#kyoyaha

Feel like there are a bunch of pairings that don’t have enough love? There are a lot of characters in Haikyuu!!, after all, and it can be harrowing just to see works with more popular pairings getting all the love. That’s why the first of our themes is rarepairs.

What counts as a rarepair are any pairings that have 200 or less works on AO3 - any other pairing is game. Rec lists do not have to be one pairing - as long as the work is for a pairing that qualifies, it can go on the list. In fact, for this particular prompt, a mix of different pairings is encouraged! And if this is too broad, you can always do a theme of a certain character being in all the rarepairs you choose.

Pairings that do not qualify are:

Kageyama/Hinata

Iwaizumi/Oikawa

Akaashi/Bokuto

Daichi/Suga

Yaku/Lev

Tsukishima/Yamaguchi

Kuroo/Tsukishima

Asahi/Nishinoya

Kuroo/Kenma

So as long as your list has works for pairings that aren’t on this list, you’re good!

There are so few girls in Haikyuu!!, but that means they deserve exponentially more love then! This is why another one of our first themes is girls. So as long as your list spreads any and all girl love you have, we’ll love it!

We will allow:

Femslash (female identifying/female identifying)

Het written from the POV of a female character

Gen girl friendship

Female character study

Your lists, like the rarepair ones, are allowed to have any combination of any of these four genres. Go on and remind everyone that we should love girls \o/

toeing the line

Kentarou is late to school on the first day of third year even though he tried to be on time. What happened was, he woke up early, but then he was bleaching his hair and messed up. Now his hair is almost white, and he looks like a geezer. Anyway, the important thing is that he’s made it to school. He’s walking down the hall to his new classroom, almost in a good mood, when Yahaba comes out of the room next to his and raises an eyebrow at him.

“You better not be late again,” Yahaba says.

Kentarou opens his mouth to tell Yahaba to fuck off, and then he remembers that Yahaba is captain now. “Whatever,” he says instead.

He walks into his classroom, mutters an apology to the teacher, and then heads to his desk, seething. He hates this. The school year has just started, and it already sucks balls. Fucking Yahaba seemed like an okay guy when they first met, but he was an asshole last year, shoving Kentarou up against the wall during their match against Karasuno and lecturing him.

And he’s always watching Kentarou nowadays, like he is waiting for Kentarou to fuck up. He’s looking for an excuse to kick him off the team, Kentarou just knows it. Watari might try to persuade him otherwise, but he’s not like Iwaizumi. Iwaizumi-san was very powerful, even more than Oikawa.

Kentarou isn’t going to give Yahaba that excuse though. He is tired of practicing in other people’s gyms with other people’s teams. Playing for Aoba Johsai last year wasn’t so bad. He’s going to keep his nose clean, play like he’s supposed to, be on time, all that stuff. He wants to win, and you can’t win in volleyball without a team. You can’t be a wing-spiker without someone who’ll toss to you.

***

He sees Yahaba again at lunchtime near the vending machines.

“Remember, sign-ups are today,” Yahaba says.

“So what,” Kentarou says. He inserts the coins he has dug out of his pockets into the machine and then punches the button for the apple juice.

“You know what.”

Yahaba is getting into Kentarou’s personal space now, so close that Kentarou can smell the mints that Yahaba must have just swallowed.

Kentarou glares at him. Yahaba looks straight at Kentarou, face very calm. “You’re going to be on your best behavior for the freshmen,” Yahaba says.

Yahaba’s one of those cool-guy types. Always looks people in the eye, isn’t afraid of any guy or girl. Shallow too, Kentarou used to think. But Yahaba cares about things like teamwork and respecting elders and getting good grades.

“Yeah,” Kentarou says, “best behavior, Yahaba-sama.” He salutes Yahaba with the bottle of juice that has come out of the machine.

Yahaba snatches the bottle out of Kentarou’s hand before Kentarou can even blink.

Kentarou stares, too surprised to be angry, as Yahaba drinks half the juice himself. He lets Yahaba push the bottle back into his hand.

Yahaba wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, says, “And watch how you talk to me and Watari during practice.”

As Yahaba turns to walk back to the classrooms, Kentarou considers throwing the juice at Yahaba’s head. But that means bye-bye volleyball. And Kentarou hasn’t had this juice for almost three weeks.

He puts the bottle to his mouth and swallows angrily. He remembers, only after the juice has already gone down his throat, that Yahaba’s mouth was just on this bottle.

“Bastard,” he mutters, glaring at Yahaba’s back.

He finishes the rest of the juice. Cooties aren’t a real thing anyway.

***

Kentarou isn’t sure why Yahaba is standing so close to him during afternoon practice on the second day of school, eyes fixed on him. He’s not going to snap and bite anyone. He was rude only three times yesterday, and he was on time this morning.

“What?” he shouts after practice, when he’s walking home and finds that Yahaba is one step behind him.

Yahaba says, “Why is your hair like that? The color is bizarre.”

“My hair is my own damn business. What’s it to you.”

Kentarou glares at Yahaba’s dull brown hair. It matches Yahaba’s eyes almost exactly. Kentarou has a strange urge to push those thick bangs back and look at Yahaba’s forehead. He jams his hands into his pockets.

Yahaba says, “At least dye it all the way instead of leaving these weird stripes,” and presses a finger to Kentarou’s head, just above the right ear.

Kentarou jumps and almost ends up in the street. Yahaba, rolling his eyes, grabs the strap of Kentarou’s backpack and pulls him back onto the sidewalk, which, Kentarou notices, is covered with crushed cherry blossom petals.

“Don’t touch me,” Kentarou says. His heart is beating fast.

Yahaba holds both hands up. “Relax,” he says. “Hasn’t anyone ever touched your hair before?”

“No. That’s gross.”

Kentarou is relieved when they part ways in front of the McDonald’s the next block over. Yahaba is getting weirder by the year. Maybe it’s a setter thing. Oikawa was really weird too. He was always watching the team, and by the time he graduated, he knew everyone’s strengths and weaknesses, along with their entire family history and the names of their pets and how many times they jacked off in a day, probably.

***

“You really don’t need to wear those all the time,” Yahaba says the next day.

They are walking home together again, but this time with a distance of two feet between them. Yahaba keeps asking questions though.

Now he’s asking, “Are you planning to challenge someone in the Athletic Festival this year?”

Kentarou adjusts his wrist weights. He’s still trying to get used to them, but they don’t feel as heavy as they did when he strapped them on this morning.

“You gotta be prepared for any and all punks,” he says. “And Iwaizumi-san said we can have an arm-wrestling rematch when he visits in the summer.”

“Alright,” Yahaba says, “but don’t hurt yourself. We have a practice match against Karasuno coming up.”

Kentarou flexes his fingers. “I’m going to kick their asses this time,” he says.

“And keep a cool head,” Yahaba says.

“Whatever.”

They reach the McDonald’s. Kentarou glances at the windows. He can see the white, blue, and beige of the Aoba Johsai uniform, the red ties. Girls and guys, milling around the place, talking and laughing, burgers and fries and milkshakes in hand. They’re always talking about those burgers at lunchtime.

“How come you don’t hang out with them?” Kentarou asks.

Yahaba looks at the fast-food joint and then back at Kentarou. “Why do you care?” he asks.

“Can’t a guy ask a question without getting asked another question, damn.”

“You want to go inside?”

“No, fuck.”

This is the last time he’s going to ask Yahaba anything, Kentarou tells himself.

***

Kentarou gets aggravated halfway through the first game against Karasuno, fucks up a few spikes. The ball keeps hitting the net.

Yahaba is pissed off, and Watari looks more and more worried. Mizoguchi has yelled himself hoarse and is just mouthing wordlessly at them now.

“Get your shit together,” Yahaba says before the second game.

Kentarou calms himself down, but Yahaba is more cautious in this game, keeps tossing to the other guys instead. Kindaichi and Kunimi are playing okay, but the scoreboard is still becoming a joke. On the other side of the net, the shrimp and the angry setter and that Tanaka who had caused Kentarou grief last time all look disappointed.

Kentarou isn’t going to beg Yahaba to toss to him. Let Yahaba play it safe and lose the match for them. Kentarou was wrong about him. Yahaba is not like Oikawa.

Yahaba tosses to him at the very end, and Kentarou manages to reach the ball with his left hand, and he sends it over, but what’s the point, Karasuno is about to win.

Afterwards, in the locker room, everyone is silent. The freshmen are skirting around Kentarou like he’s the plague. Watari looks sad. Yahaba’s face is a blank mask.

Kentarou stomps out of the room, and walks home alone, and thinks about not going back. They won’t want him back anyway. And Yahaba now has an excuse to kick him off the team.

***

Kentarou skips morning practice the next day, and he is halfway home in the afternoon, thinking about how he’s going to tell his dad that he’s quitting the club, when he sees a guy who looks like Kiyoshi crossing the road. He thinks about what Kiyoshi had told him last year about what it means to be on a team.

Kentarou goes back to school. He can’t repeat the same mistakes he’s made before. He’s too old for that shit.

He changes into his jersey and then walks into the gym. The team has already finished warming up. Some of them glance his way but don’t come closer to confront him.

Only Watari walks over to him, but with a friendly smile, and asking, “Have you warmed up?”

“No,” Kentarou says. Then, “Sorry.”

Watari claps him on the back. “You’re pairing up with Yahaba to practice your spikes today, okay? He told me earlier to tell you when you arrive.”

Kentarou, surprised, glances at Yahaba’s direction. Yahaba is at the far end of the gym, practicing his serves. Kentarou had seen Yahaba once in the hall at lunchtime, but Yahaba hadn’t looked at him.

“Why would he do that?” Kentarou says.

Watari opens his mouth and then closes it. After a moment, he says, “Um, you can ask him. But the thing is, we all want you here, Kyoutani. We can’t win without our ace.”

“Okay,” Kentarou says.

After he does his warm-ups, he goes over to Yahaba. He feels awkward, and he hates it. Yahaba wasn’t supposed to be this way.

“You’re really taking me lightly, Yahaba,” he says. “Thinking that I’d come back after that shitty match. I’m only here because I thought I’d give you another chance, okay. And why do you want to pair up with me so bad, huh?”

Yahaba’s hands twitch a little, like he’s itching to put them around Kentarou’s neck. His voice is calm, though, as he says, “Is that any way to talk to your captain after you’ve skipped one practice session and arrived late to another? Anyway, I made that request because we need to work on our synchronization, obviously.”

“Your tosses are shit.”

“Yeah? Well it’s hard to toss properly when you’re being an asshole and ruining the game for everyone.”

“I’m working on that, okay. Doesn’t happen overnight.” Kentarou stomps over to the net and positions himself, hands held up. “But, whatever, that’s yesterday. Go ahead and toss.”

Yahaba’s tosses are better today. Kentarou is able to spike the ball each time without much effort.

When they are walking home together after practice, Yahaba looks relaxed, like he’s been able to overcome something. He almost smiles at Kentarou once. It’s weird. Kentarou says, “Don’t do that. You’re freaking me out.”

“Really? Mad Dog-chan is afraid of something?”

“You’re not allowed to call me that, and I didn’t say I was afraid.”

Yahaba glances up at the sky. Kentarou looks at the line of his neck and then looks away.

“You know,” Yahaba says, “I’m not sure I’ll be playing volleyball after high school. But I want to do my best this year. It’s been hard, trying to fill the gap Oikawa-san has left, but I’m not going to give up.”

Kentarou thinks about Iwaizumi, the gap left there. He’ll have to get better too. Whatever it takes. Aoba Johsai has to win at Inter-High this year.

***

They’re in front of McDonald’s on Friday evening, about to part ways, when Yahaba says, “Come on,” and pulls him into the restaurant.

The burgers are good, but everyone keeps staring, and the kids in their year who know Yahaba keep making comments about Yahaba’s “new friend.”

Kentarou tries to ignore them. He shoves French fries into his mouth and slurps loudly on a McCafé chocolate shake. Yahaba’s paid for all of it, so he might as well enjoy it. Kentarou isn’t going to cause a fuss.

But then he hears one of Yahaba’s classmates in the next booth say, “Yahaba is like an encyclopedia on Kyoutani. He’s been talking about him since first year. And now they’re on a date. How romantic.”

Kentarou gets up to go drag that guy out of the restaurant for a beat down, but as he is moving out of his booth, he sees that Yahaba has turned red. When Kentarou glares at him, Yahaba looks away. Kentarou switches tracks and drags Yahaba out of the restaurant instead.

Yahaba is strangely quiet as Kentarou pulls him into the alley between McDonald’s and a flower shop and shoves him up against a wall.

“Why’re you being a confusing shit,” Kentarou says, squeezing Yahaba’s arms.

Yahaba’s muscles aren’t as bulky as his own, Kentarou notes, but they’re nothing to laugh at. He has first-hand knowledge of Yahaba’s wiry strength. It’s surprising that Yahaba hasn’t punched him in the face yet.

After about a minute, Yahaba finally grips Kentarou’s wrist and says, “Let go.”

Kentarou releases his hold on Yahaba’s arms. He wants to fight, but he also wants answers. He asks, “Why didn’t you tell that bastard that we’re not on a date? You have no problem pushing me around, but you can’t talk to that guy?”

Yahaba glares at him. “I choose my battles,” he says. He adjusts his blazer. “I’m not going to pick fights with classmates and then get kicked off the team.”

Kentarou backs off, saying, “You better not get all stupid the next time someone says that kind of bullshit.”

“Fine,” Yahaba says.

Kentarou nods. He wants to be angry, but mostly he just feels like a dumbass. He had thought Yahaba was following him around before because Yahaba hated him, but now it seems that Yahaba has a crush. Kentarou isn’t sure what to do about that. People have wanted to crush him before, but no one’s ever had a crush on him.

And he’s been feeling kind of odd around Yahaba since the year started too.

He is heading out of the alley when Yahaba puts a hand on his shoulder. Then Yahaba has turned him back around and his mouth is really close to Kentarou’s and Kentarou closes the gap before either of them can think twice.

When Kentarou’s brain kicks back into working order though, he stops kissing Yahaba and balls his hand up into a fist. His fist is inches away from connecting with Yahaba’s nose when he sees that Yahaba’s eyes are closed. He drops his hand.

He glares at Yahaba’s lips. They’re parted slightly right now, and Kentarou can see the whites of Yahaba’s teeth. Those lips felt weird against his mouth, but not nasty.

“You’re a dick,” Kentarou says. He grabs Yahaba by the collar and jerks him close. “Give a guy some warning, alright? With actual words.”

Yahaba frowns and opens his mouth, probably to call Kentarou a dumbass or something, but Kentarou shoves his tongue into Yahaba’s mouth, and the night starts to get better.

***

On Monday morning, Yahaba is waiting for him at a crosswalk near the school.

Kentarou says, “Are we going to be holding hands and skipping to school together?”

“Is that something you fantasize about, Kyoutani?” Yahaba replies, giving him a cool smile.

“You couldn’t keep up with me anyway.”

“We’ll see about that.”

Kentarou is about to challenge him to a race when Yahaba pulls a bottle of hair dye out of his bag. The color is the exact shade of blond Kentarou was using last year.

“Nice,” Kentarou says, reaching for the bottle.

Yahaba puts it back in his bag and starts walking. “Not now,” he says.

“Why not.”

“I’m going to do it for you. We can do it at my house.”

“Yeah? You’re gonna give me a dye job, and what do I do? Give you a blow job?”

“Thank you for offering.” Yahaba grins.

“Who’s offering?” Kentarou says.

But he wouldn’t mind it, he thinks. The blow job. And having Yahaba color his hair. Hanging out with Yahaba.