yes officer, that's her. last seen lurking around in her archives, developing quite an obsessive streak with her hyperfixations. you'll get to investigate more about her through the suspect's information data file. in the meantime, feel free to browse through her internet blog to make your own verdict on the case. make sure you get a cup of your favourite drink and settle down, because this is going to take quite some time...
credits to @cafekitsune for all the dividers used in this blog
CW .ᐟ › written content under cut (wc: 7.9k), smaller case intended, check series masterlist for extra information, drinking, all of this is written in akaashi's perspective because he's objectively the more "sober" one
for once, akaashi wished he had drunk more than he did on the usual.
there was a certain privilege the drunken owned that the sober didn't have. for instance, they could lounge on couches blabbering their nonsense like incompetent kings sitting on ill gotten thrones. they could laugh like there was no tomorrow. the sweat caked on their skins were not equate to labour done by busying themselves with cleaning up chaos, but one of a lukewarm, lucid joy that surges through the dilation of their blood vessels.
no blame could fall upon them for any raucous action they might take after falling into drunken debauchery. they were often excused by exasperated sighs or an annoyed slap on the wrist, for the sole reason of not being able to control themselves, puppets slave to the string of the wicked mastery alcohol brought forth.
since responsibility was not one they could comprehend at the moment - it was to lie on the shoulders of none other than the sober. the sober were their servants, regulators of impending disaster. wiping up the dirty messes of the drunk. tending to their disheveled states and tolerating their foolish ramblings. locking away any sources of temptations that could push them farther into the dizzying spell beer had doused them in.
with the unfortunate trademark of being the responsible one in the group following him throughout the years of their friendship, akaashi was awfully familiar with the roles of the sober he had to play.
on the night of their first sleepover in a stayover cabin rented by coach yamiji, everybody had went down except for him. those that were sleepy drunks lay slumped against tables or snoring against each other. while he trashed those empty beer cans littered about the table or somehow scattered in the corners of the room, wiping up spills or food remnants, he had to listen to the chatty drunks talking his ear off. it took him a whole hour to get the whole place cleaned up, tucking his teammates under their covers, before he collapsed on his own futon, dropping dead from being laden with exhaustion.
in that single night, he learnt more about his teammates against his will. konoha begrudgingly admitted to akaashi that he found an astounding intellect hidden in bokuto's idiocy and wished he possessed the same bright optimism. he got sarukui telling him that he used to be called a rabbit in elementary school because of his two front teeth and was extremely reluctant to participate in sack races because that reinforced the idea. and of course, more things about the loud ace that was fortunately a sleepy drunk, one of them being that he was going to become a top notch ace and have his pictures and life documented in a biography dedicated to his name that would sell off to specifically four million like his jersey number, called 'Bokuto's Bizarre Life', BBL for short.
bizarre was fitting for the title. BBL on the other hand, definitely needed some modification to prevent misunderstandings from the general public.
on akaashi's list of top ten worst drunks, bokuto would be somewhere up there. but even with his all too loud laughter that could be heard ten dormitory blocks away, how he could practically contort your spine with one slap to the back, embarrassing whinings that a twenty one year old adult should not be making - would only land him around second or third place.
there was a time where drunk bokuto would claim the crown for first place. when akaashi, back then in hindsight, thought there was nobody who could be worse - was now proven wrong.
the victor seated at the top of this list is leaning all her weight on his side, legs reduced to jelly and incapable of standing on her own. her fingers are wrinkling the front of his checkered shirt, crumpling the squares into squiggly lines. strands of ginger hair are plastered to her flushed sweaty cheeks which are stuck to his white undershirt, warmth bleeding through the fabric.
"oh, 'kaashi," you exhale deeply from your nose, pushing more warmth into his body from where your cheek subtly rubs against his shirt, grip tightening. "you're like a sun...so warm and rays so lovely...and i'm icarus, i can't help but want to drown in them. even if it makes my insides burn more like i'm being incinerated from the inside...pleasantly."
that absolutely does not sound very pleasant. and he knows this, for this is the twentieth time you repeated that every time he attempts to peel your clingy self away from his frame. no matter how much he tries to push you away - gently, because it's not right to hurt the drunk who don't know what they're doing - you hang on more stubbornly, like a koala fighting for the last branch.
so he does what he can do with one hand, since the other is pinned down by your arm wrapped around his waist. he tilts his downwards and pinches his nose in resignation, huffing out all the ire building up in his body in a single loud sigh.
akaashi made countless mistakes tonight. first, it was coming to this damned party. second, it was letting himself fall victim to kuroo and bokuto's games. third, being lenient and allowing you to consume the asahi cans he instructed you to take for the shoot in the kitchen.
you were being so cooperative with the shoot. though you had mumbled a few odd questions as he told you to rest your head in your sprawled arms on the table, it were fewer than what he was expecting since the first shoot in the cafe. after three questions or so, you fell silent and compliant as he adjusted your position to let the amber hues of the sole light catch on your flushed cheeks and lashes.
the pictures came out better than he'd pictured in his mind. good thing you drank the right amount of liquor at the dining table, because it gave your cheeks the perfect shade of pink to complement your skin, which looked like it was glowing under the romantic hue of golden spilling over half your face, arms and hair.
which was probably why he didn't think twice when you asked if you could drink the asahi cans used for the shoot, preoccupied with clicking through the photos on his canon. not even after you pushed a few cans into his hand as well, asking him to drink with you, which he stupidly accepted.
yet, the giddiness from the happiness he felt from taking the shots (definitely not from drinking, god forbid, he's a responsible person who monitors his liquor intake wisely) only faded after he emptied the third can, giving way to a bubbling conscience that came too late.
the haze in his mind cleared and your head was already drooping against his shoulder, knocking over the empty can he just set down, laughing carelessly. movements a beat too slow for the sober.
well, shit. he had made you his liability. somehow he thought you would stop yourself after drinking a can - but then again, he was reminded of the state that you were in when he called you in for a shoot. sober enough to form coherent words, but not sober enough to move away from having more. well, fuck.
by the time he heaved your boneless body with him to the living room to try and get help in mitigating the problem, the devastating reality that the thin shred of control outside had crumbled flashed before his eyes. rescue operations by yaku and kenma were barely holding their own against two of the top ten worst drunks on his list and a miserable victim of food poisoning from excess corn chips - expired a month ago. who knew. nothing from this dormitory's snack stash could be trusted because nobody bothered to check.
seeing such a sight had akaashi shutting his eyes to imagine the idyllic place he wanted to be in order to maintain his faltering sense of calm. his dorm room, where the undone bed crooned invitingly to him, a beautiful reprieve that would make his knees go weak. to be under the cover of his fuzzy snoopy blanket, humoured by the box man and browsing through the profound absurdity within the inked pages.
a sense of peace washed over him then. his furrowed eyebrows relaxed a fraction, tense muscles loosening, before that too was snatched up by the agony of the chaos when he registered yaku's request.
"my apologies, akaashi. could you take yn to our dormitory for me? i've got to rush shohei to the clinic before it closes."
protests erupt almost instantly. a ceremony of brain cells rise up in the amygdala, roaring as they hold up banners and signs against the very notion of sending you home. a collapse of the serene midnight hours they've all longed to look forward to? both his brain and body detests the prospect. they will superglue his feet to wherever he's standing to force yaku into taking you back instead.
he feels your lips vaguely moving against the thin fabric of his white undershirt as your head shifts to murmur something. it's probably nonsense. something like he's as cuddly as a teddy bear that your mother ripped away from poor nine year old you, who had an undying attachment to a manufactured product designed to manipulate children in the marketing industry.
it's barely fifteen minutes into him being enveloped in your drunken state and you're already pouring out past grievances. that bests bokuto's record by being a minute less.
akaashi opens his mouth to make his own selfish demand. there's a lot - he's worn out from so much social interaction, he's got a whole bank of photos lying around in the recesses of his laptop to be edited, he's got little experience handling you and renders him unfit for the task - until yaku slings fukunaga's arm over his shoulder, supporting him to the door.
yaku angles his head slightly towards akaashi over his shoulder with an apologetic purse of his lips. "I'll try to be back as soon as possible to tend to yn after getting shohei checked up at the clinic. i know she could be quite a handful, but please make sure she doesn't get into trouble while i'm not around."
whatever akaashi was about to say wounds up into a tight ball that he swallows back down his throat. he looks down once at you huddled against him, like some sort of baby fawn desperate for coddling from its mother. then he looks back up at yaku, whose gaze softens with fond exasperation lining his smile, seeing how you cling to akaashi like a lifeline.
akaashi is only putting up with you for an hour or so, at most two, but yaku has been taking care of you for far longer than he has like a saint. the least he could do for his senpai, whom he catches the lingering weariness in his smile as yaku adjusts fukunaga's arm on his shoulder, is to relieve this burden off him.
"alright." he clears his throat. the shoved protests have been building up like rocks there, reluctant to want to form these words at all. "take care."
yaku smiles, a touch of gratitude flooding it. "thanks a lot, akaashi. text me if anything happens."
then he turns and he's out the door, grunting as he shifts fukunaga's weight with him, huffing "left right, left right..." under his breath. the two of them hobble away down the hall, voices disappearing when the lift opens and swallows them up, taking them down.
akaashi stares after them like he's mourning their presence. the spot where they used to stand on mere minutes ago feels hollow, carving a spot inside his heart that resonates with one of an abandoned child.
it truly was life's greatest mistake to attend this party.
a rustle sounds behind him, startling him out of the solemn trance. someone clicks their tongue, grunts out an impatient sound, before a faint thud of two bodies hitting the floor follows.
"akaashi," a soft voice barely containing the grumpy notes seeping into it speaks up. "could you-"
alarms go blaring, already predicting the next few words to follow. akaashi's gotten exhausted of having random side quests throttling him in the back of his head, front, left, right, everywhere.
your tug on his sleeve jolts his body into moving. his other hand pinned down by your arm has moved to your back, handed with the job of keeping you upright because your drunk-addled mind has decided to make him your walking stick. he shuffles across the room towards the open door, dragging you with him.
"sorry kenma," is all he offers to the sullen individual whose glare must be piercing into his back for his upstanding behaviour. "you're on your own."
pulling the door shut to only cut out the first half of mumbled expletives from kenma, cursing the two others inside more than himself, akaashi sighs in relief and closes his eyes, stopping to lean back against a wall when he manages to get further down the hall.
you tumble against him as he does, making a small sound. "we're moving," he hears you utter. "is the earth spinning?"
yes, you idiot, is what akaashi wants to hiss at you for getting him into this mess and shattering his nighttime serenity. instead, he bites his lip and ignores you, investing the time in thinking about his plan from here onward to contain you.
after they take the lift to the lobby, your dormitory is a few blocks down from here. a ten minute walk - which could be halved into five, if they take the shortcut. it'll be over in no time. once in your dormitory, then he will find some way to restrain your movement to a couch, a bed, or anything that you can lie on to not overexert his arms from carrying you around. for the next hour until yaku rushes back, akaashi will babysit you with minimal effort.
and then finally, peace will be granted. time will fly by if he forces himself to not dread the single hour he has to spend babysitting you. even if you are one of the worst drunks he's ever met, the experience of dealing with bokuto, kuroo, his teammates, accumulates as training for this very day. the final boss.
cracking his eyes open, akaashi glances at the lift doors in front of them. his hand lifts from resting against your back to reach for the button.
your body tilts toward the side where his arm moves away like the leaning tower of pisa, except with a hundred percent chance of toppling. instantly, his arm is back around your waist, securing you against him. a smile broadens on your face at the gesture, your arms tightening impossibly around his waist.
from the looks of it, he will have to hold you against himself the whole way back to your dormitory. oh joy.
the lift doors slide soundlessly open as the ding alerts him of its arrival. akaashi slides an arm around your back and hugs you to his chest, manoeuvring the both of you inside. his sneakers squeak against the floor as he turns robotically, with awkward pauses to constantly adjust his hold.
as if you're out to get him, your legs keep sliding between his, tripping him up. you giggle whenever he stumbles forward, breath catching in his throat when he nearly lands face first on the floor with you possibly taking the brunt of the fall.
"stop that," he warns you, though it's not your fault either that your limbs are all out of sorts. in response, your giggles halt, sensing you've been scolded. your head lowers slightly, lip jutting out in a tiny pout.
your face makes you look annoyingly cute that way. it only pushes his buttons a little more, hating the fact that your face brings you such virtues for his photography but disarms the resentment he should be feeling towards you.
akaashi pointedly directs his attention to the numbers counting down the levels during their descent. at least that shuts you up temporarily, so he doesn't have to listen to you egg him on with your giggles.
the cool night air breezes past his cheeks in soft greeting when they step out, the heat of the party left behind. a few leaves scramble past on the concrete flooring. the lights affixed to the covered roofing up ahead wink at him, like the stars in the night sky he can see out of his window - if he were cozied up in his own room.
that thought does wonders to his resolve. "come on," he says, adjusting his grip on your unrelenting body again, preparing himself to start the arduous journey. "cooperate with me, and we'll make it to your lovely dorm safe and sound."
you hum absently, letting him guide your steps down the hallway to his goal.
the pace is slow but consistent. occasionally, your steps slip and he has to haul you back up on your feet. along the way, you shower him with more hilarious compliments and sprinkled in confessions, that he simply "mm-hmms" to. it's peculiar how insistent you are on professing your love for him, even when he has already turned you down once. nothing can stop you from trying, he supposes, and it's a trait he will get used to. you'll give it up when the phase passes.
as the walk continues, akaashi finds himself surprised by how...easy to handle you are. don't get him wrong, you refusing to stay an inch away from his side is a hassle, but he really expected worse from you. like dragging him out of the hallway and overturning the route to your dormitory. singing at the top of your lungs until students from neighbouring dormitories yell and shake their fists. getting distracted by every common weed and wildflower you see in your path. but none of that happens, and you are trudging happily by his side, prattling about his allure.
...perhaps your rank on the top ten worst drunks list is an overestimation. he will mentally catalogue you somewhere under bokuto and kuroo.
the universe is smiling on him. mercy has been doled upon him, a plea deal, after a series of tonight's unfortunate events.
──── ⟡ 📷 ⟡ ────
this supposed grace of the universe does not last, because ten minutes after you have been brought into your dormitory, you make your first outrageous demand.
"bring me a glass of ice cubes." you dangle your hand off the side of the couch where you are lying on, waggling your fingers.
akaashi rises slowly from where he's seated on the chair facing the couch, watching over your slumped body, feet waving back and forth on the edge. it seems you will suffer a horrible fate if at any given point you are not moving a limb. he heads into the kitchen to scavenge in the freezer for a cup of ice, unbeknownst to the trap awaiting him when he returns.
in his present naive state, he turns the ice tray over, knocking out a few chunks into the cup. they clink against each other, gradually filling up the space until there's none left. then he goes back to the living room and passes it into your waiting hand. he settles back down as you hold it up to your lips and a mini avalanche occurs, a few of them sliding onto your tongue.
akaashi watches you in a mix of dread and fascination. he hates this part of waiting out for the drunk to fall asleep, or in this case, for yaku to come back. the drunken become needy here, bodies unable to comply to whatever strange desires are stored in their minds and require sober vessels to heed their demand, else havoc be unleashed when they try to solve it for themselves. it's his least favourite parts of babysitting them.
yours is no stranger to being subjected to the same plight.
barely even a second after the first ice cube dissolves in your mouth and you can speak, you frown and peer into the cup like a petulant child ready to chuck it out of sight.
"this isn't nugget ice."
"pardon?" akaashi's eyebrows crease together.
"nugget ice. this isn't nugget ice. it doesn't feel like nugget ice does."
his stare turns incredulous the more you speak a language foreign to his ears. he understands the words, but the meaning is lost in translation. what in tarnation you are spouting - nugget ice? does such a thing exist, or are you making it up because you're not thinking straight and might be hallucinating the existence of such an unheard ice type?
you swirl the cup in your hand, hearing the ice clink together, nose scrunching in disgust.
"yep. does not sound like nugget ice at all. it sounds more...crisp. lighter."
akaashi is convinced an alien invaded your body in the span of the seconds that he was gone from your side, possessed you and is now wearing your skin.
his hand shoots out and plucks the glass of ice cubes away before you allow it to break into a million tiny pieces. holding it up for himself to inspect, the light bounces off the glass, illuminating the dense fog that sits within the squarish frozen confines.
these are normal ice cubes. you are trying to gaslight him in your inebriated state, feeding him lies that are causing him to doubt ice cubes like a fool. there is no such thing as nugget ice, he is sure of it, as he casts the glass aside on a table since you are so ungrateful for it.
"you're drunk. there is no such thing as 'nugget ice', as you call it." he says calmly, voice laced with the tone of one he has used to resolve countless disputes with former drunks in his life.
being the loyal devout believer of nugget ice you are, you spring up in your seat, swaying a little, face contorted in rude shock. "it's legit! nugget ice is real!"
"please lie back down. you're increasing the risks of vertigo and vice versa, fainting."
with an adamant shake of the head, your arms cross one over the other tightly. "nugget ice is real and absolutely delicious, better than any ice you've tasted. i want a cup of nugget ice now."
his lips flatten into a thin rod. "I am not getting you a cup of nugget ice because it doesn't exist."
you do not budge an inch despite the way your body wavers slightly like a leaf hanging crookedly from a tree branch. a singular gush of the wind, and you'll be swept up into the swirling currents. your stare is affixed to his. whoever glances away first concedes to the other.
the audacity you have to be so horribly stubborn grates on his nerves that he actually plays along with your petty game, returning your stare unblinkingly until yours glaze over with a sheen of tears. his lips almost tilt into a smirk when you surrender to a blink, before he realises how low he has stooped to being competitive with someone who is drunk and suppresses the urge.
akaashi places his hand on your shoulder and tries to gently push you to lie on your back. "cooperate with me and just rest-"
your shoulder writhes out of his grasp disobediently, hand pressing against his chest, seating him back down. "again."
his bottom hits the surface of the chair easier than it should have for your weak push, as if he's scooting away from your touch. he gawks at you over the rim of his glasses that slides a centimetre down from the bridge of his nose.
ignoring his stupor, you run a hand through your hair, fingers curling and twitching to struggle out of the tangles as they go down. squeezing your eyes shut like you're forcing out any tears that may threaten to sabotage your next contest, you reopen them with a determination that strives to scorch his former victory.
his mind latches onto what you are implying with that vague command a second after. "you're being ridiculous."
a noncommittal hum. "you accepted my contest the first time without complaints."
"that's-" akaashi stills. his competitive streak had flared and crushed any other rational, sober thought when he saw your clear invitation. went ahead and snagged it like a ravenous lion desperate to prove his superiority. so much for wanting to be the bigger person.
flames lick at the tips of his ears. his eyes narrow into little slits. "i can reject you. just because i entertained you the first time doesn't mean i will do it again."
your eyelids lower. not the expression of defeat he wished to paint on your face, but rather - an undeterred challenge that glints as your lips pull into a smug smile. "then how about this? if you play with me and win this round, you get to command me and i have to listen to you...but if i win..."
inclining forward, your voice falls to a playful whisper. face now an inch closer to his, the smell of alcohol tickling his nose. "...anything i say goes."
a single line is being chanted over and over in his ears. don't listen to you. don't listen to you. don't listen to you. it echoes in the canal of his ears. but where it is supposed to venture all the way up to the auditory cortex, the phrase deconstructs and jumbles, turning into mish mash by the stirring of his competitiveness guzzling forth into his bloodstream.
"fine." the word flits out, sharp. "one round."
at the end of this round, you will come to discover he's insanely good in not blinking and squashing the mischievousness dancing in your eyes.
──── ⟡ 📷 ⟡ ────
expecting fairness and decency from the drunk is like getting the left cheek slapped and turning your face for another.
akaashi's cheeks are now sore. not from getting slapped, though, but figuratively, he has. from getting pinched. by your traitorous fingers when he was only starting to revel in how your eyes had begun to water again.
he had to bite his lips to cut off mid-howl, shaking his cheek free from your loose grip, not firm enough due to the fact that you were drunk. which powered him on to snap his eyes wide open the last minute before his upper and lower eyelid made contact, on the cusp of winning because a simple glimpse of your eyes told him your facade wouldn't hold up too.
then your fingers had to go and pinch his thigh. and twist. so hard, he could feel it through the fabric of his corduroy black pants. even biting the inside of his cheek failed to muffle his hoarse yelp, and on the last moment, he blinked a second earlier than you did.
victory had gone to you. wrongfully so, the fact that it had made him enter an almost vegetative state of mind. your cheers melted into background noise, tugging on his sleeve and demanding he take you to the convenience store so you could show him what 'nugget ice' was.
the chirping of cicadas and the gurgling of bullfrogs were louder than when the both of you were walking to the dormitory. lights perched on the roof of the sheltered open air hallways shone a little brighter in accommodation of the pitch blackness of the sky that had turned a few shades darker since. your footsteps bounced down the hallway leading out of the dormitory building compounds, uneven and rushed.
if not for the tight hold he kept on your hand, you would have tripped over your own bumbling feet, toppled over a pebble, or slammed right into a wall. he pulled you back on track each time you drifted in the wrong direction, yanked you out of the path of an incoming wall.
all the while, you were babbling excitedly about the first time you had tasted 'nugget ice'. whatever this exotic, made up thing was, you spoke about it like the saviour of your soul, revitalising you from the sluggishness he was confident by this point you should be feeling from the liquor.
akaashi did not trouble himself by listening, though. the scar of your betrayal had yet to heal, his loss piercing like salt in the wound. he had failed to garner control despite being the sober one, now being led on a leash by the person he was meant to babysit. you were a f5 tornado bulldozing over his intricately woven containment plans-
click clack.
his shoulders tensed, ears perking up at the familiar clicking sound growing closer in proximity behind them. whipping his head back, he surveyed the empty, open air sheltered hallway behind them- nobody.
yet the click clacking of heels continued, so did your oblivious chattering. he felt a harsh pull on his hand, whirling back around to steel you upright.
click clack. click clack. click clack.
who would be awake at this hour? it was well past midnight and no rule abiding student would roam the halls unless they were troublemakers. or unless, they were lecturers on overtime leaving the school campus-
an epiphany dawned, parting akaashi's lips and drying them, grinding his steps to a halt. faintly, he felt you strain forward, his fingers digging into your wrist to hold you back.
no student with a clean record would sneak out of their dormitories. but here they were, a pair of unintentional troublemakers walking right into the jaws of delinquency.
right before him, akaashi could see his pristine record being torched and withering into ashes. along with it, the chances of claiming first place in the photography competition when they checked his records stained with this particular incident in black ink, blotching out the colourful ideas for the winning album.
the knob at the end of the hallway twisted. and akaashi did not hesitate, acting purely on instinct as he dragged you behind him, sprinting off the hallway and to the side of the nearest building - the gymnasium - and flattened the both of your backs to the concrete wall.
slapping his hand over your mouth, he muffled the tiny whine escaping it. at the obtrusion, your fingers tried to claw their way past the gaps of his. your index fingers prodded the crook of his thumb and wormed its way through.
he tugged your hands away before you could make a successful attempt. "stay still and be quiet," akaashi hissed.
you replied him with a discordant whine, twisting your wrists to try and break free of him pinning them down. your head lolled from right to left.
fine. there was no time to reason with you as the clacking of the high heels had made it out into the hallway. he clamped down harder on your mouth, knowing that the littlest of sounds could give them away in the silence of the night even if they were out of sight.
a door slammed shut some distance away. finally, akaashi released your straining wrists and his hand from your mouth, shoulders sinking in relief from rescuing his track record from the trenches.
and then an unbelievable surge of pain thrummed through his body, zigzagging down his nerves in less than a second, bringing him to his knees. his hands flew to the origin between his legs, head bucking backwards with a growl to slam into the concrete wall behind him.
dizziness plummeted him at once. while his surroundings spun slightly, he caught your expression - smirk practically carved across your face, brows lifted teasingly as you brought him to his knees.
within minutes, that dizziness and pain erupted into a roaring wave of anger. it breached the limits of his patience from tolerating your antics all night long, spitting froth and steam.
"what the fuck," he spat, dusting off his knees as he stood sharply. "did you do that for?"
the potency of his anger must have registered even in your drunken self, because the smirk slinked off your face at once. "you were hurting me." you replied defensively, bracing your hands against the wall to steady your swaying gait.
"that's because you wouldn't stay still or quiet when i told you to!" akaashi said through gritted teeth, hands reaching up to grip both your shoulders and steady you. "there was a lecturer and she could have caught the both of us wandering out of campus after hours. the both of us could have gotten seriously punished!"
your eyes widened in shock. "there was?"
"yes, there was!" akaashi's hands squeezed once around your shoulders, before falling away to his side - remembering how you had said he was hurting you earlier with his touch. the fresh searing brand of anger that had overtaken him earlier now simmered and cooled at the flash of guilt in your eyes.
he sighed, shoving his hands into his pockets. you were fiddling with the hem of your shirt awkwardly now, all glum and sombre, refusing to meet his eyes. it struck him as baffling how a moment ago, this same person had kicked his crotch and endangered a whole bloodline.
but he could not stay mad at you. sure, he was pissed, but you were probably drunk and confused. neither of you had the capacity to think straight right now - he had to admit, he was losing touch of the calmness he prided himself on having when it came to handling drunks.
"come on," he grabbed your wrist, adjusting his grip so it was gentle this time and started in the direction of where he knew there was a shortcut, a safer route to get to the parking lot without getting spotted by lecturers. "i know a better way."
you followed without resistance, the both of you walking silently along the side of the gymnasium, casting your shadows across the shuttered panes. when the narrow path opened up to an open air area where the entrance to the gymnasium was stationed and a sheltered walkway connected it to the left wing of the college campus, akaashi veered right, to where the top of a staircase came into view. approaching it revealed a series of steps descending downwards to the parking lot.
starting down the steps was difficult for your unsteady footing, so he supported you by the waist, going down one step at a time.
"i'm sorry for kicking your balls." you mumbled meekly, fisting his shirt at the shoulder for better balance.
akaashi cringed at the memory, the phantom pain pulsing in recognition. "don't mention it." he murmured, voice a low grumble.
the both of you make the collective effort to work down the rest of the steps in shared silence. it doesn't take long for you to shatter it once again, bursting to say something after worrying your bottom lip for so long under your teeth.
"are your balls going to be okay? i put all of my strength i can feel into that kick."
"that was your full strength?" akaashi can't help himself from wondering aloud. a shudder works its way down his spine. thank god you're drunk. if you were sober...well, it's not guaranteed whether he would be able to stand for at least an hour.
"yeah." you reply. "i used to be in taekwondo. i got into it wanting to get a black belt, but lost passion halfway through working my way to the top. the seniors are...not so hospitable to juniors who want to be better."
that explains why you are surprisingly physical when drunk. his gaze flicks up from watching the steps to yours, studying the gnawing of your lip as you speak of the past.
"your seniors sound like pretentious bastards." the insult slips and he's not bothered to take it back. he hears a chuckle come from your side and your hand slides from his shoulder, to which he immediately places a hand over that and secures your hold. "what colour belt did you manage to get to, at least?"
"red. it was my favourite colour, so i'm satisfied even if i didn't make it to black." you shrug, shoulders brushing against his. "maybe someday i'll try again."
clearing the last step, he loosens his hold on your hand that rests on his shoulder. your touch lingers for a while before falling off, though he remains holding your wrist so he can guide you to his car.
he's fishing out his car keys from his pocket when you pipe up again.
"your ability to reproduce will be alright, right? i didn't destroy the generations of beautiful akaashis to come?"
the slippery metal of his car keys almost dives headfirst onto the asphalt of the parking lot. his fumbling fingers loop around the keyring in time, saving it from the plummet.
"yes, the namesake of the akaashi family of the future will be fine." he says quickly after clearing his throat, opening the passenger door to busy his hands.
you flop into the passenger seat and he shuts the door after you. going around the car, he enters from the driver's side and closes it, sticking the key into the ignition to kickstart the vehicle.
the engine rumbles to life just as your mouth opens in time to fire another one of those disturbing inquiries: "are you really sure? maybe you should schedule a visit to the urologist to check for a testicular rupture-"
akaashi's foot slams down on the gas and jerks the charcoal grey sedan forward with a lurch. you let out a squeak, frantically pulling at your seatbelt strap with uncoordinated hands, missing the buckle at least twice, jabbing the clip into empty space.
witnessing your helplessness, he huffs and goes over to fasten it for you before his white knuckled grip is back on the steering wheel as he pulls out of the parking lot.
"can we stop talking about my balls?" he grits out painfully behind clenched teeth. "let's talk about something else instead, please." or sit in silence. he'd love that.
"okay," you agree, which allows the bunched up muscles of his arm to loosen up a little. the state of his penis has never been discussed this much and he is not used to talking about them that often. "should we talk about mine instead?"
what.
akaashi has the sense to restrain his other foot from jamming down on the brake in shock. instead he compresses it into a slow turn of his head to face you sitting in the passenger seat with your legs kicked up on the dashboard, sandals abandoned below your seat, eyes comically wide and innocent.
it takes him a full minute to realise that was meant to be a joke. the shock slowly fizzles out when you begin laughing, shoulders shaking. akaashi is positive his cheeks have turned the shade of the red light up ahead on the road, hiding it by fiercely turning his head back around.
"very funny." his dry tone is somehow peak comedy for your taste in humour, because your laugh escalates into a full on wheeze. slapping your thigh, you gasp for air whilst he broils in complete shame at being so gullible.
your body rolls sideways, one of your toes on your feet relaxing on the surface of his dashboard bumping into the cedar wood air freshener. his skin prickles with irritation, zeroing in on your toe brushing against the circular antenna of his trusty friend richardson.
"keep your feet away from the dashboard," he says, trying to focus on the road - but his attention is magnetised to the horrific sight by some kind of unknown forcefield. a high regard for sanitation, probably. this is his car - where he spends half his time in commuting to and fro. the air he breathes is in danger of being corroded by your toe particles.
the incessant sound of your laughter gradually dies down by a few sniffles and snorts. you roll on your other side to face him, still lazing luxuriously like he is your chauffeur and you are an a list celebrity being driven around. with your foot still too close to his air freshener for comfort.
"mm. but i like lying down like this." you wriggle your toes on the dashboard, rubbing them more against poor richardson who must be suffocating. "and this air conditioner toy robot feels amazingly good on my feet."
his eye twitches. "that's my air freshener."
"ah. but there's cool air coming out of it." you caress a toe on richardson's rounded head and sighs dreamily.
akaashi is being tortured in a living nightmare. the irritation bites into his skin like an icy chill, overwhelming any lingering awareness of the street he is driving down to the convenience store. the stormy note of his voice cuts into the words, nicking the air around in the form of an imaginary knife. "what you're feeling is the expansion of compressed propellants in aerosol cans and released mist from my air freshener. once again, please put your feet down."
"then what should i rest my feet on? this is the only available surface to me and it feels like heaven beneath my feet-"
that's it. sucking in a deep breath, akaashi spins his body fully to face you, hands armed like weapons leaving the wheel to tackle your disobedient feet onto the ground.
his fingers have yet to wrap fully around your ankle when you shriek, the colour of screaming red bathing your features slack with horror. "RED LIGHT! AKAASHI, THE RED LIGHT!"
instinct punches into him. releasing your feet, his hands are flying back onto the steering wheel and stomps down on the brake.
the car skids to a halt just a little way over the marked line on the road, slamming the both of your foreheads down on the dashboard. he shields his with the backs of his palms clenched around the steering wheel, but you are not so lucky, judging from the pained wince you let out.
his chest is rising and falling steadily, trying to catch his breath that he had been confining in his lungs through the whole ordeal. beside him, you slump back into your seat, wrapping your arms around your knees.
"we nearly died." he hears you breathe. "we're survivors."
akaashi retracts his head in lightning speed from nestling it against the backs of his palms, ready to lash out at you, but the red light switches to a bright green in the reflection of your eyes. jaw locked tight, he floors the gas pedal and drives forward, holding his tongue until he parks the car in front of the convenience store.
your hand is pinned down to your lap before it even hovers over the seatbelt to unbuckle it. akaashi looms over you threateningly, dark gaze boring into your wide ones.
"you're staying in the car." he drawls, eyes never leaving yours in warning as he cranks the passenger window to your side down an inch.
indignation swells upon your lips that instantly part to justify your free will in being allowed outside. but akaashi is faster. in the span of time he spent babysitting you, he is beginning to adapt to your meddlesome ways of bickering your way out. he shuts it down swiftly with a press of his hand to your mouth.
"no, no, no. don't argue." black pools of vengeance stare you down, a shaky exhale brushing your cheeks. "you're lucky to have such a pretty face to charm everyone into letting you have your way, but not this time. you are staying in the car, and that's final. you are allowed to do anything in here - fiddle all you like, rest your feet on the dashboard if that's what you want - but by all means, do not follow me to the convenience store."
it must be clear even through the drunken haze of your mind that he has had enough, because you do not say another word against him. his hand leaves your mouth. unbuckling his seatbelt with one hand, he exits and slams the car door behind him, leaving you alone to stew in his absence.
even with each step he takes away from the car, he can feel the shift of your eyes following him to the convenience store door. when the glass doors of the convenience store swings shut, it skulks and lingers, like a puppy wistfully watching their owner.
akaashi's mind conjures up the lonely sight of you with your knees up in the passenger seat, glumly watching after his retreating form and drawing circles into the cushion. he dismisses the image with a frustrated flick of his head.
at least allow him to be mad at you for a few seconds. a few seconds, before you start to alter his mind's perception and toy with the nerves of his prefrontal cortex.
he strides further into the store, navigating to the aisle where the ice cubes are stored in packages and bags. the cool breeze of the air conditioner grazes the skin of his neck as he lowers his head and pushes the door of the freezer to the side, meticulously scanning the frozen goods for the legendary nugget ice.
after a while of fruitless searching, he gives in and pulls out his phone to type in the mysterious terms into the google searchbar. anticipating the error message to appear in the top bar or google redirecting him to a completely irrelevant search, the first images popping up when the search loads has him doing a double take.
clicking into the first picture shows a bunch of ice cubes that are actually ice cubes, and upon a closer glance, have jagged ridges on their surfaces and are smaller in size.
damn it. you were telling the truth and the alcohol had nothing to do with it.
sliding a palm over his face, he groans into the flesh of it. "you can't be serious."
nonetheless, he takes up the bag of nugget ice at the top without bothering to rifle through the stacks to find the one at the very bottom like he usually does. screw it. you have caused him a turmoil of snowballing problems, he gets to discount the coldness of your nugget ices to get even.
as expected, when he slides into his seat at the driver's, you are curled up into a miserable ball. your hair spills across your face, head leaning against the passenger window, eyes staring longingly into the distance.
akaashi takes advantage of the rare moment that your eyes are not on him to examine your forlorn state - before sighing and wordlessly reaching over to shut your ajar window, leaving the bag of nugget ice in your lap.
like a miracle sprung upon you, your whole demeanour sparkles with life. with a squeal, you tear into the bag and stuff a whole chunk of nugget ice cubes into your mouth. a delighted hum greets him, your cheeks swollen, giving off the impression of a chipmunk scarfing down nuts to hide in the pockets of it.
how simple. the corner of his lips quirk up slightly, before he smooths it back down and pulls away from the front of the convenience store, taking back around to the college campus.
no matter what price or bribe is offered to him, akaashi would willingly skydive into the pit of hell than relive this whole day again.
⋮ afterword
i had SO MUCH FUN writing this one i hope y'all had fun reading it too
fortunately yaku and fukunaga were already home when akaashi dropped yn off and he sped home and collapsed into a snoring heap on his bed. my guy is exhausted.
poor yachi got her good night ignored because akaashi breezed past her with one goal in mind which was his bed and will now pull an all nighter curled up in her bed wondering what did she ever do
comment if you want to be tagged on the masterlist (which can be found in the link at the top of the post). please check and adjust your personal settings if you're not tagged properly! if you would like to be removed from the taglist, feel free to dm me and i'll do so.
CW .ᐟ › written content under cut (wc: 7.1k), smaller case intended, check series masterlist for extra information, drinking, slight suggestive comments, perspectives change so it might be confusing!
"happy birthday, akaashi!"
party poppers went off, littering the floor in a sea of rainbow flakes, showering a wide eyed akaashi who tried his best not to flinch when the 'pop!' sound crackled through the air.
very quickly, he was surrounded. kuroo grinned at him, slinging an arm around his shoulders and pulling him into the circle. bokuto pulled the tab off an asahi beer can drink with shoved it into his hands.
something along the lines of, 'we're so glad you're here tonight, akaashi!' was said from bokuto's lips, but he was much too overwhelmed to comprehend the rest of his happy babbling. his eyes darted around the place, realising that the other three pairs of shoes outside the dorm room belonged to three new faces standing amongst the circle.
there was yaku and fukunaga, kuroo's friends that he recognised in his high school volleyball days competing against the nekoma team. skimming their lopsided party hats, akaashi wondered if they had been called here in a hurry or arrived just in time.
and then there's you.
akaashi blinked. a confetti bit fluttered from being nestled in his dark strands to invade the frame of his glasses, to which he batted away. he wondered, for a second, if he were seeing things. maybe he'd agonised far too long, zoning out staring at your face trying to decide which picture he should pick that would objectively appear better on his portfolio for the competition.
your continued presence before him suggested otherwise. you really were here, for whatever reason, dressed in an outfit of mixed blacks, whites, a pair of suspiciously black ears hanging from a hairband sitting atop your vibrant ginger curls - hang on a second, were you attempting to cosplay snoopy?
it was at that point that he realised you weren't the only one.
everybody was dressed in some form of snoopy cosplay, varying from the ones that actually looked like there was effort put into it, like yours - to the ones that were definitely thrown together as a last ditch effort to fit into the unspoken theme he was witnessing.
a water droplet rolling down the side of the condensing cold can he had been clutching touched his hand, shocking his skin. his mind finally adjusted, tuning back into whatever bokuto was saying.
"so you got anything to say as the birthday boy, 'kaashi? any birthday wishes?" bokuto inquired, pinning him with a bright beam that akaashi knew from all the years of hanging by his side that this question held an ulterior motive behind it.
"or regrets," kuroo chimed in. "or, you know, desires."
akaashi didn't like the way his voice lowered on that last note or the direction where his eyes slid to glance at you. your eyebrows shot up, lips crooking into a nervous (or possibly constipated) smile.
already stirring the pot from the get go. classic bokuto and kuroo move.
"uh," akaashi started, clearing his throat. "thanks for planning all of this. i wasn't expecting such a...warm reception. i did forget today was supposed to be my birthday, with what i've been busy with..."
he paused, cutting himself off before he began to ramble about the multiple projects open on his laptop back at his dorm room.
"so, is there a set list of things planned or i get to pick whatever?"
kuroo and bokuto both jumped at the question. a brief delight exchanged between them. suspicion and wariness twisted in akaashi's gut.
"excellent question," kuroo said, grabbing his shoulder and guiding him toward the coffee table in the center of the dorm room. "we'll introduce the exciting flow of events over sashimi."
the group gathered around the table piled high with boxes of sashimi. glittering platters of fresh yellowfin tuna belly, salmon and swordfish winked invitingly, inciting the call of his famished stomach. an asahi beer can had been similarly distributed to each person. akaashi settled onto the floor cushion in between bokuto and you.
fukunaga began to take the lids off each box of sashimi as kuroo popped open his can of beer and held it up in the air, "first things first, a toast to the birthday boy! to akaashi, wishing him success in his academics and the road ahead!"
tabs of beer cans crackled resoundingly. with his already open, akaashi waited a second before joining those with their cans hovering in the air. all but one that belonged to you, which elicited a chuckle from kuroo's side.
you were struggling to peel open the tab, using both hands and yet not being able to make much of a difference. the sight was a pitiful one to behold, though akaashi couldn't have been surprised, you didn't seem like someone to drink often.
"comments not appreciated, kuroo," you grumbled. your finger quivered, frustration inching into your voice at the stubborn nature of the can.
"i didn't even say anything." kuroo replied, tone betraying his amusement with a slight lift of his eyebrow as he watched you fight a losing battle against the can tab from the side.
"you don't have to say anything for me to know what insulting comment probably goes on in your head." you snorted.
"here, let me help," akaashi set down his own can of beer and reached out to take yours. with the slightest flick of his fingers, he tugged the tab open easily with a soft crack.
your stunned expression shifted into one of gratitude when he handed the can back into your waiting hands. "thank you," you replied, shooting him a smile before turning back to kuroo with a soft huff, hiding the shade of light pink that stained your cheeks from him. "see, this is what you do when you see someone struggling."
"ahh, my bad." kuroo apologised, his words not matching the somewhat smug grin on his face. "i'll do that next time, learning from akaashi who's showed us a good example."
akaashi narrowed his eyes at kuroo slightly. it was pretty evident now they were trying to drive a point home and he wasn't sure if he liked it. for now they didn't seem to be pushing it too much - so instead of calling them out, he picked up his beer can and joined the toast. you followed, hand bumping against his for a second before pulling away.
"right!" you exclaimed, laughing nervously again. "toast to akaashi, wishing him success in his academics and the road ahead!"
the sentiment was echoed around the group before the dull clink of beer cans sounded in the room when they clashed against each other. withdrawing his can, akaashi took a sip. the fizz and the zingy citrus undertones tickling his tastebuds before fading, disappearing down his throat.
personally, he didn't like drinking too much. yet, it's been a long time since he picked up a can of beer. for the past few weeks, caffeine took over any other sort of drink he could think about getting, so finally tasting something other than it felt like a refreshing change.
kuroo sighed after taking an entire swig. "ahh, that's the stuff." he placed his can down on the table with a faint thud, rubbing his hands together. "now let's get into the fun part. bokuto, take it away."
bokuto slammed down his can, eyes igniting at his time to shine. akaashi watched as bokuto straightened up, liveliness entering his gait that conversely, caused a sense of unease to ripple through him.
"now, where was it..." bokuto muttered, hands patting his pockets. akaashi squinted, trying to see what exactly he could be looking for, just to clue himself into whatever disaster might be brewing in his head.
"it's sticking out from your left pocket." kenma muttered beside bokuto in aid of his futile search.
"oh yeah!" bokuto beamed and let his seat cushion flop back in place from where he had been digging under to search, reaching over to his left pocket to fish out a poker card. "this is the key ingredient in today's very fun and exhilarating game!"
he stopped and shot akaashi a questioning stare.
"yes, you used 'exhilarating' right." akaashi answered. he's not too sure if it would be a fun and exhilarating game, or rather, a nerve wrecking one he was starting to dread.
the other continued happily, oblivious to the growing turmoil in akaashi's mind of the unknown. "so this card, which you see here, is the ace of hearts."
the card was passed around the group for better clarification. kenma passed the card to fukunaga without sparing it a glance, who poked and prodded at it like it was like a lab experiment before murmuring, 'interesting' and passed it on to yaku, whom shot him a weird look and gave the card a once over.
"how interesting," kuroo remarked as he took over the card from yaku's side. "and what's the name of this game called, bo?"
akaashi picked up his can, wondering silently if he took more sips, the five percent alcohol content in it could wear off the subtle uneasiness chewing away at him. a small poke to his right drew his attention to you, the ace of hearts slid between your fingers in offering.
he reached out to take the card from your hand, raising his can of beer to his lips to take a sip as he did.
"-suck and blow!"
and choked on the same sip.
"-AKAASHI!" both individuals sitting on either side of him cried out in alarm. akaashi immediately averted his flustered gaze from making direct eye contact with anybody, hiding it in his arm, acutely aware of the flare of heat creeping across his cheeks.
a hand came down on his back with a slap so hard his shoulders jerked upwards in shock. akaashi winced, the coughing fits that he had been desperately trying to regulate from choking on his drink earlier increased tenfold.
"woah, are you trying to kill him or something, bokuto? not so hard!" yaku exclaimed from somewhere behind akaashi. he must have leapt up from his seat witnessing the commotion, damage mediator mode activated.
"sorry!" bokuto squeaked, switching instantly to lightly patting akaashi's back.
drawing in a deep breath, akaashi squeezed his eyes shut in quiet exasperation. his back stung with the remnants of the lively ace's strength. in that moment, he resonated with the numerous poor balls that were victims in their past time practice matches and drills.
"let him drink some water," yaku advised. "the fizz of the beer must have gotten to him."
akaashi's eyes fluttered open weakly to find you at his side, scrambling to comply with yaku's directions. you handed him your can of beer at first - before realising your mistake and swapping that out for a cup of water kuroo poured hastily into a mug.
wrapping his fingers around the handle of the mug, he took a few slow, steady sips of the water. it tasted awfully bland in comparison to the delightful tangy flavours of the beer, but was what he needed to calm down.
once he felt the flush retreat from his face, he waved all the extra attention given to him away. as they returned back to their respective seats, akaashi spun around, setting down the empty mug.
"uh, thanks." he bowed his head, acknowledging the thoughtful care in the immediate aid provided to him.
yaku shook his head. "you should drink slower, there's no need to rush."
yeah, he had been doing that the whole time. akaashi willed his face to remain neutral and not think about what he had actually been caught off guard by. kuroo's lips pitched upwards into a smirk, as if latching onto his inner thoughts.
"yeah, got it. sorry about the interruption." he looked at bokuto, pointedly avoiding kuroo's knowing gaze. "so, what's this...game about?"
it couldn't be what he was thinking about. however bold the chaos duo could become - they would never try something as scandalous or outrageous as this, especially in the presence of someone new.
and in case it were, akaashi was already devising alternative excuses he could use to get out of it.
"i'll start with a physical demonstration!" bokuto announced, surveying the faces around the table. a glint sparkled in his golden eyes as they fell on akaashi and you. the cold chill akaashi had been feeling from the moment he had set foot into the dorm room blanketed him again.
before he could think further of what could possibly be occurring in bokuto's thought process, bokuto snapped his fingers. "akaashi and yn, could you turn and face one another?"
a string of expletives invaded his head. of course. the insane urge to disregard the party happening and corner both kuroo and bokuto into a room to interrogate them on their diabolical plans wrestled with the rational side of himself.
stealing a glance at you, he noticed you were already shifting to face him, criss crossing your legs. there was a veiled nervousness in your motions, to which led akaashi to the thought of whether you were being blackmailed into becoming a participant.
the rational side of him won. akaashi could not turn down the mere innocent offer of a demonstration, no matter how sneaky a manner it was achieved. slowly, he angled his body to face you as well.
bokuto stood, walked over to where the two of you were facing each other, before getting down onto his knees.
"we'll start with akaashi. akaashi, please press this card to your lips." bokuto hands over the ace of hearts to akaashi. when it is taken from his hand, he adds on, "you'll need to press the card to your lips and keep it there. in order to do that, you'll have to suck the air in from your mouth so the card stays."
his mind whirs at the instructions, ten steps ahead, piecing together what happens next in the rules of the game. as the realisation dawns upon him like an ice cold bucket of water, the card in his hands no longer feels light - it is heavy, like a knife.
a knife, that once dropped, will cause consequences that would lead to a consequence worser than death.
"you'll have to lean in and pass the card onto the lips of the next person, yn." bokuto's voice rises for the next line, nearly exploding in glee. "but if you drop it - you'll have to take a shot and kiss them."
the faintest bit of sweat coated his palm. it was hell trying to fix his features in a manner that made him appear unbothered when your eyes wouldn't look away from him, while he conjured a scene of himself strangling kuroo and bokuto with a grip as tight as the knot in his stomach.
"let's begin with the two of you!" bokuto interjected into the haze of akaashi's vivid imaginations. clapping a hand on their backs, he pushed them closer together, knees touching.
the warmth that travelled between the both of you at the encouraged proximity made you swallow thickly, though your gaze never once broke from akaashi's. akaashi didn't know where to look either except for you - wide eyed gazes locked onto one another, freezing in position even as bokuto's hands lifted from their shoulders.
"now this is going to be exciting," kuroo commentated from the side, elbows wandering onto the table as he cupped his cheeks, a devious grin nearly splitting his face into half. "will they succeed, or will they have to experience the excitement of failing this task together?"
the card nearly slipped out of akaashi's hand as he raised it. the red hearts burned into his vision, a visual taunt daring him to drop it. inhaling sharply through his nose, he pressed the smooth surface of it to his lips gingerly.
the attention from those seated around the table, witnessing this spectacle, weighed heavy on his shoulders. he cast it away, choosing to focus on puckering his lips and sucking the air into his mouth. the control on the card waned slightly, his heart hammering loudly in his chest, before stabilising to a perfect perch on his lips.
sliding his gaze to meet yours, resolve gathered within him. he leaned forward with the card balanced precariously, every single moment he held the card in place was a battle of the stamina between his lung capacity and composure.
your breath brushed his cheeks in a faint caress when he got close enough. akaashi wanted to stay a respectable distance away from your face to not make you uncomfortable, given how quickly your cheeks were turning a prominent shade of pink as he closed the distance, but the fear of dropping the card meant too much for him to concentrate on anything else.
then in one, swift movement, kuroo's elbow jutted forward and nudged you forward.
that sent you off balance. with a startled gasp, you leaned way too much into akaashi's orbit and bumped your forehead against his.
the brush of your forehead tickling his was the near catalyst to his doom. panic zipped through akaashi's veins as his breath faltered, the card tilting askew and on the verge of fluttering away from his lips.
a groan bubbled to his lips, but making such a sound would be the finality of his demise. expelling air was the last thing he wanted to do. akaashi's hand shot out from his side, fingers curling into the skin of your arm to prevent you from moving forward.
you jumped, lashes fluttering, not expecting him to touch you. seeing the inevitable motion that would very likely lead him to failure, akaashi's hand tightened on your arm, praying for you to hold out a little longer, and decisively closed the gap.
he silenced you by pressing the card to your lips. fortunately, they were parted, and as you sucked in a gasp of air - the card clung to your lips.
akaashi pulled away immediately, not allowing the heat seeping through the thinness of the card to linger on his lips, releasing his hold on your arm. his heartbeat slowed to a relieving rhythm, watching as you tried to keep the card in place.
"aw man! that went by faster than I thought it would!" bokuto whined, deflating with a pout.
“maybe you should try again, akaashi. i’m sure it’s against the rules to touch your partner with anything other than your lips.” kuroo chimed in, lips slanted in suggestion. his elbow was now tucked against his side. the traitorous move of it jutting out was not forgotten in akaashi’s excellent memory.
“i was merely adapting to unforeseen circumstances,” akaashi replied dryly, eyeing the two devils who schemed behind his back in exasperation. “i’m sure it’s also against the rules for outsider interference.”
kuroo laughed in reply, completely unrepentant in his method of foul play. “my bad - the atmosphere was so tense, i had to stretch my limbs out a little.”
“sure you do,” akaashi murmured, mentally adding on to the charges in how he would make them both suffer after the party was over.
he spotted you rubbing your arm, removing the card from your lips for a brief moment of reprieve. he remembered how his fingers had held your arm - a little too tightly, it could have hurt when they dug into your skin.
dipping his head, akaashi leaned in to your side when the rest were casually debating the rules initiated by the mild curiosity from fukunaga.
“sorry,” he said, lowering his voice so only you could hear. “did i grip you too hard?”
your surprised eyes met his, before they softened into a reassuring smile. “no, i’m fine. don’t worry about it.”
his guilt faded slightly. akaashi nodded before your attention was peeled away by bokuto, beginning the next round between you and kuroo.
giving himself a mental pat on the back, akaashi begin to feel pressing unease ebb away. crisis averted…
…at least for now.
the clock read seven thirty. one hour and thirty minutes left of staying on guard to protect himself from the sly whims of his best friends who feasted upon his slip in composure.
his unfinished photo edits left open on his laptop gnawed at the back of his mind as he watched you and kuroo struggle to cooperate with each other, drifting to how exactly would he highlight the shadows drawn out perfectly in your striking features.
──── ⟡ 📷 ⟡ ────
you've come to learn, akaashi keiji is a maddeningly difficult man.
for the past hour, even with bokuto and kuroo's poking and prodding, pitting him in situations that draw close to being frighteningly intimate, akaashi keiji does not seem to waver.
in fact, his stoicalness is starting to make you a little desperate, and in turn ashamed, because of how desperate you are. it is unreasonable. you shouldn't feel this way when you arrived at the party, read through the list of events kuroo and bokuto had planned out, and expected nothing. you know how akaashi feels towards you - he doesn't feel a single shred of attraction, that much was expressed in your first meeting.
yet. you can't help but yearn for him to finally crack. to show the slightest bit of emotion when his best friends tease him, other than the furrow in his brows when he returns their remarks with satirical dryness.
maybe you are the problem. perhaps you are the cause of your own misery in hoping for something more than you get. conflict wagers in your own heart, treading the thin line between the desire for a mere sign of interest and being polite, unobtrusive, not throwing your dignity out into the wind to pine for something nearly impossible.
attraction is such a painful thing, a rose with thorns. it shimmers and sends fluttery feelings down your spine. it rips your heart out and bares it to the object of your affection.
or maybe you're just stupid in refusing to let go of your own fruitless feelings.
your hand tightens on the can of beer you're drinking. the cold metal digs into your palm. squeezing your eyes shut, you lift the can and drain all of its contents down your throat.
the more you drink, the less of the fizz you begin to feel. at the first sip, it feels like static. after the fourth and the fifth, your tastebuds begin to accommodate. and once you finish the can and move on to more - it starts to vanish, like it was never there. an illusion that your mind has alluded you into feeling.
when you set the can down, wobbling a bit - your head instantly feels lighter. a little hazier. but that's good, that's what you need to distract yourself from the tangled mess of your aggravating feelings. if you are going to come a party which is going to fuss with your head like that, you might as well let loose.
a hand circles around your wrist. you recognise that familiar touch. it tightens subtly, protective and concerned.
"easy there, yn." yaku chides softly. cracking an eye open to look at him, he's frowning at you. the sight makes you want to chuckle. typical yaku, always there to have your back and remind you to get back up on your feet, even when you feel like the human embodiment of trash.
you wave him away, lightly snatching your hand out of his grounding hold. "'m fine!"
the concern doesn't leave his face. if anything, it seems to solidify. "how many cans of beer have you drunk already?"
"um..." you scratch your head and sigh. "four? or was it five? maybe seven? i can't remember. well, it's not really that important. i can still speak."
your dismissive tone sits at odds with him. yaku huffs, crossing his arms. "not being able to speak is a whole new level of dangerous, yn."
a giggle bursts from your lips. he's being worried about nothing. sure, you feel warmer than usual, and your mind occasionally feels like it's floating away from you, but it's still intact. you can properly process what you're saying, even if your tongue feels a little looser than usual. you're not drunk. hell, if you're thinking about being drunk, then you shouldn't be drunk, right?
"you're such a mother," you tease. "were you my mom in my past life?"
yaku eyes your wagging finger with suspicion embedded in his gaze. "i wouldn't dream of becoming that. having to take care of you on a regular basis is already too much work."
"yet you're still taking care of me." you hum, lips stretching into a smile that comes easily without effort.
something waves at the edge of your vision, cutting off yaku's retort. your gaze flits to land on a curved triangular thing - no, not a thing - a snack. fukunaga is holding one up to your face. "want a corn chip, yn?"
a crumb is stuck to the edge of his lips. he takes a handful of them from the packet in his lap with his free hand, and shoves them in his mouth, munching contentedly. a few empty packets lie discarded to his side beside the empty boxes of sashimi, indicating that he's been hoarding them for a while.
"ah, no, it's okay." you shake your head. "i don't really like corn chips. i like corn, but not corn chips. they're like, the fake relatives."
fukunaga shrugs and retracts the corn chip to his side to have it for himself. raising a finger, you gesture at the corner of your own lips. your finger misses the first time round, poking your teeth, and you adjust it subtly.
"you have a crumb here, by the way."
fukunaga blinks and looks down, as if he can actually see it from his point of view, before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. he flips his hand over, trying to check for the supposed crumb. a soft 'ah' leaves his lips when he notices it. plucking it off with his fingers, he pops it back into his mouth without hesitation. beside him, yaku scrunches his nose in disgust.
satisfied, he turns and offers the packet to the pair beside him. "corn chips, kenma and bokuto?"
bokuto straightens up with sparkles dancing in his eyes, eagerly reaching his hand out. in front of him, kenma makes a disgruntled sound muffled by the card plastered to his lips, thinly holding on by sheer willpower in not receiving the punishment.
having had enough, he reaches out and slaps bokuto on the thigh. "ow!" bokuto howls, stretching his hand back from the packet - but not before grabbing a handful of corn chips.
"dih you haf tuh be sho mean, kenma?" bokuto sulks, cheeks puffed up with the volume of corn chips he's stuffed into his own mouth.
kuroo guffaws beside you, delight laced in his voice as he eyes the irritated glare kenma returns bokuto's words with. "can't blame him, bo. he's been holding that card for close to ten minutes because you keep getting distracted."
"it wasn't that long!" bokuto protests, hastily swallowing down the lump of corn chips he's been chewing. he directs his helpless gaze to the male sitting beside him, who's been quiet for some time. "right, 'kaashi?"
the name placates you back in the present, where your mind was starting to drift the moment fukunaga turned away from you. pulled by a magnetic force you're unable to repel, worser still with the fuzziness in your head, your eyes travel to the infuriatingly attractive man sitting next to you.
you recall how he smells when he leaned into you countless times earlier because of the game. like the freshness of clean linen and comforting faint cedarwood. it had tickled your nose, catching the scent on his collar, and it took every single ounce of self restraint inside you to pull away and not lean in even further.
akaashi's gaze flickers from the can of beer he's been nursing in his hands, meeting bokuto's pleading ones. he remains silent for a few seconds, choosing his words to say.
"i don't know, bokuto san. it felt longer than that." he answers, and takes a swig from the can when his best friend gasps dramatically and clutches his own chest, betrayed.
"'kaashi! you're supposed to be on my side!"
"you'll have no side if you continue to ignore kenma. he looks ready to murder you."
immediately, bokuto yelps and faces kenma again, trembling at the sight of his darkened expression. laughter bubbles around the table at that as everyone's attention sets on the unavailing pair rising up to the challenge, but yours remain on the man next to you.
he is quiet again. you notice that. you have been noticing everything he does throughout the party the moment he sat beside you. he barely speaks unless prompted, occasionally takes careful, measured sips from his can of beer. when he settles into this silence, he feels faraway - like his mind is travelling someplace else. everything is does is aligned with his reserved, composed nature.
but you know a world exists beyond what he presents. it exists in his mind, a space you have not gained access to. a thirst claws at you, unspoken, dying to know what he thinks about when he falls silent.
before you can think the better of it, you reach out and poke his arm with a finger. "hey."
akaashi turns his face slightly towards you. when he does, your lips rise on their own - curving into a saccharine smile. your finger stops poking at his arm, but doesn't shift away. it stays there, hooked onto the warmth of his skin you can feel through the fabric of his sleeves.
"what are you thinking about?" the clumsy admittance of your thoughts slips out of your mouth carelessly. liquid courage surges in your veins, ridding you of any possible hesitation.
beer swirls as akaashi shakes his can with the slightest of motions, rocking it from side to side pensively. it almost seems as if he isn't going to answer you. your lips part, ready to speak again, but he beats you to it.
"thinking about how quickly it takes for various people to get drunk."
turning your head from side to side, you scan the faces around the table. bokuto and kenma are still engaged in trying to get the card to each other with an exhausting amount of effort. fukunaga is still happily chowing down on corn chips like a crazed addict. yaku is waving his hands, guiding bokuto how to properly aid kenma in getting the card across. kuroo is chuckling in between swigs of beer and making teasing comments, making light of their tussle.
"nobody's getting drunk, though." your mouth falls open into an exaggerated gasp. "or are you drunk?"
that elicits a huff from him. "no, i am not."
it doesn't sound convincing to you, though at this point, the fogginess in your brain makes you unsure of what to believe. the only thing that you can be sure of is this growing warmth in your chest that spurs you on to tease him.
"then how do you know that people are getting drunk?" you point out, jabbing at his arm again like an attention seeking child.
he eyes your touches with an amused glance, but does not shift his arm out of your reach. instead, he looks elsewhere, and you follow his gaze.
"you observe." he replies, taking a sip of his beer and tilting the rim away from himself once he's done, making a subtle gesture to kuroo's side. "for instance, when kuroo gets drunk, he tends to laugh louder. his cheeks are flushed too, which indicates a certain level of liquor possession."
you giggle at the term. "liquor possession. i like the way you phrase it. i'll be using that from now on whenever somebody gets drunk."
the signature sound of kuroo's laughter would have startled you if akaashi had not prepared you for it. it rings out in the air - accompanied by the sound of him lightly slapping the table. a hand is tangled in the strands of his inky black hair, eyes narrowed in mirth. above his cheshire-like grin, you can spot the tinting of his cheeks.
right on every mark. now your interest is piqued. cupping your cheeks, you tilt your head shyly, though you are probably staring adoringly at him without any shame. "who else can you tell is drunk?"
his finger glides across the skin of his chin, under the curve of his lip, missing the way your stare lingers as he thinks.
"bokuto. his actions and words are carried with a greater intensity of dramaticisation. he's also becoming much sloppier with his movements and tends to be a lot more careless." akaashi answers confidently.
the broad back of bokuto bumps into akaashi when he finishes speaking with a loud groan, prompting him to look away from you for a moment. you savour the opportunity to admire the sweet curve of his jawline when he turns his head.
"ugh, i can't do this anymore! i shouldn't have come up with this game!"
gripping a fistful of his hair, bokuto's elbows clumsily knock over his can of beer. just in time, akaashi's hand moves out swiftly and catches the can of beer before it tips over, saving the contents within. he positions it further away from the edge of the table and wipes the condensation on his jeans.
when he turns to look back at you, the faint inkling that your lips are parted occurs in your brain, and you instantly snap them shut.
his actions send an unexplainable rush to your brain and turns it to mush. the heater in the dorm must be broken, because it suddenly feels as if the temperature has skyrocketed a thirty something more degrees. resisting the urge to tuck your bottom lip under your teeth like the freak you are, you awkwardly force them into a stupid dorky beam instead.
you should drink again. skimming your fingers against the smooth wood of the table, you reach for your can of beer. air greets your outstretched hand, pawing at nothing for a few seconds before finally curling against the cool metal.
the scent of rice and sweetness intermingles with your nose when you wrap your lips around the rim and take a long sip, emptying the rest of your can.
as the last droplets trickle past your lips, bubbles pop in your brain. the noises of the party sound a little more distant. you feel like giggling for no reason at all - the thrill of euphoria is dancing amongst you, twirling in your vessel.
the can slips out of your hand as you drop your flushed face into the crook of your arm. "you're soo smart, akaashi," you coo. "even at a party like this, you're busy thinking about observing people. i bet you don't go to parties often. i bet you'd rather be somewhere else half of the time. i bet you only come to parties if - "
you raise your head, finger drawing circles in the air to help stimulate your mind to think through the haze. " - if you get something out of it. or maybe obligation? or maybe you're just...bored?"
"yn?"
"mmh?" you hum, rubbing a hand over your burning cheeks.
"do you want to follow me to the kitchen?"
breath stops in you. your heartbeat spreads to your ears, a rhythm about to reach a crescendo. an invitation. not just any invitation - but one to bask in his presence privately.
you tug your head to face him, voice wavering and breathless. "what?"
his stare holds yours steadily. a strange light fills his eyes, sharpened like the relighting of an unused oil lamp. the gunmetal blue hues adorn a livelier shade, almost like a gleam, akin to light catching off the surface of a calm ocean.
"is that a yes?" he asks, tilting his head at you. it looks like an owl seeking permission. one of deadly attractiveness that if you were prey, would willingly accept the sweep of their talons to snatch you up into the air.
an absolute idiot would say no. terribly eager, and almost stupidly so, approval tumbles out from your lips.
moving his hands under the table, he pulls a small navy blue bag out from underneath the shade and into the light. you feel almost giddy at the predicament you are suddenly thrust into, still reeling in disbelief.
with deft fingers, he pulls the zip aside and opens the flap, revealing a camera tucked within the compartment.
ah.
the giddiness in your head dissipates.
akaashi cradles the camera into his hands. he flicks a few controls on it, peers through the viewfinder, before his gaze slides to yours. "it's the perfect time to take some shots for the photography competition. i just realised we're in a party, and we're drinking, and i brought my camera with me. you're not interested in staying to play the games, right?"
excitement is gutted out of you, replaced by an almost petty feeling that is surely unwise to entertain. well, what did you expect? of course he wouldn't ask you for a special heart to heart talk in the kitchen, where it's intimate and just the two of you. in akaashi's mind, you are only a business partner. you have no connection beyond that.
still, the idea set your spirits flying high, even if just for a moment. and having it being ripped out of your reach so cruelly - combined with your rippling emotions amplified by the amount of beer you have drank -
"i changed my mind."
an appalled expression weaves akaashi's eyebrows together. he halts in fiddling with the camera controls.
"...you want to stay for the party games?" he asks carefully, laced with suspicion, as if that's a conclusion he would never draw from the possible scenarios he could churn up.
you nod.
he stares at you blankly for a beat or two. then, ever so slowly, he lowers his camera into that darned navy blue bag. you should have known what was inside, you have seen it once, when he brought it to your first photoshoot.
"i don't recommend that. i reckon at the rate of beer cans bokuto and kuroo are drinking, they will take to making...rash decisions."
"what kind of rash decisions?"
"like..." akaashi trails off, still staring at you like your change of heart is an enigma he cannot figure out. "kissing pretty girls in their vicinity, like you."
again. he calls you pretty. it should not make your heart shudder and swoon, because you know why he says it. blunt as the edge of a dull knife, but doesn't mean it functions as well as it should.
akaashi keiji doesn't call you pretty because he is romantically interested in you. akaashi keiji calls you pretty because you are objectively attractive according to beauty standards cemented in society.
your expression sours slightly and you turn your head, jutting your lower lip out and crossing your arms. "maybe i want them to kiss me."
childish. you are being so childish. this is not how you should behave, but yet...you dig your fingers into the skin of your arms with a soft huff.
silence greets your ears, save for the loud thumping of your heart that stubbornly refuses to settle. it is too late for regrets to reach your head for the silly words you have uttered, your unrestrained feelings spilling out and coaxed forward by the tempting lull of liquor.
akaashi is officially left speechless by you. he is staring at you with incredulousness written all over his face, eyes widened a fraction.
then he exhales. a shadow falls over your lap as you frown down upon it, arms crossed tightly over your chest.
the warmth of his hand touches your head in a light pat, fingers ghosting against the root of your hairs.
"sure. when you're done, bring a few unopened cans of beer with you for the photoshoot. i'll be in the kitchen."
as fast as it had come, his touch had left, and so is he. blinking profusely in confusion, you watch akaashi stand from his seat cushion and heads out of the dorm room.
when the door closes behind him in a thud that knocks you out of the daze you were in - agitation pours through the weeping gates of your heart.
you whirl on kuroo immediately and grab his collar, ignoring his slight jolt of shock at your sudden motion.
"kiss me."
kuroo freezes up when your forehead presses against his, curls of your hair brushing against his flushed cheeks. "w-what?" he huffs out a breath of laughter, lips curving into a disbelieving grin.
"kiss me." your voice wobbles. your fingers tremble against their tight grip on his collar, loosening slightly. oh no, you're losing control of yourself. making countless foolish choices have always been your speciality unfortunately.
his eyes widen as tears begin to well in the rim of yours, turning watery. despite the wooziness of the alcohol, he softens, shaking his head as he pulls your hands away from his wrinkled collar and push them down onto your lap.
"he's not here to see it, red blood cell. there's no point in doing this to feel something if he isn't present."
you sniffle as his hand pats yours in gentle reassurance. "you're right." your head drops and falls away from his, looking to the side glumly. "that was stupid. sorry."
kuroo shakes his head, reaching out to rip a tissue from the box and pass it over to you. you dab it on your cheeks as he speaks. "nah, we're all good. don't apologise. attraction can't be controlled. give it time."
time is what you take, to dry your tears and calm your emotions. fukunaga offers you corn chips to which you reject again. bokuto and kenma have stopped their game, ultimately deciding that the whole thing is stupid and they're not doing it anymore, and are offering you the last few pieces of their sashimi.
after finishing the scraps of food left, they urge you to head over to where akaashi resides in the kitchen. with an arm full of cans of beer that you remember to take for the photoshoot, you creep out of their lighthearted conversation where bokuto and kuroo are starting to revert to their drunken states again and off to the kitchen.
hopefully you'll manage to survive this one without breaking down or causing another commotion like you did last time.
⋮ afterword
heyheyhey im back gang did you miss me...i know i disappeared for a long time BUT rest assured i did not forget about a4u so you're eating good today with a 7.1k written chapter
the next few chapters are going to be quite heavy with written stuff because i think writing best narrates the moment. still i don't want to make it so heavy for y'all so of course there will be sprinkles of smau elements here and there whenever possible
i have never been drunk before so forgive me if there was inaccurate descriptions of being drunk in this one. i tried my best to search online how it felt and best put it into words </3
comment if you want to be tagged on the masterlist (which can be found in the link at the top of the post). please check and adjust your personal settings if you're not tagged properly! if you would like to be removed from the taglist, feel free to dm me and i'll do so.
I love you so much oh my god the akaashi smau?? The alien stage references the dynamics ur humour oml hes so loser i love him
you just made my whole day luv THANK YOUUU MWAAA!!! i’m sooo glad you like the smau so far. i had my doubts whether my humour was too subjective but seeing someone find it funny and enjoy the dynamics between the characters is the BIGGEST compliment to me 💞💞
i believe in the whole ‘akaashi is calm and collected on the surface but inside he’s actually just an endearing loser’ like you have to be on a certain level of intelligence to understand his jokes EUGHH I LOVEEE HIM.
ALIEN STAGE NATION RISE 🔥🔥 vivimeng are out there breaking hearts with their beautiful creation but it haunts me everyday and i can’t escape from it. the narratives and characters are all so beautifully written. i’m so not ready for the final round i’m not ready for alien stage to end ever i will need to take a whole month off to recover…
CW .ᐟ › this is part 2 of shot three, a continuation of part 1. please navigate to part 1 above first before reading part 2!! nothing new to be added, check masterlist for more info! ignore chat timelines i can’t change those.
⋮ afterword
do y'all still play roblox because i will proudly state that i still do. with no shame. logged back into adopt me just a few days ago after four years and everything changed so much leaving me in a state of shock
i had zero robux and a dream so adopt me was my paradise because you could literally fake being rich there. (yes i catfished people back in the day) afterwards my sister helped me spam do quizzes to help you earn free robux so i managed to buy a few things for myself
yn's not as close to kenma as she is to kuroo because she doesn't see him around as much. they just mutually know of their existence and that's it
akaashi does not know about any of this in fact he even forgot about his own birthday
kuroo considered adding both yachi and asahi into the mix because they are akaashi's dormmates but they got too much in their schedule so they turned him down
comment if you want to be tagged on the masterlist (which can be found in the link at the top of the post). please check and adjust your personal settings if you're not tagged properly! if you would like to be removed from the taglist, feel free to dm me and i'll do so.
go to series masterlist go to part 2 of shot three
CW .ᐟ › this is part 1 of shot three, for part 2 please navigate above!! nothing new to be added, check masterlist for more info! ignore chat timelines i can’t change those.
navigate to part 2 linked above
⋮ afterword
akaashi actually had to throw some rocks into a nearby river in order to calm down from everything (coffee spills on his favourite shirt, almost losing his projects in the fire, bokuto and kuroo's stupid antics) in addition to yelling in a deserted area. he was trying so bad not to crash out by repeating that he's 19 and he's mature, calm and collected even when shit hits the fan
kenma tried to help put out the fire but bokuto and kuroo were moving around so much trying to extinguish the flames to death he got punched like three times and finally gave up. the last straw was bokuto elbowing him in the ribs by accident
yaku and fukunaga went out to the yakiniku place so they completely missed the evacuation and the fire over some good meat
yn always gets laughing cow cheese and milk whenever she breaks down to the point fukunaga and yaku already know her order by heart before she even asks for it
kuroo and yn speak only when kuroo's around yaku or fukunaga. she doesn't try to find him to talk though he would say hi whenever he sees her in the halls
comment if you want to be tagged on the masterlist (which can be found in the link at the top of the post). please check and adjust your personal settings if you're not tagged properly! if you would like to be removed from the taglist, feel free to dm me and i'll do so.
i realised i like to type in long paragraphs with zero punctuations ever only when completely necessary. and give everybody reading my messages a stroke SEE WHAT I MEAN
CW .ᐟ › nothing new to be added, check masterlist for more info!
⋮ afterword
i had to forgo my divider or else the 30 image limit would get my ahh again sorry guys 💔💔
the agilo posts were actually a real carnal need. i need agilo olio now. i crave it seven days a week every hour every minute every second. i'm the biggest agilo olio fan
guess who that 'highschool friend' akaashi is talking about is...(if you guessed kuroo you're right ding ding ding)
the real men's den are all forced to download life 360 by bokuto's initiative because he thought it would be fun to track where they are going and bring the gang closer together. kuroo joined because he has nothing to hide and loves spamming annoying notifications like 'love you!' 'need a ride?' 'call me!' to the rest. akaashi joined because he doesn't want to argue against the group and it would be helpful if one of them got lost (mainly bokuto). kenma joined very reluctantly and has his location turned off half the time so there's literally no point. but also he only reports to class then mostly heads straight for the dorm so it's nothing special to track him
bokuto and kuroo nearly set off the fire alarm for whatever reason even though they are just making a very sugary mocha latte. apparently bokuto started randomly roasting the marshmallows by the stove fire to make 's'mores' to add to the mocha latte but nearly toasted the whole wooden stick off so he dropped it on the floor. thankfully the situation got meditated in time because of kuroo's quick thinking
this post would have been a lot longer but i realised the amount of content i was stuffing and went 'holy shit!' so i got to dial it back
comment if you want to be tagged on the masterlist (which can be found in the link at the top of the post). please check and adjust your personal settings if you're not tagged properly to allow tags! if you would like to be removed from the taglist, feel free to dm me and i'll do so.
go to series masterlist back to don't meet your stalkers p1
CW .ᐟ › check p1, this is bc of the stupid tumblr image limit that makes me scream
⋮ afterword
sorry in advance for the separation of shot one...i got overly ambitious and had way too much fun that i surpassed the 30 images limit on tumblr. this feature needs to be revised so bad since i tend to dump a lot of content into my chapters
akaashi had to get bokuto to take down the petition before #freeakaashi started trending on their campus twitter. not everyone knew who akaashi was but because of bokuto's booming popularity decided to chip in for fun (or for pure chaos and drama). with akaashi's help, bokuto crafted a statement addressing the false alarm and posted it on his account, which thankfully mitigated the chaos.
yn has been through many part time jobs before but got fired / or quit on her own accord. one because she kept messing stuff up (she has the worst 'first day on the job' luck) or because she didn't like the job itself. this has been a running joke between yaku and fukunaga who tease her relentlessly for it
⌇taglist ⌗ .ᐟ
@shoyosluver @baylz @linaaeatsfamilies @nscuit
comment if you want to be tagged on the masterlist (which can be found in the link at the top of the post). please check and adjust your personal settings if you're not tagged properly! if you would like to be removed from the taglist, feel free to dm me and i'll do so.
go to series masterlist visit don't meet your stalkers p2
CW .ᐟ › nothing new to be added, check masterlist for more info!
WC .ᐟ › 2.4k, written in lowercase
preparation was almost complete.
the random classroom you had listed in the text exchange was empty when you walked in - perfect! despite the fact that the thought to check the scheduling of the classroom's usage slipped your brain, you got yourself saved from second hand embarrassment. the class got cancelled because the lecturer fell sick, and while you shouldn't be so happy over that, you were.
you knew you wouldn't be the only one harbouring such evil thoughts anyway. not when that lecturer was the least liked on campus. it was just you, an empty classroom, your 101 ways of how to start the confrontation, and your bag of useful tools.
all the potential weapons of self defence and potentially, intimidation, were all stored in your bag. your sharp as hell pencils you finally sharpened yesterday? check. your earpieces, backups for your constantly dying earbuds that could be turned into a strangulation device? check. a taser in case all else fails? check, too.
now all that was left is the procedure designed to corner akaashi when he came in.
off the top of your head, you knew what to do. the scene had been playing over a thousand times in your head. when the door swings open and you see his frame come in, your hands are going to lunge outwards. grab his collar. pin him to the closest wall you could find.
with that, you were an intimidation specialist. akaashi wouldn't be able to see that coming, since you had the upper hand. it was a guarantee that he would wet his pants, answers spilling out of his lips faster than the snap of your fingers.
the crucial factor for the silver lining on your grand plan to succeed, was for you to get the timing right. for the past ten minutes of crouching by the door at a blind spot in the darkness, you had been rehearsing the movement over and over. if your hands slipped - or your legs spasmed - or you reacted, even a minute later, everything could come crashing to the ground.
pushing off to your feet and grasping the air, plunging the invisible collar to the nearest surface - you heard footsteps travelling down the corridor. the first in a while.
a brief exhale left your throat. immediately, you scuttled back into your hiding spot at the door.
the echoing footsteps grew closer and closer. a shadow fell over the crack of light from under the closed door. your heart jumped involuntarily in anticipation as the doorknob twisted. the blinding light of the corridor spilled into the darkened classroom, along with the brief appearance of a silhouette stepping inside.
sparing not even a glance, you leapt to your feet, trap sprung. throwing yourself at him, your hands stretched out to the estimated spot of where you supposed his collar would be -
-and squeezed around air.
your eyes widened.
shit! your mind screamed as you tripped over your own feet, balance tilted from where they had been expecting to be grounded from where your hands were supposed to grip his collar. a slip of air hissed from your clenched teeth as your other hand came up to fist the air, searching for reprieve from falling headfirst right into akaashi's chest.
your trajectory was halted as his fingers curled around your outstretched wrist. where the ground had nearly been snatched out from under your feet, your balance was replaced again.
"watch where you're going. you okay?" akaashi asks, pulling you upright. one of his hands remained around your wrist, steadying you gently while the other was secured around your waist, a feather light touch.
your eyes snapped up from staring dumbly at your feet. a slight heat of shame from your failure to intimidate flooded your cheeks - how did you know this guy was going to be taller than you estimated? - faded the moment your gaze met his.
and shame bloomed into dread, heartbeat quickening in your chest. your eyes flitted all over the features of his face, which you could see somewhat clearly in the light filtering in from the opened door.
soft lips equivalent of an invitation to sin. dark hair that curls slightly at the ends, falling into his eyes at the slightest tilt of his face. the accursed half rim glasses that you always fall for perched on his nose, slightly askew. his gaze seems to bleed into yours, frighteningly intimate. it's as if his lashes can brush yours if you lean any closer.
...fuck, he just had to be a pretty boy.
you're doomed.
"yeah, all good," you manage to muster and step away quickly before he realises you're staring a little too long. the warmth of his hands slip from your wrist, loosening around your waist to return to his side. your eyes linger on his hands, noting the length of his slender fingers.
no, you need to focus. swallowing the lump in your throat, you force your eyes back to his, watching as he turns on the lights. now with the lights on, you can see him in better detail, whether for the better or the worse. when he turns back to face you inquisitively, you decide it's for the worse.
"you must be yn," akaashi speaks. you find yourself nodding, robbed of words.
his gaze softens into a tinge of guilt once you do. "i'm sorry about taking your pictures without consent. i know it's really disrespectful of me, especially since it feels like an intrusion of your privacy..."
what follows next is an apology you find yourself not paying attention to. you try to focus on his words, but your mind keeps wandering. the objectives of your confrontation comes gushing back into your head one by one, but they're coming undone. you no longer remember the threats you were going to use to get him to spill his dirty secrets.
something in your mind seems to have short circuited from the moment you stared into his eyes. all you can focus on is the way his lips move to form the words he's saying. you try to keep your eyes on his when he speaks, but god, it's nearly impossible. you blame it on the stupidly good looking glasses, the way it frames his eyes and makes him a thousand times more attractive.
your hand twitches. you want to box him for foiling your confrontational plans. he's your photographing you without consent - although devoid of malicious reasons, judging off the scraps of what he's saying - which is still outrageous! but at the same time, what's even more outrageous is how much you want to grab his face and kiss him senseless, even if you've only known him for a couple minutes.
thankfully, you have enough self control to refrain from doing both. you choose the right choice, tearing your flickering gaze from his darned lips to focus on his words.
"...i'll stop taking pictures of you if you want me to. i'll find another human subject. the reason why i started taking photos of you is because you have a perfectly symmetrical face and aesthetically pleasing features..."
wait a second. did he just call you pretty?
any futile attempts to tune in and out of the conversation snaps at the last line. suddenly, you're no longer listening.
instead, a smile is blooming across your lips. akaashi's eyes widen subtly as you lean in abruptly.
"so you think i'm pretty?"
akaashi stares at you in silence for a moment. then slowly, he nods. "yes."
your smile widens. your urge to grab him by the cheeks and kiss him grows bigger by the second, as indecent as it is. shit, you want him, you want him bad. you're not sure how much longer you can hold that thought in. it's almost pathetic, but you've always been a sucker for pretty faces.
"so you like me." you conclude.
there's no way someone could compliment you with such phrases like "perfectly symmetrical face", "aesthetically pleasing features", takes photos of you as their human subject, and have no romantic feelings for you, right-
"no."
it's as if you've been punched in the gut. "i'm sorry?" you blink in disbelief.
akaashi's expression hardly shifts as he repeats his words. "no. i'm not into you romantically."
the words twist in your gut like a knife. you gawk at him for a second, dumbfounded at how this is turning out. the situation shifts, like a puzzle gone wrong.
"that doesn't make sense," you blurt out before you can help it, your mind scrambling to search for the logic in his words. "you just said i'm pretty."
"yes."
"you use me as a human subject for your photography."
"yes."
your eyebrows furrow at his replies. "but you don't like me?" you point out.
"also yes." he answers mercilessly without much hesitation. you want to utter a curse at how little emotion seems to befall him when saying those words, as if they mean nothing to him. you're beginning to realise with a start that they might actually do.
the truth physically pains you to say aloud, but you force it out. "so you're saying all that because it's factually accurate to you, and you take photos of me just because i'm an interesting human subject, not because of romantic attraction."
akaashi nods curtly. finally, he adjusts his glasses on his nose. that's hot, your mind betrays you to whisper to your ire.
irritation simmers within you. one, at how easily you fall for someone. two, at how little you seem to care that he isn't romantically interested in you. a part of your brain begs the chase. it aches to know he doesn't see you in that light, but it stirs a competitiveness in your heart - you've been known to pine, much to the exasperated amusement of your friends. though it comes rarely, once you fall, you fall hard.
recognising that this is one of those similar situations isn't difficult. the sadness of your rejection is already beginning to ebb away, leaving you as fast as it had come.
"damn, you're cold." you laugh lightly in amusement, shaking your head.
akaashi hums apologetically, eyes still fixed on yours. he's awfully polite, or he just has a staring problem. "i'm sorry if that wasn't what you wanted to hear."
a snort escapes your lips and you wave a hand in the air. "no, it's fine. i wouldn't want you to lie to me."
akaashi perks up at that slightly. "speaking of," he starts, pulling out his phone from his pocket. your eyes linger on the veins streaking down his hands for longer than you should before returning to his face. "if you don't mind, i've got a suggestion for you. if you're okay with me photographing you, would you want to become my model?"
your jaw drops open. "y-your model?" you stutter out to your own embarrassment, though you don't have time to reel in horror at that when he continues with a nod.
"yeah. there's this photography competition i entered, which is what kickstarted the initiative to open up an instagram account to gain visibility for my photos." as he speaks, his fingers tap on the screen, pulling up a poster.
you skim through the text roughly on the poster when he turns his screen to you. a bemused smile lifts the ends of your lips catching sight of the reward highlighted on the poster. lifting your head, you gesture to it. "you're entering for the prize money, i presume? a thousand dollars is no little sum, even i'd be tempted."
his expression turns slightly sheepish at that. akaashi looks away for a moment, chuckling. "that's one of the reasons, if i were to be frank. but it's also to get increased opportunities for my internship. there's a lot of industry professionals in photojournalism who will be overseeing the competition."
he retracts his phone to his pocket. a hint of seriousness crosses his features when he looks back at you. "which is why i'd really appreciate it if you could help me out in this. i'll pay you, of course. any amount you'd like."
it almost doesn't feel like a question. you can sense it in his words - his eyes, especially. a subtle hint of desperation flickers in them, but it's gone when you blink, like the trick of an eye.
akaashi clears his throat, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "i mean, i would still understand if you decide not to take the offer. after all, i did violate your privacy-"
"i'll take it." you reply quickly, cutting him off.
he pauses in surprise. "are you sure?" akaashi asks carefully, despite the hope flaring up in his voice. "i don't want to force you into anything."
"yeah, i'm sure." you confirm again, more firmly this time. "i'll become your model."
the littlest of smiles pitch an edge of his lips upwards. “thank you.” he says softly, before drawing his phone out again from his pocket, this time to hand it out to you. "can i have your number, so we'll be able to keep in contact?"
“sure, of course.” you answer, taking over his phone into your palms. your fingers fly across his keypad to add your own number into his contact list. once you're done, you hand it back to him, ignoring how light your head feels at the thought that you're exchanging numbers with one another. for business purposes, you have to remind yourself.
akaashi glances at it, before nodding. “thanks again. i'll text you to make arrangements. how much would you want me to pay you?” he asks, keeping his phone away.
realistically speaking, your ideal wage wouldn't be lower than $1000, albeit a little too ambitious. however, you're happy to make a compromise for more of his company.
“$30 is fine.”
akaashi raises an eyebrow doubtfully at the stated price. “$30? are you sure?”
you almost laugh at the questioning tone of his voice, as if wondering if paying you such a low amount was ethical. “yes, $30. we're still students, it's not good for me to ask for so much from you.” you insist.
akaashi hesitates, looking ready to protest right then and there. he drops it, hearing the persistent note of your voice. "alright then." he resigns. "but anytime if you want a raise, please request for it. i wouldn't want to undercharge you."
you catch his gaze again, behind that stupidly good looking pair of glasses with its rim catching the light, illuminating his eyes in the most terribly beautiful ways possible.
"i'll let you know when that happens." you respond.
though your presence would be more than enough to make up for it, is the words that remain unsaid, sitting on your tongue.
⋮ afterword
akaashi was absolutely rambling while yn was spacing out. her silence was making him nervous and he just decided to spill out the ten paragraph apology he had crafted along the way without waiting for her to reply
yn made it up to yaku by cleaning out her room (though it'll get messy again in a few weeks) and bleached his shirt for him. though the shirt did come out two shades whiter than it originally was
yn is a terrible victim of zero spatial awareness. she's in her head all the time and tends to walk right into poles or incoming cars if not for yaku or fukunaga yanking her out of the way. it's a miracle she's still alive
bokuto was about to start a gofundme for akaashi and title it 'free akaashi'
hehehe did you catch the alien stage references. if any of you know what i'm talking about PLS HMU i need alien stage moots
⌇taglist ⌗ .ᐟ
@shoyosluver @baylz @linaaeatsfamilies @nscuit
comment if you want to be tagged on the masterlist (which can be found in the link at the top of the post). please check and adjust your personal settings if you're not tagged properly! if you would like to be removed from the taglist, feel free to dm me and i'll do so.
idea inspired by @tarovrispy | divider credits to @cafekitsune
MAIN MASTERLIST
SYPNOSIS ;
it may be another case of jumping to conclusions…or you may actually have a stalker. when you get informed by your friends that your image is being drawn as inspiration for photos published on an internet blog known as “keiji’s hive”, a confrontation is staged immediately - orchestrated by your own initiative. your friends’ aren’t as approving of your impulsive whims, but you managed to meet up with your ‘stalker’ safe and sound. except it isn’t quite what you’d expect. turns out, he’s not your stalker, nor is he your secret admirer. and he’s got quite an interesting preposition to make in order to keep his blog running…
CONTENT WARNINGS ;
strangers to friends to lovers, one sided pining, muse and photographer, my first smau (gulp pls don’t cancel me), slight ooc (i write by my own headcanons), slight profanity, kys/kms jokes, set in college, brainrot humour involved, idiots in love, warnings will be updated as smau progresses, it’s better to check individual chapters for warnings, there will be written parts
STATUS ;
ongoing. updates will be random at my own free time when i can write
TAGLIST ;
i’m not sure if i should start one, comment if you want to be tagged! if requests get a bit much, i’ll create a form to fill out
MEET THE CAST!
tokyo helpline engage with caution the real men's den
CHAPTER OUTLINE
✐ / signifies written content
shot one: don't meet your stalkers p1 ✐ | p2
shot two: don't spill your coffee
shot three: don't forget your high school friends p1 | p2
shot four: don't let your friends plan your birthday ✐
shot five: don't parry with the drunk ✐
shot six: don't be nice to me ✐
⋆ bokuto majors in sports science. he enrolled into the course because he just saw 'sports', thought of volleyball, read the first few lines of the course information 'help athletes improve strength, power and endurance' and just clicked on the enrol button right away. was devastated when he found out that it wasn't just about training to gain muscles but also figuring out the scientific principles behind athletic performance with psychology, biomechanics, physiology, nutrition. give him some space, he's barely keeping up with his classes. kuroo and akaashi help tutor him sometimes.
⋆ huge fan of one piece and his favourite character is (you guessed it) monkey d luffy. when he first watched the franchise he pointed to the screen and excitedly yelled "i'm HIM!!" "he's just like me FR!!!" and luffy became his number one favourite character since. bonus that they both eat a lot.
⋆ kuroo majors in business in marketing. blessed with the gift of the gab, he loves the process of persuading people into convictions and decisions. marketing is also a very messy place and the drama is intense...which fuels his instinct for chaos. even if it isn't permitted, he's curious to know how many tricks he can think of to bypass business ethics.
⋆ i stick by my certified #nerdkuroo agenda. he loves sprouting random facts out of nowhere if he can find a way to link them into the conversation. also regularly goes deep into rabbit holes in researching topics that he randomly thinks about while lying in bed at 3am. insists on educating the group on it afterwards, though the only one actually listening AND understanding is akaashi.
⋆ listens to jeanz religiously and his bias is haerin.
⋆ kenma majors in design for game design and development. spends most of his time in his room, hunched over in his gaming chair with the nastiest shrimp spinal posture ever seen. only comes out for meal breaks - which are just milo packets if nobody's monitoring him, four to five a day. says that the act of chewing or moving his molars is a pain.
⋆ his favourite game is minecraft (NO I DON'T CARE IF IT IS OUTDATED MINECRAFT IS GOATED). puts at least a thousand mods into his computer kuroo and bokuto both bet on the day it's going to explode. builds the craziest worlds you've ever seen. once kuroo and bokuto joined him in one of his worlds. kuroo planted a tnt as a joke on one of kenma's castles, bokuto accidentally lit up with flint and steel, and the whole three weeks kenma spent on building it went down in flames. needless to say, they are both banned from coming near his creations now.
NOTES
⋆ the four of them met in high school during summer training camp and then continued to get in touch after (mostly because of kuroo and bokuto). even though akaashi isn't staying in the same dorm room as them (much to kenma's dejection), kuroo and bokuto still plan as many hangouts for the four of them to spend time together. the hangouts consist mostly of bokuto's impulsive ideas and kuroo's improvisation skills.
⋆ the karaoke session ended pretty badly because bokuto ended up breaking the sound barrier of the microphone. kuroo had to negotiate the terms when the discipline committee came to their room after multiple filed complaints about the noise in a certain dormitory block, and managed to stop them from taking their karaoke machine away.
⋆ kenma tried to sneak it back to the discipline committee after but kuroo caught him red handed.
⋆ majors in photojournalism. got into the course because he loves writing and photography and photojournalism is literally the baby of that. got into photography when he was a child experimenting with his mother's phone camera and realised he really liked looking at the world through a lens and capturing the smallest things. had an ao3 account at some point but is no longer active because he couldn't keep up with writing and his other commitments.
⋆ he thought he was pretty organised, but he tends to get hyperfixated on a project and forget about everything else and needs a reality check. severely hanging on to his sanity with the help of coffee. his minimum is three cups a day which is becoming an addiction but it's the only thing keeping him afloat in college. the best way to describe him would be organised chaos. everything is in order, but if you squint closely, you can see the tiny slips through the slight crookedness of his glasses on his nose or the rumpled edge of a collar.
⋆ listens to chill r&b (kuiper, keshi, bixby). loves watching and reading charlie brown, it's his comfort piece of fiction. his favourite character is schroeder. charlie brown and snoopy is a close second.
⋆ posts his photos on an instagram account called @/keijishive that he manages to update from time to time.
ABOUT THE REST OF THE GANG
⋆ yachi is a design major in graphic design. she loves creating posters of her favourite films and franchises. mostly uses adobe photoshop for most of her designs. tried taking up video editing once but almost cried with the amount of tools she has to know how to use. ended up creating a good ten second scrap but decided never to touch video editing again because it took her three hours to get things figured out.
⋆ LOVES toilet bound hanako kun and you cannot tell me otherwise. loves everything about it, the pretty artstyle, the characters, the ships, the lore, the storyline and plot. watching majority of the talented tbhk edits is the reason why she wanted to pick up video editing in the first place. her favourite character is nene yashiro or kou minamoto.
⋆ fan of all cute things like mofusand and chikawa. hordes stuffed toys like crazy and has at least a whole population living on her bed. washes them all once a month and clogs up the washing machine, and the dorm's laundry has to be halted for a day. due to the sheer size, she has to go to the laundromat on their campus. asahi can't come into her room because he has a sensitive nose. he learnt his lesson after having an uncontrollable sneezing fit that lasted for five minutes until akaashi got him a glass of hot water.
⋆ asahi is a design major in fashion design. partly because he got frustrated that he can't find clothing in his size easily, and the other part is because of his sensitive nose (so some fabrics tend to be very overwhelming for him). wants to create sustainable and user friendly designs for people like himself.
⋆ has a monstrous SNEEZE (yes this is important) and yachi jumps everytime she hears it
⋆ loves studio ghibli films because they are his comfort place (the whole friend group loves ghibli actually). his favourite films are pom poko and kiki's delivery service.
NOTES
⋆ the three of them were assigned to be dorm mates together in the first year and bonded over their shared anxieties and interests. since all three value organisation but can end up doing too much for one another, they collectively agreed on having a 'cleanup roster' system to delegate tasks efficiently. it also acts as a good reminder because sometimes too many thoughts are being thunk in their heads.
⋆ they tend to get overwhelmed with their own responsibilities and can get into slumps quite often, so they do have sticky notes stuck around the dorm with various relaxation activities to help one another calm down and take a breather (this was proposed by yachi, who comes up with most of the encouraging initiatives for the friend group).
⋆ college major in investigative journalism. she wanted to do it of her own accord but forgets how messy and unorganised she can be. this leads to her struggling to cope with impromptu surprise interviews and on the spot articles (but she still pulls through with the help of hojicha whipped cream latte because she's very adaptable and is a girlboss)
⋆ interested in cases of crime and corruption which is actually what got her into investigative journalism in the first place. she's the type to debate these affairs over dinner and want to branch out to those deep discussions (even if yaku & fukunaga aren't the best people to talk about these kinda things to, they still entertain her because they don't want her talking to herself and going mad, which she is fully capable of doing)
⋆ grew up in a rather well off family but doesn't like to flaunt it. in fact she wants to be independent and not reliant on her parents. her tendencies to be a klutz, however, negate her path of self proclaimed independence
⋆ loves the weirdest food combinations and tries to actively introduce them to yaku and fukunaga's palette. fukunaga is chill with it but yaku gets heavily exasperated everytime she tries to shove another one of what he calls 'an abomination to culinary arts' in his face.
ABOUT THE REST OF THE GANG
⋆ they came to know yn as they attended the same high school, nekoma high. (i know fukunaga and yaku aren't in the same year but SCREW IT they are now.) they were from the same class and even though they thought they would split up for college, coincidentally entered the same one and become dorm mates. yn definitely spied on their college applications and went to the same one because she's tired of having to keep mixing around with new people.
⋆ yaku is the mom of the friend group, though he makes pretty bad decisions himself as well. he regulates yn's bad habits (and sometimes enables them, depending on the situation). he regularly beefs with yn because she tends to be on the impulsive side, although he would probably do the same when put into her shoes. he's the one who sets the rules of the dorm and brings coordination where it is nonexistent.
⋆ majors in business for human resources. he honestly just wanted the workplace tea, until he found out he would have to work under a company's internal rules and processes. still, there's the element of handling other people's problems, even if dulled. he also just wants to piss off some people.
⋆ fukunaga is the chill guy that just floats around the friend group doing his own thing. he doesn't try to take sides on the beefs between yn and yaku, sometimes even (unintentionally?) fuelling the chaos. while chill, he hops on board with yn's stupid jokes and shenanigans a lot like her partner in crime. even if he runs away when the limelight of judgement is shone onto them.
⋆ majors in hospitality and culinary arts. really likes corn and is very adventurous when it comes to food, which is why he doesn't mind yn's (sometimes) morbid creations. most of the time he thinks they're goated though. he might even include them in his own culinary creations, to which makes yn super happy (if she's given the credit).
NOTES
⋆ yaku and yn constantly raid the fridge or drawers for midnight snacks but they both try to hide it from each other and fail to do so. they mostly blame one another for triggering the hunger cells although they brought most of it upon themselves.
⋆ together as a trio they killed the rat with a bathroom slipper with the power of friendship and magic (yaku's, much to his own disgust). yn was the one who dealt the killing blow with her eyes closed and she had to watch a bunch of memes to forget the image of the rat seared into her head.
⋆ fukunaga got his picture of the big ahh rat. he posted it on his twitter afterwards on the before and aftermath of what happened to the rat. yes, he posted the dead body. he might have gotten censored by twitter and reported by yn for causing her to relieve her trauma (although she was the one harbouring murderous thoughts about rats entering their dorm).
