his voice low and firm. “don’t pull away. i don’t know how to be without you nearby. it makes me feel like i’m getting suffocated.”

“i won’t,” you promised, lacing your fingers through his. his hand was calloused, rough, and large enough to completely swallow yours, but he held on with a grip that was shockingly gentle.

he let out a huff, a mixture of a sigh and a grunt, and began to drag you toward the classroom, though he made sure you were walking directly behind him, shielded by his frame from the rest of the hallway. he was protective, possessive in a way that was entirely him, and as he navigated the sea of students without ever letting go of your hand, you realized that you were never going to be lonely again.

you were tied to the orbit of a star that didn’t know how to shine, but burned bright enough to keep you warm for the rest of your life.

n: i feel like he’s too calm for this.. also i’m listening to laufey’s promise while sobbing

© showhay — don’t copy, repost, or translate without my permission. do not use/feed my works to AI.

The ones who waste no time snatching you right off the table before you even had the chance to grab the hem of your shirt:

It would be like a sixth sense of DRAKEN’s to know whenever you were up to no good. As soon as he caught an inkling of your tipsy self shimmying up on a table in his peripheral, he set his drink down with a sigh, got up and began shouldering through the crowd. It took him less than a few seconds to get in the front row, paying no mind to those cursing and jeering up at him, his tall stature allowing all the leverage he needed to scoop you up, and throw you over his shoulder. You kicked your legs in protest, but stopped immediately when he gave a mean swat to your ass, large hand gripping the flesh through your skirt to solidify his point—Mine.

“Tsk, that was too close. Better not see you down anything else but water for the rest of the night.”

You wouldn’t even get the chance to register the command before DAICHI grabs your arm with a terse, “Yeah, no, you’re done.” Something told him this would happened tonight, especially since you and Suga made it a goal to out-drink each other. At least that ashy-haired idiot had the decency to pass out at their booth. You, on the other hand, want to put him in an early grave apparently. As he escorted you back down to earth, before you could even fix your mouth to give him a sassy rebuttal, he held your jaw and gave soft, but stern, “Sweetheart. You’re done.”

Honorable mentions: MITUSYA, IWAIZUMI

The ones who use their body as a shield when they react too late, throwing threats left and right at anyone who dared to look or take pictures:

Wouldn’t think twice to jump up on the table too, leather jacket already in hand to wrap up your half naked frame. BAJI snatched your discarded top from one of the weirdos in the front, getting in a small tug of war until he eventually kicked the guy loose in annoyance, sending him backwards onto the hard floor. You didn’t even react, glassy eyes merely appraising him with a drunken grin, babbling about how fast he got up there with you, and how his jacket smelled like him. He couldn’t even stay mad, not when you clearly weren’t in the right mind to make the best decisions, and not when you looked so cute swaddled in the leather, struggling to stand straight. Besides, who was he to judge? He wasn’t a saint either.

“We’re going home. You can get naked all you want there.”

The bouncer didn’t have time to figure out what was happening before it was too late. Once he made it to the dance floor, KYOTANI hit him square in the forehead, sending him crashing into a nearby table, knocked out cold. In a flurry of punches and swings, he mowed down a good chunk of the male centered audience, leaving no one but those that have already averted their gazes or ran off to avoid getting caught in the crossfire. By now, the music had stopped, nobody was dancing, except for you of course. Your husband huffed and puffed, deadly stare daring anyone to look your way while you were still exposed, happily swinging your shirt around without a care in the world. Eventually he broke the heated glare to turn and coax you back down with ease, arms wrapped around you protectively as he shuffled you both towards the exit.

“Mm…you’re so warm, Tarō…”

“Tch. You’d be too, if you kept your damn clothes on…”

Honorable mentions: IZANA, TANAKA

The ones who are stunned and stare, before acting:

Like a damn teen caught in a titty bar, SHINICHIRO gaped and gawked, forgetting what he got up to do instantly, as if seeing your naked chest reset his mind like the neuralyzer from the movie, Men In Black. It’s not until the younger Haitani brother made a call from the DJ booth to, “Please get your wife down, Sano. Though we appreciate the view, we don’t need another law suit,” did he snap out of the trance. Despite you weakly batting his hands away, you eventually caved and came back down. But the real challenge was getting you to put the shirt back on.

“Baby, clothes are good, they aren’t ‘flesh-prisons’—No, no don’t you run, please don’t run, I won’t be able to focus if you make them bounce, baby, stop..!”

BOKUTO.exe unresponsive. He would blink owilshly, face stuck in a shocked smile as he watched you take off your shirt with impressive speed, given your inebriated state, and swinging it around like a trophy. He watched as many in the crowd shouted for you to throw it, getting a sense of déjà vu from one of his games whenever his fans wanted his sweaty towel. Bokuto eventually came back to his senses when Akaashi elbowed him urgently when he noticed you reaching for your skirt next. “B-Bokuto-san!”

“O-On it! I’m coming, [______]!” He soon took off his own shirt and tossed it over his shoulder, it landing on Akaashi’s head. He then bulldozed through the stalks of people, determined to take the attention off of you and onto him to save you from further harm or embarrassment. “Hey, hey, hey! That’s my wife! If anyone’s gonna watch her strip, it’s gonna be me!”

Honorable mentions: KAZUTORA, ATSUMU

The ones who join the crowd and cheer:

Let’s be honest, HANMA’s worries wouldn’t even truly be present. If anything, the only thing that troubled him was the idea of you regretting it tomorrow once your head was clear, and being scolded for not stopping you. But, how could he? Why would he? He wasn’t ashamed of his woman wanting to show off her goods, being the envy of the room knowing that he was the only one who got to touch them, taste them. He’ll deal with the repercussions later. Tonight, his girl was going wild and he couldn’t be more supportive.

“Yeah, take the bra off too!” He called out from his seat, phone ready and recording, grinning like a smug bastard.

When he showed the video to you the next day, it was almost worth the couple nights he spent banished to a motel down the street. Almost.

TERUSHIMA was happy that you were having fun. Despite the possessive urge to hide you away from the preying eyes of everyone eager to watch the display unfold, he couldn’t help but get off to the fact that everyone could see the assortment of hickies that were littered across your soft and supple skin, bite marks visible on the mounds like tattoos as a reminder to anyone who thought they had a chance with the pretty girl willing to strip in front of strangers; she’s taken. And so are ‘the girls’.

“Wooo! Yeah, baby, take it off!”

Honorable mentions: SHION, HANAMAKI

he was incredibly independent and was not willing to work with others. the only people on his team that could calm him down were iwaizumi (the only guy he really respected) and yahaba, who was pretty shallow and chill.

then, there was you. not too shy, not exactly extroverted- a sweet spot in the middle. kind and always willing to help, but never a pushover. you were thoughful- not just the generous kind, but you understood people on a deeper level than anyone you knew. your words always held meaning and people respected you for that.

you had joined aoba johsai as a team manager around two months after your first year began. you loved volleyball and the passion the team had when you watched one of their practice matches, so you were instantly hooked.

and well, you knew kyotani needed help. not just the academic tutor kind, but the... personal kind. now, he would never ever ever admit that, but a few words from iwaizumi had pushed him.

"you're not going to get anywhere in your volleyball career if you cant work with the team. kyotani, you need to be serious about this- you've literally been banned from matches with other schools because of your hot-headedness. c'mon, man."

kyotani only scowled as hajime patted him on the back. "whatever."

now, looking at you, quite literally radiating (he cant figure out why) with a shy, nervous smile made him itch with interest repulsion.

"hello, everyone! im l/n y/n and i will be your new manager. i know i'm the first, but ill be sure to do my very best," you said nervously as the team was gathered around.

"oikawa, don't get distracted," the coach dead-panned, looking absolutely drained of life as he side-eyed oikawa grinning.

toru stepped up, reaching towards to shake your hand. "thank you for being our manager! we'll do our very best, too, pretty lady," he exclaimed. like your signature action, you smiled again, nervously.

they started warming up as you helped set up the net. nothing much happened during the practice besides a ball missing your head by an inch. you looked up, dumb-founded as you saw a blonde guy- kyotani, you later learned, scowling at you as he ordered another set from oikawa.

you smiled awkwardly for a moment before walking off to grab the cooler full of ice-cold water bottles you had prepared beforehand.

after practice, you hopped onto your bike, waving everyone a goodbye as you rode home.

the next day at practice, you noticed a bit of…staring. from both iwaizumi and kyotani. you did your best to ignore it and not make eye contact, but it was a bit strange. you had a feeling they'd talk to you later.

kyotani smashed the ball to the other side of the court, the ball bouncing up and hitting the ceiling. your eyes were wide in amazement, practically sparkling. oikawa placed a hand on your shoulder as he passed by. "dont be too amazed, cutie." you could only blush in response.

kyotani didn't scare you as much as he scared others. he looked angry at the world, but you knew he had his calmer moments, although rare. he just looked like an angry dog- all bark, no bite.

days passed without anything out of the ordinary. you had begun to be good friends with a few members of the team, even offering to help them in the subjects they struggled with so they could stay on the team, including kyotani.

although kyotani was quite dismissive of your offers, you couldn't bring yourself to do the same to him. you overhead oikawa calling him "mad-dog" at one of the practices, and you could only giggle softly. he shot you a glare that made you stop immediately, but a small smile stayed on your face.

during the practices, the members often came up to you for advise.

"how was my hitting form?" kindaichi asked straight-up. "i tried to adjust to the higher set, but it didn't feel right."

you pondered, remembering his slightly askew form. "well, i think your arm didn't draw all the way back before you hit, so your overall spike was weaker than it could've been," you said, swaying on your feet as you spoke. he nodded along, listening intently. he thanked you and jogged off.

you smiled, so happy that you could help you the team. then, you heard the yelling.

kyotani and oikawa had gotten into an argument- something about a set too high or low- but you were having none of it. you immediately stomped over, looking at the both of them as they kyotani shoved oikawa.

"coach, what are my rules to stop fights?" you spoke loudly, your voice breaking through the argument, echoing throughout the room so everyone could hear. you kept your eyes on the two of them as you stood there, arms crossed. the two froze momentarily, intimidated by your rare demeanor.

"you have no limits, l/n."

you hummed. they looked towards you, oikawa looking away awkwardly and kyotani huffed, still scowling as always.

"boys, what the fuck is the problem?" you asked sternly, glaring.

"this idiot set the ball too high!"

"everybody makes mistakes- your form was even off!" they bickered, turning back to each other.

"and what makes you two think you can cause a scene in the middle of practice, huh? kyotani, i understand your frustration, believe me! but being picky isn't going to get you anywhere. you have to communicate with him- he's not going to listen if all you do is shout at him," you suggested to kyotani calmly. he scoffed, rolling his eyes.

you turned to toru. "and oikawa, as the team captain, you shouldnt be involving yourself in this kind of fight. you should know better." he rolled his eyes begrudgingly. "now, you guys gonna hug and make up or do i need to bench you both for the rest of practice? we still have 30 minutes left.

"do we… actually have to hug?" oikawa groaned.

"yes. matter of fact, im gonna make an 'our get along shirt' just so this never happens again."

you turned to the blond and stifled a laugh, looking at his face of utter repulsion towards the idea.

"you fucking serious?" kyotani asked, almost shouting. you nodded. they looked at each other, then at you, then back to each other.

"5...4.." you counted down. instantly, they shared a hug that lasted about a millisecond. you smiled softly, uncrossing your arms as the rest of the gym laughed at continued to practice. "all right, good job. now go practice," you grinned widely, hand on your hips as you mentally patted yourself on the back.

"fuckin' maniac.." kyotani grumbled, walking off angrily. you only smiled.

after practice, iwaizumi gave you a high-five.

"good job breaking them up. even i can't do that," he said grinning.

"y'know, it's really good to get under their skin by giving them two horrible options," you giggled. he nodded, smirking before his manner faded into something more serious.

"hey, uhm... i really have to ask you a favor. its okay if you decline, but.."

"..im guessing its about kyotani, right?" you asked, pausing. he nodded, looking away and scratching his neck.

"well, he needs a tutor. badly. he acts up in class and gets bad grades because he won't pay attention or participate with others. not just that, but... im sure you can see that it affects the team, too. he cant even go to matches anymore," he explained, almost desperately.

“i talked to him about you tutoring him already, and… let’s just say he wasn’t very fond of the idea. i think if it were you offering, maybe.. he’d be a bit more inclined.”

you nodded along, listening attentively. “more inclined? how?”

iwaizumi stammered, scratching the back of his neck. “well, uh- he’d kill me if i told you. literally.”

“im good at keeping secrets.”

“he thinks you’re… cool.”

your eyes widened in surprise, very flattered. you giggled softly, not pushing for more information.

"well, i'm confident that i can tutor him and... try to help him with his attitude, but... i'm not sure he will accept my help," you remarked uncertainly. he nodded.

"i think... you need to give him an ultimatum, like just now. he really loves volleyball, so... if you threaten to take that away for a while, im sure he'll start to listen."

you nodded, knowing that what he said was true, but you felt like a bully if you were to do that to him.

"i... honestly, i dont know if i have the heart to do that," you chuckled. he huffed a short laugh, agreeing.

"sometimes, being harsh with him is what he needs."

you waved him and the rest of the team a goodbye as you went home.

the next day during break, you walked over to the teacher's office, looking for kyotani's homeroom teacher. you recognized him and walked up nervously.

"ahem, sensei?" you asked, watching as he paused and looked up at you.

"i have a question about kyotani's grades. im his volleyball manager, and i have to make sure he keeps up with his academics."

the teacher smiled and nodded. "ah, i see," he spoke lowly, typing on the computer as he pulled up kyotani's. Fs, Ds, and Cs all around. "would you like me to print that for you?"

"ah, yes please!" you exclaimed. he nodded as he pressed a few buttons.

"Seijoh volleyball manager, huh? how're the boys?" he inquired, smirking.

"well, they're certainly a handful, but.. they have passion. i love seeing it." he hummed as he handed you the piece of paper. you thanked him and bowed, walking away as you read the piece of paper.

you analyzed his grades, and his worst subject was english. not your best subject either, but you made a mental note to study english even further. although you were only a first year, you had some advanced classes, so you shared a few with kyotani.

you found him in his homeroom class, scrolling on his phone. warily, you walked up to him. his eyes snapped up as you nervously stood there.

"you gonna say something or stand there like an idiot?" he growled.

"uhm- i need to talk to you about your grades. can i sit?" you stammered, watching him roll his eyes and slam his phone down.

"do whatever the fuck you want."

you pulled the chair out next to him, placing the paper down on the table as you sat.

"look, kyotani, i dont want to do this, but... you need to seriously focus on your academics. i know you dont want to hear it, but... judging by your grades, you may get cut from volleyball soon. not to mention your behavior on the team..." you informed him cautiously.

"what the fuck makes you think you can sit next to me and lecture me about my grades, let alone my behavior? who the fuck do you think you are?" he snapped, causing the other students to scurry out of the room.

you sighed, looking away. "if you keep this up, i'm not going to let you practice. you can't participate in volleyball if you cant participate in class. okay?"

he looked at you like you were an alien, his eyebrows furrowed. "you can't do that!" he shouted.

suddenly, iwaizumi's voice cut through the sound. "she actually can, kyotani," he said calmly, walking over with his hands in his pockets. kyotani shut his mouth, glaring at the both of you. "she has the authority to remove you from practice. either you comply, or you aren't playing the rest of the season."

kyotani scowled, crossing his arms. "fuckin' fine, alright?" he grumbled angrily. you nodded nervously, looking up to iwaizumi for approval. he urged you on as you looked back at kyotani.

"meet me after practice. i'll start tutoring you today," you said. he didn't even look at you as he stood up abruptly, walking off. you sighed a breath of relief, glad that you got it over with.

"you did good. stood your ground," iwaizumi reassured, patting you on the head as you smiled.

"i hope i can get through to him," you said optimistically.

after practice, kyotani met you outside of the gym. he was all sweaty and smelled like musk, scowling as always.

"ready?" you smiled, trying to lighten the mood. he rolled his eyes. "hop on," you said, climbing onto my bike.

"...are you fuckin' serious? im not doing this shit," he stated. you nodded.

"unless you wanna get kicked from the team, i'd hop on" you grinned evily, popping your pink helmet on his blond head.

"i'm not wearing this."

"oh yeah?"

"...fuckin' fine, you damn devil.." he grumbled as you giggled. you tried to clip on his helmet, but he swatted your hands away, much to your dismay.

he climbed on behind you, keeping his arms clutched onto your backpack. with a bit of struggle, having to almost stand to pedal, you both left, waving everyone a goodbye.

after an awkward ride to your house, you hopped off your bike and parked it outside the door, having kyotani place the helmet on the handle. you used your key to get inside, opening the door for him. you both slipped off your shoes.

"ma, i'm home!" you shouted, walking towards the steps.

"ah, and who is this?" your mom came around the corner, scaring you.

"oh- this is kyotani, from the volleyball team! im tutoring him." he gave a polite bow, not bothering to smile or anything.

"thank you for having me," he said, bowing. your mother smiled.

"all right... keep your door open," she said, walking back to the living room. you hummed as you walked upstairs towards your room.

you both silently walked upstairs until you reached your room. you settled in at your desk, pulling out another chair for him.

“so, i think the most help you need right now is english. pull out your missing assignments and i can help,” you said, setting your bag on the table and pulling out your own assignments and placing them on the table. he didn’t say anything at first, opting to just take out his things as he sat next to you.

“i don’t have any,” he muttered, not looking at you.

“you- kyotani, you’re failing english with no missing assignments?” you asked genuinely, confused.

“yes, now shut up, seriously,” he muttered, cheeks a bit pink from embarrassment.

“sorry, didn’t mean to be condescending or anything…” you mumbled. “well, for now, just take out your graded assignments. from there, we can review your weak points and go over them together,” you suggested, trying to cheer up the mood.

he took out his english folder, taking marked papers out and setting them down on your side. you took the first one- a 43/100- and reviewed it carefully, then explained the questions he got wrong.

despite his initial resistance to help, he listened mindfully as you explained, occasionally asking grumbled questions before you happily answered.

“i think you should spend more time paying attention to vocabulary. you’re actually really good at grammar, which is amazing! but all your points get taken because of the blank bits you couldn’t fill,” you explained, finger swiping over the questions he missed. he nodded, eyes peering down at the paper.

after you two were done reviewing about half of the stack, he went home. he didn’t say thank you or praise you for your intelligence, just a curt little nod in your direction and a wave goodbye to your mother.

the next few weeks continued just the same- school, practice, tutoring. he never really let his guard down, never laughed at any of your silly jokes or shared anything about himself. but, he wasn’t angry or mean when he was with you- at least, not as mean as he was with the others. you took that fact with gratitude, never taking it for granted. you held onto the calm, focused look he had when he studied, nothing like the guy you saw on the court.

you did your best to help him calm himself. when his voice would rise, you’d tell him to take a breath before speaking. when he would get frustrated and it looked as if he was going to set his paper on fire, you’d grab his attention for a quick break. you figured it would be awkward to bring up his rather obvious anger issues, so you decided it would be better for the both of you to avoid that uncomfortable discussion.

though, your tactics never truly stuck. he’d brush you off, telling you he was “fine,” rebuild walls you thought you were crumbling. it was understandable, but it broke your heart a bit each time.

strangely to him, you both grew closer. he grew to like tolerate your presence, finding himself wanting to be with you more than not.

the feeling was foreign to him. hate was the norm- the default setting he held for most people. those people held him at face value, saw him as nothing more than an absurdly violent boy with tendencies that no person should ever endure.

but you, with your sickly sweet smile and presence. you, with your welcoming arms and compassionate nature. you, who tried so annoyingly hard to understand him that he somehow forgot what it felt like to hate.

after practice on a gloomy day, you both got to your house, soaked in rain. kyotani was obviously in a shitty mood, but honestly, so were you. you didn't want to have to have to constantly skate on thin ice around him all the damn time.

you were helping him review for an english exam. you were trying so hard to get the grammar through his head when he snapped.

"look, can you fucking quit it already? all your damn nagging is pissing me off," he yelled, obviously frustrated in himself.

"kyotani, im just trying to help!"

"of fuckin' course you are, but i cant figure out why. probably you and your goddamn savior complex-"

"excuse me? i- the whole team shouldnt have to walk on eggshells whenever we're around you! im the one who's fucking helping you raise your grades, you'd be off the team if it werent for me! "

"maybe it would've been better if i hadn’t met your sorry ass."

you both paused- your breath caught in your throat. your heart dropped to your stomach, the muscle in your chest clenching in pain as it washed through you. quickly, you humbled yourself.

'right- our friendship, this whole thing between us both doesn't mean anything, anyway. transactional."

he packed his things quickly with nothing more than an angry huff, quickly going downstairs without a goodbye to your mother.

you were frozen in place, rethinking every moment before this. had you really been trying too hard to help him?

you sat back down on your desk, staring into space. you just wanted to help him achieve what he wanted . you wanted to help him stay in volleyball, something he truly loved- because you were his manager. nothing more, nothing less.

a text dinged on your phone after an hour of you scrolling in the dark of your room, spiraling. it was kyotani.

kyotani!! - hey

kyotani!! - yknow i didnt mean that, right?

you read his message, eyes glossy as the hurt washed over you in another wave. his text bubble kept popping up and down, like he was unsure.

kyotani!! - dont make me get all sappy.

he was silent for another minute before he started typing again.

kyotani!! - you've helped me a lot. i wouldn't be doing what i love if it weren’t for you.

kyotani!! - i'm sorry. i was being an idiot.

you smiled, brushing away a stray tear.

you - thank you, kyo

you - i'm sorry, i was mean too

kyotani!! - dont apologize

kyotani!! - you were right

kyotani!! - i need to work on myself.

quickly, another week of tutoring went by. he finally passed one of his english tests with a beautiful B+, which you were so proud of him for! as a reward, after practice, you decided to skip tutoring and take him out for a treat.

“bye, everyone! get home safe!” you exclaimed to the team, waving everyone off with a big smile. they reciprocated the goodbye, smiling as kyotani stood there like your guard dog.

you took your pretty pink helmet and placed it on his head. you clicked the buckle as he looked down at you, expressionless.

‘he never let me do that before…’ you thought to yourself, smiling softly, trying to hide your excited mood. progress!

“where do you wanna go, kyo?” you asked, hopping onto your bike as he followed suit, hands closer to your waist than your bag. he grumbled at the nickname- not that he didn’t like it, but it was new to him.

“let’s go to the cafe you were talking about last week.”

you gasped excitedly. “the doggy cafe?”

he hummed lowly, pushing his feet to help you go up the small hill. the ride was silent; not awkward or uncomfortable, but a kind of silence that was tranquil, with the breeze blowing past your ears and the sun shining happily, warm on your skin.

you both arrived at the cafe, kyotani hopping off the bike first. you parked it, but you tripped as you tried to step off. his hand found the handle of your backpack, keeping you from falling to the floor. your cheeks heated up with embarrassment, clearing your throat as you giggled.

“watch yourself, clumsy,” he muttered, stuffing his hands in his pocket.

”thanks,” you replied softly, clipping off his helmet before hanging it on the handle of your bike.

he walked towards the door of the cafe, pulling the door handle and holding it for you. you offered another thanks, walking past with a grin as you saw the cutest puppies. they met you both with barks, some trying to jump up your legs. you giggled as you crouched down, petting the cute babies. you both were led to a small table with a menu.

“my treat, of course,” you said, handing him the menu. “im really proud of you for doing so good on your test, kyo!”

he didn’t meet your eyes as he scanned the menu, but his soft smile said a hundred words. suddenly, a puppy came up to the both of you. small and blonde, it clawed at your chair until you picked it up.

“awhh, look at this sweet baby,” you cooed as it settled into your lap.

kyotani leaned over, wanting to pet it. suddenly, it perked up and barked, growling as it snapped at his hand. you giggled, petting the doggy as it calmed at your touch.

“kyo, it’s like you,” you giggled, looking up for a moment. he rolled his eyes at the comment, getting up to order for you both at the counter.

you babied the blond chihuahua, scratching his ears as you kissed him on the head.

“what a good boy, hmm?” you gushed.

he returned to the table with his and your drink, setting down the tray. you stood up from the table, puppy still in your hands as you ushered him to get up.

“let’s go play!” you exclaimed, smiling brightly.

you scurried off into the middle of the play area, mingling with the puppies. he watched for a moment, gazing at the happiest state he’s seen you in. after, he got up, walking over to sit next to you on the floor.

he played with a dog as it crawled into his lap. he scratched behind its ears, watching as its eyes fluttered shut for a moment. then, he turned to you, eyes furrowed in… confusion? reluctance, maybe?

you looked up, looking into his eyes in curiosity. "kyo?"

he shook his head, scoffing. "nevermind."

"kyotani, you can talk to me. i won’t brush you off… not like how other people do."

"stop trying to understand me."

"but you want someone to, don't you? otherwise, you wouldn't be contemplating it right now." you had read him like a book.

“y’know…” he muttered, eyes not meeting yours as he spoke. “i don’t like always being so angry and mean,” he said lowly. you nodded, listening intently. “i just… don’t know how to be anything but that. kind. like you,” he mumbled his last words so softly that you could barely hear him over the barking. you smiled, so soft and bright and so blinding.

“do you… want help, kyo?” you asked. he looked at you before averting his gaze, nodding.

“okay. i can help,” you replied, leaning forward to catch his gaze once more. his permanently sharp eyes had softened, golden irises glowing as he looked at you.

the next day at practice, kyotani got angry like always. this time, instead of scolding him, you brought him to the side.

“kyotani, talk to me,” you said firmly, arms crossed as he was practically pulling out the hair he had left on his scalp.

“this motherfucker-!” he yelled before you put a finger up to his mouth.

“hey,” you said, looking straight into his eyes.

“he- this guy tooru fuckin’ oikawa won’t give me the damn sets i’ve been asking for. he’s doing it on purpose, y/n!” he exclaimed angrily, eyes wide and eyebrows furrowed in frustration.

you nodded along, listening as he ranted to you. eventually, he calmed down after he unloaded his annoyance.

you looked up at him before speaking. “i understand, kyo. oikawa is being unfair towards you. however, you can’t control what he does. you know what you can do?” you asked genuinely. he perked up curiously.

“you can control how you react. most importantly, control what you’re able to, and let go of the rest. what he does is not your decision- but ask yourself, why is he being unfair?”

he paused for a moment, before realization washed over him.

“you have been unfair to him, too. you criticize him for his bad sets, but never tell him when he gives you a good one. that’s what you can also control- how you treat others so that they can treat you in kind,” you explained.

he looked down at himself, a bit embarrassed as he scratched at the back of his neck.

“so, what’re you gonna do? apologize, or make me put you both in the ‘our get along shirt’?” you snickered, smiling, lifting the mood a bit. he scoffed in disbelief. “im not kidding,” your face dropped.

“okay, fuck, damn madwoman…” he muttered before walking off. he paused for a moment, looking back.

you both shared a brief moment of understanding- gratitude written over his otherwise scrunched up face. but when you looked in his eyes, his gaze was gentle, like the breeze you felt when you both were on your bike going home.

he turned and walked off to oikawa. once again, you patted yourself on the back.

days turned into weeks as you and kyotani grew closer. his rugged nature melted when you were near, only calm expressions and soft laughter were present. tutoring wasn’t exactly tutoring anymore, just study sessions completing homework together- you taught him a bit too well. and when you weren’t completing homework, you were talking, playing games, watching movies. he softened himself, for you.

in waves, his walls crumbled, and behind them shined a bright sun you were so grateful to see. under his expressions full of hate, was a boy that was your best friend. the team saw it, too- the way his raging fire settled into the soft burn and crackle of a campfire. and it was so, so beautiful.

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it was finally winter, the trees bare of leaves and the cold, sharp and biting against your cheeks and nose.

after practice, kyotani clicked on the pink helmet onto your head instead of letting you put it on his.

“huh?”

“i drive today,” he states smugly, grinning as you both hopped on. comfortably, you wrapped your arms around his waist, hugging his torso.

“kyo, where are we going?” you asked as he made a few different turns than the normal route to your house. he didn’t respond, but you knew you were safe in his hands.

you ended up at a small river that ran through the area, wind blowing softly through the autumn leaves. you hopped off the bike, letting him unclop your helmet as you stared bewilderedly at the beautiful sunset.

you turned around, seeing him standing with a small bouquet of flowers and your favorite candy/chocolate. your face heated up, eyes widening in surprise.

“kyotani-“

“y/n,” he spoke, voice low and soft. he stepped forward, looking into your eyes.

“i-“ he stumbled over his words, taking a deep breath before sighing.

“i- uhm, had a whole damn speech, but… yknow im not good with words.”

you giggled, smiling from ear to ear. “it’s okay, take your time.”

“you’ve been so patient for me throughout these months. i know how much that fuckin sucked,” he grumbled out, making the both of you laugh softly.

“but… im grateful you did. im grateful you stuck around, even when i pulled away. my life feels a lot clearer, now that you’re in it. it’s not as clouded anymore, and instead…

i can see my future. and it’s bright. and it’s full of you,” he smiled, unabashedly and wild, something he had never done before.

tears welled in your eyes as he looked down at you, his look full of admiration.

“you’ve kept me in line since the first day i met you. nobody could do that before. nobody but you.

this isn’t a marriage proposal, but… in every way i can imagine, i can only picture my years ahead with you in it.

so… let me be your boyfriend? please.”

your eyes were already dripping with tears, much to his surprise.

“shit- fuck, did i do something wrong? goddamnit, i yap my mouth off for once and make you fuckin’ cry, i said too much, didn’t i?” he rambled on, wiping your tears with the sleeve of his sweater.

you broke out in a beautiful smile, giggling as the fluffy fabric tickled your face. he breathed a sigh of relief.

“kentaro,” you whispered, so gently and spoken with tenderness. he looked into your eyes, fully at attention.

“there’s nothing i would want more than to be with you,” you giggled, pulling him into a bear hug, arms wrapping around his neck. he smiled into the crook of your neck,

“good,” he mumbled into your ear, “i didn’t have a plan b.”

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