|24| Two idiots. One braincell. Way too much time on our hands. Please send help. Welcome to the fic blog of SleepDeprivedIdiot and SaltedEgg! Asks and submissions open for business!
Heyy I really love your Tumblr and was kinda wondering what happened to your story "Before you go" (the Kuroo x reader) because that was really good and it's one of my faves. No pressure, I understand these times are busy and we can't really get things done on time. Season's greetings btw!
Hey, thanks for leaving a message. Lots of things ended up happening all at once in my personal life and I actually had to stop writing for a bit because of it. When I finally got to start writing again, I just wanted to start fresh and forget about the whole past year. So, I decided to re-work all of Before you Go into another, bigger/more expansive fic and post it on Ao3 if you still want to read it.
You can find it here
Sorry for leaving you hanging, and I hope you can still read/enjoy the story despite how long it’s been.
There's nothing quite like senior year of high school. The excitement of graduation, the suspense of college applications, and the overwhelming pressure to make the most out of the little time left with friends and family before moving onto the next chapter of life. It's a whirlwind of fun, adventure, tears, heartache, and love that resonates in the heart for years and years to come. But what else can be expected for a group of kids navigating their way through this last chapter of their senior yearbook?
A/N: hey, y’all. So I decided to re-work all of Before you Go just cuz I felt like it lol. The new title is “Senior Yearbook” and it’s written with an OC rather than being a “you” fic. I’m also going to post all of it on Ao3 because it’s easier to organize my fics and chapters that way. My reasons for re-working it are complicated, but I hope if you liked Before you Go you’ll check out the re-work and still enjoy the story.
Note: trying out an experimental chapter of Before you Go written from Bokuto’s POV. I’m thinking that my next series after Before you Go will be the same story but told from Bokuto’s POV. Still thinking about it, though.
Author: SleepDeprivedIdiot
MasterList
SleepDeprivedIdiot MasterList
A/N: happens somewhere between chapter 4 and chapter 5
Interlude Chapter: Hey stupid, I love you
Hey, are you still awake? -- Akaashi.
Yep -- Bokuto.
Bokuto squinted hard as the harsh light from his phone lit up his otherwise pitch black room. The screen read 2:11am. Half of his face was buried into his pillow, and his fuzzy, grey blanket wrapped around his whole body from the tops of his shoulders to well past his feet. The quiet hum of the heater coupled with the soft ticks from his bedroom clock played like a lullaby to the half-asleep volleyball player.
But just as Bokuto’s eye drooped shut, his phone began to buzz in his hand. He snapped his head up from the pillow and quickly flipped onto his back before answering the call from Akaashi and pressing the phone against his ear.
“Hey,” Bokuto whispered in a hoarse voice. He cleared his throat loudly and swallowed thickly before repeating in a more steady and awake sounding tone, “Hey.”
“Hi,” Akaashi’s soft voice sounded on the other end of the line. “Were you sleeping?”
“Yeah, but don’t worry about it. I fell asleep doing math, so your call saved me a day’s worth of detention,” Bokuto easily replied, glancing to his desk where, in the darkness, he could barely make out the outlines of his math workbooks that he had finished working in over three hours ago.
“Oh, I’m glad then,” Akaashi responded in a quiet but pleased tone. “Are you almost done?”
“I’d say about 75%,” Bokuto started, stifling a huge yawn behind his fist. “Why? What’s up?”
“Just…” A pause. “The usual I guess.”
“Ah,” Bokuto teased with a small smile. “A certain little insomniac having trouble sleeping?”
“Maybe,” Akaashi quietly scoffed over the phone. Bokuto smirked as he could all but see a furiously blushing Akaashi standing in front of him. Not that Bokuto wasn’t also furiously blushing himself.
“Well then,” Bokuto said, stretching his arm high above him before settling it behind his head. “What’ll it be for tonight? I’ve got the Bokuto special, the Akaashi deluxe, the --”
“Oh god, please stop,” Akaashi laughed, making Bokuto laugh as well.
“Are you sure? Because I do have other combos all ready like the Boku-Y/N combo platter.”
“Ah, I see,” Akaashi chuckled. “And what does that one entail?”
“Definitely not an air horn and a loudspeaker.”
“Lord, do I even want to know how you and Y/n-san would use those particular items?”
“Probably not,” Bokuto confessed with a laugh. “But wanna hear some fun gossip about her?”
“Oh, uhm. Sure?”
“Okay, so,” Bokuto started, shifting onto his side so that his phone laid flat on the side of his face. “Do you remember when Kuroo asked her to the amusement park last week?”
“Yeah.”
“Yeah, so, apparently, he “forgot” to mention that he was setting her up on a blind, double date with some dude in his class.”
“Wait really? Why?”
“Because the dude from his class said that he would introduce Kuroo to this cute girl if Kuroo would get y/n to go on a date with him. But, the problem was that y/n had already met the kid from Kuroo’s class earlier that week and didn’t like him, and Kuroo knew she was gonna say no. So his “brilliant” idea was to set y/n up on a blind date and not tell her about it until the start of the date!”
Bokuto let out a loud, bellowing laugh before, suddenly, he nearly jumped out of his skin as a series of sharp and piercing barks echoed throughout his house. He sat up straight and threw his blanket off of him as he quickly spluttered out “WaitOneSec” before running out of his room. Moments later, he returned with a hyperactive ball of white fuzz that struggled in vain against Bokuto’s strong embrace.
Bokuto quietly closed his bedroom door while simultaneously putting the sparky pup onto the ground. The pup barked once more, earning a harsh “shhh” from Bokuto, before taking off towards Bokuto’s bed and running head first into a giant, green plush sitting on the floor just next to the bed.
“Riceball,” Bokuto quietly chided with a sigh, propping the plush back up. Bokuto plopped down onto his bed and picked up Riceball, holding the pup at eye level until the two were staring directly at each other. “How are you so stupid but so cute?”
As if in response, Riceball growled and yapped once more, making Bokuto scowl and place the pup onto the bed. Giving a grand sigh, Bokuto picked up his phone that he had thrown haphazardly onto his pillow.
“Hey, sorry about that. I woke Riceball and had to get him into my room before he woke up my parents,” Bokuto said, casting Riceball a glare as the dog vigorously attempted to dig a hole into Bokuto’s bed.
“It’s okay,” Akaashi chuckled over the phone.
“Anyways, as I was saying. Y/n was forced to go on a double date and nearly gave the poor guy a heart attack by having him ride one. Now, she’s out to get Kuroo for using her as a bargaining chip to help him get with this other girl.”
“So, is y/n-san mad that Kuroo-san’s date went well?”
“No,” Bokuto groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I wish she was. It’d be so much easier to get those two hardheads together if she felt even the littlest bit jealous of that other girl. But she’s all like “meh, I don’t really care, he can date whoever he wants”.”
“Right,” Akaashi slowly started through the phone.
Bokuto quirked an eyebrow at the strange note in Akaashi’s tone. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong. I was just wondering if maybe y/n-san doesn’t actually like Kuroo-san like that?”
“Nah, she does, trust me,” Bokuto re-assured, swinging his legs onto his bed and curling his body around Riceball who had claimed the entire center of the bed for himself. “She’s been my best friend since before we could both walk. I swear I know her better than she knows herself.”
“You really think that?”
“Oh yeah. Big time,” Bokuto chuckled, snuggling in tighter around Riceball. “According to our parents, we’ve been like two peas in a pod since day one. Like, this one time when we were in first grade, we both broke out of class together and walked home. A couple hours later, the school ended up calling our parents and the police, and there was this whole fiasco until my mom finally came home and found me and y/n making a mess in the kitchen.”
“I-- no. You can’t be serious?” Akaashi’s disbelief translated crystal clear over the phone, making Bokuto laugh.
“Deadly. It was so bad. The kindergarten almost expelled the both of us because of it. My dad had to go down to the school board and practically beg them to give us a second chance.”
“I never realized how close you and y/n-san were.”
“Yeah,” Bokuto laughed, ruffling Riceball’s ears. “Actually, when we were growing up, people used to think we were twins because we were always doing stuff together, especially since we’re neighbors and our families are close. We thought it was funny at first, but when we got to middle school people started to think we were dating so it just got weird and gross.”
A visible shudder wracked Bokuto’s body as he let out a disgusted “ick” into the phone. Akaashi’s soft laughter resounded in Bokuto’s ear, making Bokuto smile brightly to himself.
“So, you don’t like when people think you two are dating?”
“What?” Bokuto asked, taken aback by the question. “No way. Sure, y/n’s awesome and pretty and stuff. But she’s not exactly my… type.”
“You have a “type”?” Akaashi teased over the phone, making Bokuto scowl while a brilliant red bloomed over his features.
“You don’t?” Bokuto shot back, only earning laughter from Akaashi.
“I never said that.”
“What’s your type then?” Bokuto asked, feeling his heart skip a beat in the process.
“What’s your type?”
“Oh god, stop,” Bokuto laughed, shifting slightly around Riceball. “As an 18 year old guy, I absolutely refuse to play this game.”
“That’s fair,” Akaashi chuckled over the phone. Bokuto smiled brightly to himself, blowing gently on Riceball’s nose and startling the sleeping dog awake.
“So,” Bokuto started, expertly maneuvering himself underneath his covers without pushing Riceball off the bed. “Now that I’m fully awake, want to listen to me rant about how badly Looper fucked up time travel theory?”
“What’s Looper?”
“A movie with Joseph Gordon-Levitt. We should watch it sometime, it’s an…. experience,” Bokuto laughed.
“Sounds fun,” Akaashi responded. Bokuto heard the soft rustle of bedsheets come through the phone. A moment later, Akaashi spoke again. “Okay, ready.”
“Alright,” Bokuto started, taking a deep breath and pursing his lips. “So, the basic premise of the movie is that there are these contract killers in the present day called loopers who are supposed to kill people sent back to the past from the future by the mafia. Does that make sense?”
“Yes?” Akaashi slowly responded over the phone.
“Okay so. The movie starts off with the singular timeline theory that says the past, present, and future all exist on one spatial plane in a singular line. It’s where the butterfly effect comes into play. You change one thing in the past and the whole future is altered. Simple enough, right?”
“Right.”
“Right. But then, they start to mix in random elements of the multiverse theory where time exists on multiple planes of existence. So, instead of the butterfly effect, you have this theory that says that for every decision that you don’t make, there is a universe that exists where you did make that decision. And that universe is different from the present universe you are living in.”
“Okay,” came Akaashi’s quiet response. Bokuto smiled softly to himself as he imagined Akaashi’s eyes drooping shut after just a few minutes of Bokuto’s inane rant.
“So, my problem with the movie is that it starts of by explaining time travel using the singular timeline theory, but then, half-way through the movie, they have this alternate universe scenario, and instead of trying to explain it, they just brush it off by saying “don’t try to think about it too hard, it’s too complicated”. Like, that’s total bullshit. If you set up rules for your fictional universe, you can’t just break them for no good reason. You have to have some kind of explanation or else your whole world just collapses and the viewer or reader gets totally pulled out of the story.”
Bokuto paused and listened carefully into his phone. After a few moments of silence, Bokuto smiled once more and settled into his bedsheets.
“And the worst part is,” Bokuto started again in a slow and soft whisper. “At the end of the movie, they totally combined the singular timeline theory and the multiverse theory into one, which was just a complete mess that made no sense whatsoever.”
Bokuto continued to talk in a low and quiet voice until, eventually, his words became slurred and nearly incomprehensible. He wasn’t quite sure what time he actually fell asleep, but he was sure to give the comatose Akaashi a “goodnight, sweet dreams'' before finally hanging up and turning in for the rest of the night himself.
________
“Dude, it’s a penguin,” you insisted, jabbing the giant, green plush pressed tightly against Bokuto’s chest.
“Owl,” Bokuto shot back with a scowl, shrugging his shoulder to re-adjust the gym bag slung over his shoulder.
“Penguin.”
“Owl.”
“Penguin!”
“Owl!”
“Bokuto, oh my god.”
“Y/n, oh my god,” Bokuto mockingly repeated while making a face at you. You scoffed and rammed Bokuto’s shoulder with your own, successfully throwing the taller boy off balance and making him drop the plush. “Y/n!”
“Shit shit, sorry!” you quickly yelped, snatching the plush off the ground in an instant and turning it over in your hands. “I don’t think there’s anything on it.”
“Are you sure?” Bokuto asked, taking the plush and examining it himself. He squinted his eyes and brought the plush so close to his face that his nose brushed against the fuzzy material.
“Pretty sure,” you commented, also staring intently at the plush.
“Okay,” Bokuto slowly responded, bringing the plush down and bouncing it once in his hand before pressing it against his chest again.
“Sorry,” you apologized once more as the two of you started walking towards school, grinning sheepishly at Bokuto. Bokuto squinted his eyes at you and pursed his lips.
“Admit it’s an owl, and I’ll forgive you.”
“Guess you’re never forgiving me then.”
“Stay unforgiven then.”
“Fine.”
“Fine.”
Bokuto and you both started to laugh, pushing each other playfully, but being careful not to knock the plush onto the ground again. A few minutes later, the gates to the school came into view just on the horizon, and you turned to Bokuto.
“So, what’re you gonna say when you give it to him?”
Bokuto hummed and looked up to the sky. “Not sure yet. I’m debating between something cool and suave or something stupid and cute.”
“You could compromise and do something cool and stupid,” you chuckled.
“Oh, you’re right,” Bokuto agreed with a bright smile. “I’ll do that. Something cool to be serious, but also something stupid to be funny and not so serious.”
“A perfect balance,” you laughed. “When’re you gonna give it to him?”
“I was thinking after school right before practice.”
“Sounds good,” you replied with a smile. Then, you furrowed your eyebrows. “Wait, where are you going to keep it until then? Unless you plan on carrying a huge, stuffed penguin around with you all day.”
“Owl. And I was kinda hoping you would keep it in your locker until after school?” Bokuto asked with a sheepish smile. You scoffed and rolled your eyes.
“Of course you were.”
“Please?”
You narrowed your eyes at Bokuto, and Bokuto clapped his hands in front of his face in a pleading motion. The sight of the 6 foot tall wing spiker clutching a green owl/penguin plush while begging a barely 5 foot 2 inch libero was enough to make anyone laugh. But you, instead, gasped and ripped the plush out of Bokuto’s arms.
“Dude--”
“Hey, Akaashi,” you immediately interrupted Bokuto, squeezing the plush against your chest and grinning widely at the approaching, sleepy setter.
“Akaashi, hi,” Bokuto sputtered as he spun around and stepped slightly in front of you in a desperate attempt to hide the plush from Akaashi’s eyes.
“Goodmorning,” Akaashi groggily replied, quirking an eyebrow at the flustered duo. Akaashi paused just a moment before pointing to the plush. “What’s that?”
“Oh, just, uhm,” Bokuto stammered, glancing awkwardly between Akaashi and you. “I got it… for... her…?”
“You did?” Akaashi asked. Bokuto turned to him, eyes wide and mouth slightly agape.
“Yeah, for Kuroo,” you added, pushing Bokuto to the side and smiling at Akaashi. “I was going to use it in my next prank on him for setting me up on a surprise, blind date.”
“Right,” Akaashi slowly responded. His eyes seemed a bit unfocused and face blank, and Bokuto smiled softly to himself when he noticed how the back of Akaashi’s hair stuck up in odd places.
“Yeah,” you said, flashing Akaashi a smile and turning to Bokuto. “I should get going, see you at lunch.”
“Kay, have a good practice,” Bokuto replied, holding out a fist. You smiled and bumped your fist against his before jogging off towards the girl’s locker room.
“Bokuto-san?” Bokuto turned to Akaashi and quirked an eyebrow.
“What’s up?”
“I-- uhm…,” Akaashi started, glancing away twice while biting his bottom lip. Bokuto furrowed his eyebrows and pursed his lips.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” Akaashi finally said, looking at Bokuto and smiling softly. “Just, thanks for talking last night.”
“Any time,” Bokuto replied with a smile, silently cheering when a light pink dusted Akaashi’s cheeks and nose. “Did you sleep well?”
“I did,” Akaashi responded with a gentle smile. “Did you finish your homework?”
“Yep!” Bokuto chirped, starting to walk through the school gate and towards the boy’s locker room. Akaashi followed closely next to Bokuto, gazing fondly upon the taller boy. “So, I realized during my rant that none of it probably made sense out of context.”
“Kind of,” Akaashi chuckled. “But it’s okay.”
“No, no,” Bokuto firmly rejected. “It’s important to me that you understand just how badly they messed up time travel. Wanna get together this weekend at my place and watch it? I’ll provide snacks and refreshments.”
“Oh,” Akaashi started, eyes wide and lips parted slightly. Then, a small smile grew on his lips. “Okay. I’d like that.”
“Good,” Bokuto replied with a determined nod. The two walked in silence for a few moments, Bokuto smiling to himself and Akaashi staring at the ground.
“Will y/n-san be there too?” Akaashi quietly asked, glancing away from Bokuto.
“I wasn’t planning on inviting her,” Bokuto replied, furrowing his eyebrows. “But I can if you want me to?”
“No,” Akaashi quickly responded, immediately clamping his mouth shut as soon as the words left his lips. “I mean.” A pause. “I was just asking.”
“Ah,” Bokuto replied, turning his head slightly to hide the growing smirk on his lips. “Yeah, no. I was thinking a movie night for just the two of us.” Then, Bokuto turned to Akaashi and smiled. “Sound good?”
“Yeah,” Akaashi started with a soft smile. “Sounds good.”
_________
Bokuto pressed his back against the cold and rough, concrete wall and slid down until he sat on the grass next to you. Students of all years bustled throughout the courtyard, each carrying lunch boxes or sacks while chatting animatedly with one another. You and Bokuto sat against a corner of one of the buildings in one of the only patches of grass throughout the entire courtyard.
“I’m exhausted,” Bokuto complained, stretching his arms above his head and giving a jaw popping yawn.
“You seemed fine this morning?” you commented, unwrapping your sandwich and taking out a bottle of peach yogo from your lunch bag.
“Yeah, because I chugged an energy drink before I left the house,” Bokuto replied as he pressed the palms of his hands into his eyes.
“Did you stay up late?”
“Kind of.”
“Math?”
“Nah, Akaashi.”
“Oo-lala,” you teased, taking a bite out of her sandwich. “Do tell.”
“Not like that, you horn-dog,” Bokuto laughed, bumping you lightly with his shoulder. “He couldn’t sleep, so he called and we just talked for a bit.”
“Bout what?” you asked, laughing quietly while chewing your food.
“This and that,” Bokuto mused as he brought his own lunch bag in front of him and started to unpack two sandwiches and a bottle of water. “I told him about that blind date that Kuroo set you up on, then I ranted for a while about Looper.”
“Oh my god,” you exaggeratedly groaned. “Did you explain to him how they fucked up the time travel theories?”
“Yes!” Bokuto exclaimed, sitting up straight and turning to you. “I’m still so mad about it.”
“Same,” you agreed with a nod. “They really should’ve just stuck to the singular timeline theory. It made so much more sense with how they ended the movie.”
“Right?” Bokuto said, taking a huge bite out of his sandwich.
Through bites of food, Bokuto told you about his (one-sided) conversation with Akaashi about the movie when, out of the corner of his eye, Bokuto saw a familiar figure walking towards them. Bokuto turned to face the figure and smiled brightly while patting the ground just next to him.
“Hey, Akaashi,” Bokuto greeted.
“Hey,” Akaashi replied, looking at both Bokuto and you while taking a seat where Bokuto had indicated. “What’re you guys talking about?”
“Looper,” you replied, popping the rest of your sandwich into your mouth before taking a swig of peach yogo. “Bokuto told me that he went off on his usual rant about how badly they fucked up the time travel bit to you?”
“Oh, yeah,” Akaashi quietly chuckled, glancing quickly at a beaming Bokuto. “He did. Have you seen the movie?”
“Yeah, Bokuto and I saw it in theatres when it came out,” you responded with a smile. “Have you seen it?”
“We’re gonna see it this weekend,” Bokuto replied. He turned to Akaashi and smiled. “Right?”
“Right,” Akaashi responded blankly with a small nod.
“I think you’ll like it,” you commented, clapping your hands together to brush off the crumbs. “If you can get past the blatant disregard for spacetime theory.”
“I didn’t realize you and Bokuto-san liked that kind of stuff,” Akaashi quietly commented while unpacking his lunch.
“Yeah, we do,” Rai chuckled with a smirk. “It’s actually the closest thing to math and physics that Bokuto is good at.”
“Hey,” Bokuto protested. “That’s not true. I’m pretty good at baking, and that requires some basic chemistry knowledge.”
“You bake?” Akaashi asked, furrowing his eyebrows at Bokuto.
“God, don’t get him started,” you complained with a groan. “You think he can talk for hours about time travel? Ask him about his “perfect recipe” for carrot cake some time.”
“Stay jealous,” Bokuto retorted, sticking his tongue out to you before turning to Akaashi and smiling. “I’ll make you something when you come over.”
“You don’t have to,” Akaashi replied with a small, half-smile.
“I know, but I want to,” Bokuto reassured with a full, bright smile.
Akaashi paused a moment, then nodded and laughed lightly. “Okay then.”
“Good luck,” you chuckled, casting Akaashi a sympathetic look. “He can get kind of bossy in the kitchen, so don’t take it personally.”
“I do not,” Bokuto shot back with a glare. “I’m only bossy with you because you never read the recipe.”
“I don’t need to read the recipe because I have it memorized,” you argued back, crossing your arms and returning Bokuto’s glare. “Plus, I’m not the one who’s always trying to change the recipe.”
“I’m not changing the recipe, I’m just using different ingredients.”
“Yeah, weird ingredients! I mean,” you paused a moment to peer over to Akaashi who sat in stunned silence. “Would you put mayo in a cookie recipe?”
“I told you,” Bokuto interjected before Akaashi could reply. “Mayo is just oil and egg whites. Plus, it adds a nice texture to the cookies!”
“It’s weird,” you insisted, crumbling up the wrapping your sandwich came in and throwing it into your lunch bag.
“You’re weird.”
“You’re weird!”
Bokuto and you glared at each other as an uncomfortable silence settled between Akaashi and the duo. Akaashi watched in hesitant nervousness, waiting for one of you two seniors to finally break the silence. When neither of you did, Akaashi cleared his throat quietly and garnered the attention of you two idiots.
“Should I leave?” Akaashi asked, pursing his lips and glancing down at the grass.
“No, why?” you asked, furrowing your eyebrows.
“Just feels like you guys are having a lover’s quarrel,” Akaashi chuckled, glancing quickly up at Bokuto and you and smiling sheepishly.
“Gross,” you gagged, pulling your legs into a criss-cross. “I pity the fool who ends up with this dunce.”
“Rude,” Bokuto shot back with a small scowl as you flashed him a toothy and exaggerated grin.
“You love me.”
“No, not really,” Bokuto replied with an exasperated smirk. You laughed and jumped up onto your feet, brushing off the rest of the crumbs from your skirt.
“Imma head out a bit early,” you started, picking up your lunch bag. “I wanna run down to the convenience store and grab a snack before lunch ends. Do you want anything?”
“Caffeine,” Bokuto immediately replied, fishing out a few dollars from his wallet and holding it out to you.
“Kay,” you said before turning to Akaashi. “Akaashi?”
“I’m good, thanks,” Akaashi replied with a smile.
You nodded and turned to leave, and Bokuto watched as you briskly made your way to the center of the courtyard. Suddenly, you turned around, locked eyes with him, and flashed him two thumbs up. A burning heat bloomed across Bokuto’s face, and he shot you a deathly glare, making you laugh before turning tail and speeding away.
“Bokuto-san?” Bokuto turned to Akaashi and quirked an eyebrow, desperately willing away the redness in his face. “Are you and y/n-san dating?”
Bokuto’s eyes widened at the sudden question, and Akaashi seemed equally shocked because he quickly turned away before Bokuto could form a response. Bokuto opened his mouth, but when he noticed the deep red, almost purple color in the tips of Akaashi’s ears, he paused and quirked his lips to the side into a small frown.
“Akaashi,” Bokuto started, waiting for the setter to look at him before continuing. “I promise. We’re just friends. If I’m lying to you, I swear, I’ll quit the team and never play volleyball again. Okay?”
A tense silence fell between the two boys as Akaashi stared dumbfoundedly at Bokuto. Bokuto frowned lightly before smiling and poking Akaashi’s cheek. Akaashi scowled at the sudden playfulness, making Bokuto laugh and the weird atmosphere dissipate into something warm and comforting.
“Besides,” Bokuto casually started, dutifully ignoring Akaashi’s stare. “Unless y/n suddenly grows a pair of balls, she really isn’t my type.”
“Oh,” came Akaashi’s surprised and only response. Bokuto glanced at the boy and smirked to himself as he took in Akaashi’s stunned and more than slightly embarrassed expression.
“Yeah,” Bokuto chuckled. “So. I promise. Just friends.”
“Right,” Akaashi replied with a smile. “Just friends.”
__________
Bokuto stifled a huge yawn behind his fist as he clutched the green penguin/owl plush to his chest with one arm. He leaned against the school gate, feeling his eyes drooping shut and the weight of his gym bag and backpack growing heavier with every second. Bokuto’s head started to bob up and down as the boy struggled to stay awake when, suddenly, he heard his name being called. When he looked up, he smiled and stood up straight.
“Hey,” Bokuto greeted as Akaashi walked up to him. Akaashi still wore his school uniform and, like Bokuto, held a gym bag and backpack.
“Hi,” Akaashi replied with a smile. “Why did you wanna meet up before practice?”
“Wanted to give you something,” Bokuto replied with a nervous smile. Then, in the most ungraceful manner possible, he shoved the plush into Akaashi’s arms, making the poor setter stumble backwards a couple steps. “Oh, shit, sorry.”
“It’s fine,” Akaashi chuckled, standing up straight and taking a proper look at the plush. He quirked an eyebrow at it and tilted his head slightly to the side before looking back to Bokuto. “I thought you got this penguin for y/n-san?”
“Not you too,” Bokuto groaned, slumping his shoulders and feigning a small tantrum. “How do you and y/n not see that it’s an owl?”
“I’m sorry,” Akaashi laughed, squishing the penguin plush once and smiling at it. “It can be an owl if you want.”
“I do, yes. That is what I want,” Bokuto resolutely said with a determined nod. Akaashi laughed.
“Okay.” A pause. “So, is this mine, then?”
“Yeah,” Bokuto replied with a smile, pulling his phone out of his pocket and pointing it at Akaashi. “Smile!”
Before Akaashi could react, Bokuto snapped several pictures of the stunned and furiously blushing boy. Bokuto cackled like a madman as he stuffed his phone into his pocket and sprinted away from the stunned Akaashi.
“Bokuto-san!” Akaashi called out, scowling at the ridiculous senior. Bokuto stopped in his tracks, spun around, and flashed Akaashi a bright and wild smile.
“Check the tag!” Bokuto yelled back, pointing to his own ear with one hand and to the penguin with his other.
With that, Bokuto ran towards the boy’s locker room, and Akaashi watched him leave in slight annoyance and absolute amusement. When Bokuto was out of sight, Akaashi looked down at the penguin plush and turned it over until he found a folded up note card stapled to the penguin’s ear.
Quirking an eyebrow, Akaashi carefully detached the note and unfolded it. His eyes quickly scanned over the big, bold letters, and the most wondrous and magnificent smile graced Akaashi’s lips while a beautiful pink dusted his cheeks.
May I ask 👉🏼👈🏼 what happened to before you go? It was literally the light of my life. I don’t know what happiness is anymore 😭😭
Hi! So sorry, I got swamped with school :/ I’m defending my thesis in about a week, so that’s been taking my full attention for the past couple months. But I’ve story boarded the rest of the story so I’m ready to finish it in December!
Bokuto stood in the doorway to the team’s locker room with a brown, duct-taped shut shoebox in his hands. He glanced around at the confused faces of his teammates whose gazes were all fixated on the box and smiled.
“It’s a surprise!”
“Okay, I’m probably gonna regret asking this,” one of Bokuto’s teammates, Konoha, started with a small wince. “But what kind of surprise?”
“Don’t worry, it’s a good one,” Bokuto replied as he moved towards his locker and carefully set the box down at his feet. Then, in the quietest of voices, Bokuto added, “I hope.”
“What do you mean, “you hope?”” Bokuto turned his head to see Konoha looking in mild panic back at him. Around the room, the rest of the boys had similar expressions on all their faces.
“Bokuto-san,” the team’s setter, Akaashi, calmly chided while Bokuto undid the padlock on his locker and swung the door open. “Can you please tell us what the surprise is?”
“Not yet, it’s not ready,” Bokuto nonchalantly replied as he placed his belongings into his locker.
“What do you mean “it’s not ready”?” Konoha pressed. The rest of his team gave each other worried glances, but they were lost on Bokuto as the boy gingerly slid the shoebox on the bottom shelf of the locker. He softly patted the top of the box, smiling to himself, before closing the locker and replacing the lock.
“Bokuto.” Bokuto turned to face his teammates and saw them all looking very sternly back at him. There was a brief moment of silence as the boys all stared at each other before Konoha spoke again. “What’s in the box?”
“Nothing,” Bokuto firmly insisted as he walked towards the locker room door. “I’ll show you guys when it’s ready, I promise.”
With that, Bokuto left the group of bewildered and more than slightly concerned boys behind and headed towards the gym for the start of morning practice. As he walked away, he could hear the furious questions and exclamations of concern coming from his team, but his mind was too fixated on the contents of his box to really notice.
__________
“Bokuto, I swear to god, tell me what’s in the box right now or I’ll tell Akaashi that you were the one who wrecked his lit report,” the libero of the team, Komi, threatened as he and Bokuto walked to class from the locker room. Bokuto held the shoebox tightly to his chest, his arms wrapped securely around it. He was careful not to jostle it too much as they walked, keeping it as level as he possibly could.
“Sorry, but, he already knows it was me,” Bokuto easily replied, scrunching up his face and sticking his tongue out at his scowling teammate.
“Come on,” Komi pleaded, the door to their homeroom coming into view. “What is it? Give me a hint.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because.”
“Bokuto.”
“Yes?”
“Stop being an ass. Just give me a hint.” Bokuto hummed to himself and looked up to the ceiling. The two boys quickly reached their homeroom and, as they walked inside, Bokuto looked to Komi and responded.
“No.”
“Bokuto!”
But Bokuto only flashed Komi a smile before making a beeline to his desk on the other side of the room. Komi gawked at Bokuto as the teacher walked in and instructed the class to take their seats. Bokuto gently set the box down on his desk and stared excitedly at the top of the lid as if something would pop out at any moment.
The teacher took his place in the front of the room and greeted the class before taking attendance. Komi threw suspicious glances at the enthralled Bokuto the whole while, nearly missing his name being called. Bokuto didn’t look up from his box for the entirety of the homeroom, and Komi never stopped glancing at Bokuto.
Class dragged on one hour, then two, then three, until, finally, the bell for lunch rang. Komi quickly packed up his bag, but as he stood up to face Bokuto, he saw that the ace had already zipped out of the classroom. Komi gave an exasperated sigh as he pulled out his phone and shot a text message to the groupchat that he and his teammates had made after practice.
Akaashi, you’re up -- Komi.
_________
Akaashi slipped his phone into his pocket and sighed. Truthfully, he had hoped to have a relaxing, idle chatter filled lunch with his friends. Unfortunately, his mischievous boyfriend had decided to bring a “surprise” packed in a suspicious shoebox that morning and refused to tell anyone anything about the contents of said box. Akaashi wasn’t too concerned about it, at first, but Bokuto’s adamance about not revealing the “surprise” pushed Akaashi to participate in “operation: what’s in the box” that he and his teammates had undertaken after practice.
Akaashi walked down the hallway, his lunch bag tucked under his arm, towards the exit that led out into the school’s courtyard where the team usually eats lunch together every day. The plan was for Akaashi to question (interrogate) Bokuto in private for the first half of lunch before the rest of the team would arrive to continue the questioning (interrogation). But when Akaashi got to their lunch spot, he saw that Rai, Bokuto’s neighbor and childhood best friend, was already there.
Rai was sitting next to Bokuto, taking a bite out of her sandwich as Bokuto laughed at something that she had said. The shoebox sat on Bokuto’s lap, and he had one hand placed protectively on the lid. When Akaashi approached the duo, Bokuto beamed up at him, looked down at the free spot on the ground beside him, then looked back to Akaashi.
“Hey, Akaashi,” Rai greeted as Akaashi took a seat next to Bokuto. “Did you manage to redo your lit paper in time?”
“Just barely,” Akaashi replied, casting Bokuto an annoyed side glance that made Bokuto chuckle nervously.
“Sorry, again,” Bokuto said, bumping Akaashi’s shoulder lightly with his own in an attempt to placate the boy. “I promise to put away your laptop next time before filling up water balloons.”
“Or how about not filling up water balloons in the library using water bottles,” Rai commented with a smirk.
“That too,” Bokuto conceded with a sheepish smile. Akaashi sighed and brought out a small bento from his lunch bag. He placed it on the ground in front of him and glanced at the shoebox in Bokuto’s lap. Suddenly, a small, sly smile broke out on Akaashi’s lips.
“You can make it up to me by telling me what’s in the box,” Akaashi nonchalantly offered, casually opening his bento before looking back at Bokuto. Bokuto pursed his lips into a small frown and looked down at the box, stroking the lid softly with his index finger.
“But,” Bokuto started in a small, almost whiny voice. “It’s a surprise.” For a split second, Akaashi wondered if it was such a bad idea to just let Bokuto reveal the surprise on his own time, but when Rai snickered Akaashi decided against it.
“Let Bokuto have his fun, Akaashi,” Rai said, popping the rest of his sandwich into her mouth. “It’s not that terrifying.”
“What do you mean?” Akaashi questioned, quirking an eyebrow as a sense of dread sank his stomach. “Do you know what it is?”
“Oh yeah. I was the one who helped Bokuto cut it off and wrap it up nicely,” Rai taunted with a wicked smirk. Bokuto glanced at her, a smirk on his lips as well, before looking back to a shocked Akaashi.
“Don’t worry about it, Akaashi,” Bokuto slyly reassured, bringing the box closer to him and patting the lid. “It’ll be all ripe and ready soon. Probably by the end of the day.”
“What do you mean “cut off”?” Akaashi asked with a mildly horrified expression on his face.
“Hey, Bokuto,” Rai said, ignoring Akaashi’s question. “Do you remember that one movie? The one with Brad Pitt and Morgan Freeman?”
“Se7en?” Bokuto replied with a smirk. “The one with the “what’s in the box” scene?” Bokuto quietly screamed the quote, dramatically mimicking how the scene played out in the movie.
“Yeah,” Rai said with just as mischievous a smirk as she peered over Bokuto at Akaashi. “Have you seen it?”
“No,” Akaashi warrily replied. “What happens?”
“Oh, it’s pretty gruesome. You should look it up.”
“Oh god,” Akaashi quietly whispered to himself as he pulled his phone out and looked up the movie.
He found the Wikipedia page and quickly glanced over the plot of the movie, growing evermore worried with each word he read. At the end of the synopsis was a detailed description of the movie’s plot. Akaashi paused a moment, mentally preparing himself for what he was about to read, then carefully read over the plot.
“What the fuck?” Akaashi sputtered out, whipping his head towards the cackling duo. Akaashi rarely ever cursed, which made his reaction ever more amusing to the two conniving students. “Do you have a decapitated head in there?”
“Oh, no,” Rai deviously replied, her words dripping with sarcasm. “We would never do something like that.”
“Yeah, Akaashi,” Bokuto added, attempting to stifle his laughter. “We would never do something like that.”
“Guys,” Akaashi pleaded, eyeing the box carefully. “Please tell me it’s not the decapitated head of some poor animal in there.”
“You’ll just have to wait and see,” Bokuto chided, patting the lid and smiling sweetly at Akaashi. “I bet it’s gonna be pretty shocking.”
“Yeah,” Rai continued, pursing her lips in an attempt to stifle her laughter, “You’ll never forget it.”
“Does anyone else know what it is?” Akaashi asked in desperation.
"You mean “is anyone else an accomplice?”,” Rai laughed, packing up her trash and stretching her arms out in front of her. “Just the usual suspects.”
“Of course,” Akaashi commented, opening the messaging app on his phone to shoot the most likely candidate for “the usual suspects” a message.
Kuroo-san, do you know what Bokuto-san has in the box -- Akaashi.
“Goodluck getting anything out of him,” Bokuto chuckled. “He’ll never sell us out.”
Akaashi side-eyed the troublemaking duo when his phone buzzed with a response from Kuroo.
Yeah -- Kuroo.
What is it? -- Akaashi.
Can’t say -- Kuroo. Akaashi scowled at his phone.
Why? -- Akaashi.
Because I’m not gonna sell out my best friend or my girlfriend -- Kuroo. Akaashi’s scowl deepened, and he heard Bokuto and Rai start to laugh.
Can you at least tell me if it’s a decapitated head or not? -- Akaashi.
I’m sure you’ll find out soon enough. It looked pretty near ready when I saw it this morning-- Kuroo.
“What’d he say?” Akaashi looked up at Rai and furrowed his eyebrows at her devilish smirk.
“You’re all going to end up in jail some day,” Akaashi replied, slipping his phone back into his pocket.
“Probably,” Bokuto responded. “But you’ll bail me out, right?”
“No.”
“Oof,” Rai laughed as Bokuto pouted at his boyfriend. She clapped Bokuto on the shoulder and added, “That’s rough, buddy.”
“Rai-san,” Akaashi said with a desperate look in his eyes at the smirking girl. “Please tell me you guys didn’t do anything illegal. Can you at least tell me that?”
Akaashi tried to keep as straight a face as he could while Rai studied him closely. She narrowed her eyes and hummed as the three of them sat in silence. Finally, Rai smirked.
“Would you even believe me if I said “no”?”
“I--,” Akaashi started. Suddenly, Akaashi’s mind went blank, and he shut his mouth. Bokuto and Rai laughed at his reaction, and Rai stood up and stretched her arms high above her head.
“I’ll see you guys later, I promised my captain that I’d help figure out the starting roster for our next practice match,” Rai said as he picked up her things. She flashed Bokuto and Akaashi a bright and devious smile before walking off.
“Oh, that reminds me too,” Bokuto started as he packed up his own things. He carefully set his box down on the other side of him where Rai had sat, stood up, and quickly picked the box back up before Akaashi could try to grab it. “I need to go talk to Coach about setting up another practice match with Nekoma.”
“Wait--”
“See you later,” Bokuto interrupted with a smirk. Before Akaashi could say anything else, Bokuto speedily walked away with his box carefully held in front of him, leaving a stunned, confused, and wildly concerned Akaashi behind.
Akaashi watched as his boyfriend disappeared back into the school building, his mind racing with thoughts of the conversation he had just had with Rai and Bokuto. He wracked his brain for any possible and believable idea of what could be in the box, praying to whatever god there was that it wasn’t an actual head.
But the more he tried to convince himself that it wasn’t a head, the more he started to believe it was. Especially when he considered the insane shenanigans that Bokuto and Rai would often get into. And when Kuroo was added to that mix, the daring duo became the terrifying trio who, in their latest prank, created an elephant toothpaste bomb that had stained the Nekoma courtyard pink and earned the trio a 2-week suspension from their respective clubs’ practices.
“Hey, Akaashi.” Akaashi looked up to see the rest of his team walking towards him. Their expressions ranged from anticipation to slight dread as they took their seats around Akaashi. Once everyone was situated, Komi spoke again. “So, did you find out?”
“Not… exactly.”
“What do you mean?”
“Have you ever seen the movie Se7en?”
“Yeah-- oh god.”
“Yeah.”
___________
A tense silence filled the locker room as Akaashi and the rest of his team changed into their volleyball uniforms. Furrowed eyebrows and nervous glances colored the faces of each boy, and, with each passing second, the tension grew heavier and heavier. Suddenly, the locker room door swung open, and Bokuto froze in the doorway, box in hand, as all the boys’ heads whipped towards him.
“Bokuto, what’s in the box?” Komi shouted before Akaashi or any of the other boys could say anything. But Komi’s sudden outburst broke the proverbial dam, and the room was instantly filled with a cacophony of questions and demands.
“Just tell us!”
“Why won’t you tell us what’s in there?”
“I swear to god, Bokuto, if it’s a head, I will call the police!”
“Bokuto-san, please tell me what’s in the box.”
“Woah,” Bokuto muttered, stumbling backwards and curling around his box as if to protect it from a sudden storm. “Calm down, guys, it’s really not that big of a deal.”
“Are you serious!? You and Rai literally spent all of lunch hinting that it’s the corpse of something, and you’re telling us it’s not that big of a deal?”
“Why are you freaking out?” Bokuto questioned, a rising terror in his voice. “It’s nothing!”
“Then tell us!”
“It’s not ready yet!”
“Bokuto!”
Then, in one perfectly orchestrated motion, all the boys rushed towards Bokuto. Bokuto let out a small yelp and bolted away, holding the box out in front of him as if trying not to tilt or jostle it more than it was already being jostled. He bounded down the stairs that led up to the locker room, jumping down the last five, and sprinted towards the gym. Behind him, he could hear his teammates screaming his name and demanding that he show them what was in the box.
As Bokuto neared the gym, he saw the girl’s volleyball team approaching from the opposite direction, and his eyes locked onto Rai. He sped up and shouted her name, making her look up. A flash of surprise followed by shock and terror crossed her features as Bokuto ran up to her with the rest of the boys stampeding closely behind.
“Here, take it” Bokuto sputtered out, shoving the box into Rai’s arms. “Run!”
“Bokuto!” Rai took one look at the enraged boys, spun around, and dashed off as Bokuto tried to block the boys with his body.
“Guys, calm down!” Bokuto shouted, grabbing Konoha by the back of his shirt and Komi by his arm. But the two boys easily ripped their ways out of Bokuto’s grasp and followed the rest of the team as they raced towards the retreating Rai. “Guys! Stop!”
“Rai!”
“You’re gonna hurt it!” Bokuto pleaded, sprinting forwards to catch up to the rest of his team. Rai was a decent distance ahead, but the boys were quickly closing the distance. She glanced over his shoulder, the box held out in front of her much like how Bokuto had had it, then pressed forwards. The sound of feet thundering against pavement and the screams and shouts of all the boys echoed in the air.
“Rai!” Suddenly, Rai dashed to the right, stunning the boys for just a second. But that slight delay was just enough for her to pull ahead. Seconds later, the school’s fenced tennis courts came into view. Rai sprinted through the open door, slammed the gates shut, gently placed the box on the ground behind her, placed her hands on the door, and leaned her whole weight against it.
“Dude!”
A moment later, Rai jolted backwards as the boys crashed into the gate. Shouts and screams resounded all around as Rai desperately tried to keep the boys from pushing the gate open. Her chest heaved up and down, and she glanced up to see Bokuto’s back as the boy tried to defend the door against his crazed teammates.
“Guys, chill!” Bokuto shouted over the raised voices of his teammates.
“Seriously! Knock it off!” Rai added, her words coming out in between gasps for air.
“Tell us what’s in the box!”
“Fine!” Rai screamed. Suddenly, all commotion ceased in its entirety, and Rai looked up to see that all the boys were staring pointedly at her as they all huffed and puffed in an attempt to catch their breaths.
“Okay, then,” Konoha started. He swallowed thickly and breathed harshly before continuing, “Tell us. What’s in the box?”
“You guys are shitheads,” Rai irritatedly spat, slapping her hands on her hips and glaring at each one of them. “If Fish is dead, then I’m coming after all of you.”
“Fish?” Akaashi questioned, taking a step forward and looking confusedly at Bokuto. “Is it a fish?”
“No, it’s name is Fish,” Bokuto replied, his face falling and a small frown on his lips. “I wanted to show you after it was all hatched and stuff because I thought we could let him go together as a team.”
“Hatched?” Akaashi looked bewilderedly at Rai who continued to glare back. “Is it an egg?”
“No.”
Rai reached down and picked up the box. As she carefully removed the duct tape from around the lid, Bokuto stepped aside and opened the gate. He quickly moved to Rai’s side and took the box from her hands while she pulled off the last of the tape. At the same time, the team walked onto the tennis court and crowded around Bokuto and Rai.
Bokuto carefully cracked open the lid and peered inside, his teammates all waiting for him to reveal Fish with bated breath. Suddenly, Bokuto gasped and threw the lid open, laughing and jumping up and down.
“Oh my god! It’s hatching!”
“What is it?”
Bokuto extended the box out towards the boys, beaming with pride and excitement. The boys all pushed forwards, shoving each other out of the way as they all tried to look at what could be hatching.
“Wait, is that a butterfly?”
“Yeah!”
The boys all looked at Bokuto in shock, their mouths agape and their eyes as wide as saucers. Next to Bokuto, Rai stood with her arms crossed and her shoulders shaking in silent laughter. They looked between Bokuto, Rai, and the hatching chrysalis, confused beyond belief.
The chrysalis hung precariously from a sawed off branch that was nestled securely across the shoebox. Beneath the chrysalis was a pile of tissue paper meant to protect the chrysalis should it fall off the branch from, for example, a wild goose chase.
The fiery orange wings of the butterfly poked through the translucent walls of the chrysalis, which swung back and forth as the little butterfly tried to break its way out of its shell. Its black body was a quarter of the way out, and its legs wiggled furiously as it tried to claw the rest of the way out.
“Come on, Fish,” Bokuto encouraged as he gently set the box on the ground. “You can do it.”
“Let’s go, Fish, let’s go,” Rai chanted as she sat criss-crossed in front of the box. Bokuto joined her as did the rest of the team, everyone’s eyes fixated on the small butterfly.
The chrysalis continued to wiggle back and forth, stopping every so often as Fish would pause his endeavor to break free. Seconds quickly turned into minutes as the volleyball players all watched Fish be born into the world.
“Guys, practice is starting.” Everyone’s heads whipped around to find the boy’s team manager and Rai’s team captain standing at the entrance to the tennis courts. Rai’s captain furrowed her eyebrows and walked towards the group as she asked, “What’re you guys looking at?”
“Hey, cap,” Rai said, scooting to the side on her butt and patting the ground next to her. “Come see. Fish is almost here.”
“Oh, is it hatching already?”
“Wait,” Komi started, gawking at the girl’s team captain as she took a seat next to Rai. “You knew?”
“Yeah. Our whole team knows,” the girl casually responded. “Rai told us about it earlier.”
“Dude,” Komi started incredulously, turning towards Bokuto. “Why didn’t you tell us?” All the boys stared at Bokuto as he smiled sheepishly and shrugged.
“I wanted to surprise you guys,” Bokuto started. Then, he turned to Akaashi, who had taken a seat next to Bokuto, and smiled. “I’ve never seen a butterfly hatch before, so I wanted everyone to watch together.”
“Oh,” Akaashi quietly said, his tone filled with guilt and surprise.
“Yeah,” Rai interjected, crossing her arms and quirking her lips to the side in a frown. “So, I repeat. You guys are all shitheads who almost killed Fish. Don’t think I’ll let you off the hook for this.”
“You should’ve just told us what it was!” Konoha defended as a look of worry and horror crossed everyone’s faces at the thought of Rai’s punishment, which would undoubtedly be an extremely unpleasant prank.
“Bokuto wanted it to be a surprise. What part of “surprise” do you not understand?”
“Then why did you make it seem like it was a dead animal or something?”
“Because I thought it would be fun to fuck with you guys. How was I supposed to know that you would go apeshit crazy.”
The boys all looked guiltily at each other before turning to Bokuto and giving a collective apology for not trusting the boy and almost hurting Fish.
“It’s okay,” Bokuto reassured with a smile. “No harm, no foul.”
“Guys, look!” Rai’s captain exclaimed, pointing to the box.
Everyone’s attention was immediately captured by Fish once more as it finally managed to break out of its chrysalis. Fish hung upside down from its chrysalis, its wings twitching slightly as they elongated into beautiful, heart shaped figures. The brilliant orange contrasted elegantly with the white specks, and was made even more vivid in comparison to the jet black outlines of the wings.
The volleyball players watched, absolutely enthralled as Fish tentatively fluttered its wings. The flutters started off small, almost hesitant. But, before long, the movements became smooth and graceful.
“I think it’s about to fly away,” Bokuto whispered, leaning forwards until his face was just a foot away from Fish.
Then, as if on cue, Fish beat its wings and flitted away, dancing in the air as it left the comfort of its make-shift, shoebox home. The players all watched it fly higher and higher before it flew off to the side and into the distance. It landed on the top of the chain link fence and stayed there, almost as if it were saying goodbye to its caretakers and almost killers.
“Bye, Fish!” Bokuto said, waving ecstatically at the butterfly. “Have a good life!”
“See you around, Fish!” Rai added, waving herself. “Make sure to come and visit when you can!”
Fish lingered for a second longer before it flew away. The group of amazed teens watched in wrapped interest until Fish disappeared from sight. They sat in silence for just a moment until Akaashi spoke.
“Thanks for showing us Fish,” Akaashi said to Bokuto, a soft smile on his lips. “It was a great surprise.”
“Yeah,” Komi agreed, a bright smile on his lips that mirrored the rest of the boys’. “That was really cool, Bokuto.”
“I’m glad you guys liked it,” Bokuto replied, swaying side to side and bumping Rai and Akaashi with each movement.
“Where did you two find it?” Akaashi asked, quirking an eyebrow at Rai and Bokuto.
“Bokuto, Kuroo, and I were at the park the other day and saw it hanging from a tree,” Rai started, leaning back onto her hands. “Bokuto said he’d never seen a butterfly hatch before, so we got a saw and a shoebox to cut it down and keep it.”
“I was watching it all week,” Bokuto said, glancing around at the others. “And this morning I sent a picture to Kuroo, and he said that it looked ready to hatch. I didn’t wanna miss it, so I brought it to school.”
“Oh,” Akaashi replied with a smile. “Well, I’m glad none of us missed it.”
“Yeah,” Komi added. The rest of the team agreed and thanked both Bokuto and Rai for keeping Fish safe from their wild antics and accusations.
“So, I hate to break up this lovely moment,” one of the Fukurodani managers said as she stood up and brushed her butt off. “But coach is gonna be pissed if you guys don’t get your asses to practice right now.”
“Right,” Bokuto replied. He jumped up and grabbed the box off the ground, closing the lid and tucking it under his arm. “Let’s go!”
The rest of the players stood up and followed Bokuto out of the tennis courts, chatting excitedly about Fish and wondering if any other chrysalises could be found in the trees surrounding the school. Akaashi, Rai, and Bokuto walked side by side at the front of the group, laughing and commenting on how crazed the boys had gotten over Fish.
“Kuroo’s gonna lose his shit when I tell him what happened,” Rai chuckled. “So is Yui.”
“Well, next time,” Akaashi started, looking at Bokuto. “Do you think you could skip the whole “what’s in the box” game and just tell us? Or, at least, tell me?”
There were only three things in the world that really got under Miya Osamu’s skin. Firstly, when the weather forecast mistakenly predicted sunshine and clear skies. Secondly, when people had more than 10 items in the express check out at the grocery store. And thirdly, when he was offered unsolicited advice about, well, anything.
Whether it was school work, volleyball, or dating, the question “can I offer you some advice” really bothered him. So, when the topic of his seemingly apathetic girlfriend came up at a get together that Osamu was at, he knew that he was in for a very, very long night.
“Can I offer you some advice?” a boy named Hiro asked Osamu as he took a sip from his solo cup.
Hiro was the host of the get together and a friend of Atsumu from a different sports club at Inarizaki. Atsumu managed to drag Osamu along by convincing their mutual best friend, who also happened to be Osamu’s girlfriend, to come as well. When the three arrived, Atsumu immediately split from the group to talk to other highschool athletes, and Osamu’s girlfriend disappeared without a word.
So, Osamu resigned himself to sit at a table and chat with Hiro and another boy he had recognized from his class. At some point, two other girls joined their little group and, as teenage conversations usually go, they ended up on the topic of dating. It was then that Osamu had to answer many, many random and occasionally intrusive questions about his girlfriend who had been, for lack of a better word, MIA the whole night except when suddenly appearing for snacks or drinks.
The group had immediately noticed how distant Osamu’s girlfriend seemed to be, especially when Osamu called out to her and she only waved back before disappearing once more. Her actions didn’t bother Osamu in the slightest, but it raised many questions from the group. And, with the questions, came the inevitable dating tips.
“Try taking the initiative,” Hiro suggested, setting his cup down. “Yumi really likes that. She says it makes her feel special.”
“Oh, I second that,” a girl sitting in between Hiro and another boy chimed in. She leaned across the table where Osamu, Hiro, and two others sat and turned her head to smile at the boy sitting next to her. “I love it when Yuu randomly holds my hand while we’re walking and sneaks kisses and stuff. It’s very romantic.”
“Duly noted,” Yuu replied, pressing a kiss to the girl’s cheek and placing his hand on top of hers.
“Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind,” Osamu replied, bringing his bottle of beer to his lips so he wouldn’t have to force a smile. He took a long sip, hoping that if he finished the alcohol more quickly it would get him more buzzed than he was in that moment.
“Does Haru not like PDA? Maybe that’s why she’s kind of aloof,” the other girl sitting on the other side of Hiro asked with a quizzical expression in her eyes.
“She doesn’t really care either way,” Osamu responded, quickly glancing around the room in a desperate search for someone to save him from this conversation.
He saw Atsumu standing in the corner, chatting animatedly with some volleyball players from other schools in the area. Sat in front of the large TV playing Treasure Planet over the foyer were Suna and a random assortment of boys and girls from Inarizaki and other local highschools. They were all either squished onto the sofa or sitting on the floor, many of them cozied up with their partners. And, unfortunately for Osamu, everyone’s attention was too wrapped up to notice the pleading “save me” look in his eyes.
“Then I also support what Hiro and Yuna said. Definitely make the first move!” the girl finished, courting Osamu’s attention back to the conversation.
“And like I said, Mai,” Osamu started with a half smile, reaching for the bowl of pretzels in the middle of the table, “I’ll keep it in mind. Thanks.”
“Hey hey,” a voice suddenly chimed from behind Osamu. He felt the gentle drum of fingers on his shoulder and looked up to see the soft smile he loved so very, very much.
“Hey, Haru,” Hiro greeted with a bright smile. “What’s up?”
“Do you have any ginger ale and baking soda?” Haru asked dispassionately.
“I think so?” Hiro replied, standing up. “Why?”
“Yumi puked all over your comforter,” Haru responded in a completely nonchalant almost deadpanned manner.
“Wait what? Why? Is she okay?” Hiro blurted out, stumbling around the table and sprinting towards the kitchen before Haru could answer.
Osamu took Haru’s hand, gave it a light squeeze, and placed a gentle kiss on her knuckles. Haru squeezed Osamu’s hand back three times before letting it go and reaching for more pretzels.
“Are you having fun?” Osamu asked, wrapping an arm around Haru’s waist and tugging her into his side.
“Yeah,” Haru replied, popping a pretzel into her mouth.
“Why did Yumi throw up?” Yuu asked as he quirked his eyebrow. “I thought she wasn’t drinking tonight.”
“I was showing her a video of a guy who had two spiders living in his ear and she just puked,” Haru stated, staring blankly at the boy.
“Seriously?”
“Yeah,” Haru replied as she peeled away from Osamu and popped another pretzel into her mouth. She tapped him three times on the shoulder before walking away without another word. Osamu watched her as she left, smiling softly to himself the whole while and smirking when Hiro suddenly ran by her with paper towels, plastic bags, and a box of baking soda.
“What the fuck?” Yuu breathed as Osamu turned back towards the table. The boy stared pointedly at him with a slightly horrified expression. “Spiders? Living in someone’s ear?”
“She likes insects,” Osamu responded with a bored shrug and amused smirk. “She also has a pet tarantula, so spiders don’t bother her.”
“Okay, aside from the absolutely horrifying image of spiders eating someone’s brain now burned into my memory,” Mai started with a visible shudder. “Is she always like that?”
“What do you mean?” Osamu asked, furrowing his eyebrows and dutifully the sharp pang of annoyance that sprang into his chest at the girl’s question.
“I mean, she was just like “meh”,” Mai shrugged her shoulders to personify the “meh”, “about Yumi throwing up everywhere.”
“Also,” the other girl slowly started. “She didn’t react at all when you hugged her or kissed her hand.” She quirked her lips to the side before continuing, “And she said all of one word to you while she was here.”
“Yeah, the girls have a point,” Yuu started as he picked up a pretzel and took a small bite out of it. “Haru kind of reminds me of Suna actually. Like, totally emotionless.”
“You’ve obviously never seen Suna have a bad day at practice,” Osamu chuckled, quickly finishing the last of his beer. “And she does have emotions, she’s just not flamboyant about them.”
“Maybe they have different love languages,” Yuna said to Mai, changing the topic and completely ignoring Osamu’s rebuttal regarding his girlfriend’s apparent lack of affection.
“Could be,” Mai agreed with a nod. They both turned back to Osamu who pursed his lips in an attempt to hide an annoyed frown.
“Do you and Haru give each other gifts often? Or do you two do things for each other like cooking or helping clean up or carrying the other person’s stuff?” Mai asked in a firm and determined tone.
“I guess sometimes?” Osamu replied in an utter confusion.
“What do you mean?” Osamu shrugged.
“I mean, I’ll carry her things for her when we walk home and make her ramen when she’s having a bad day. Stuff like that.”
“Okay, firstly, that’s adorable,” Mai commented with a dreamy look in her eyes. Then, she shot Suna, who was sitting next to his friend on the floor in front of the TV, a glare and said, “I wish someone would be romantic like that.”
“Uh-oh,” Yuu laughed, “Me thinks Suna’s in trouble”
“Uh-huh,” Mai said before turning back to Osamu and smiling. “And, secondly, does Haru do any of those things for you?”
“Well, the last time she cooked for me, she made candied crickets, so that’s a no,” Osamu replied with a smirk as he remembered when Atsumu ate a handful of crickets before Haru could tell him what they were. Atsumu was quite displeased, to say the least, with Haru that day. “And she’s usually carrying a bunch of insect field guides, so she can’t really carry any of my stuff too.”
“Hmm,” Mai hummed, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms. “It doesn’t seem like she’s very physically affectionate either.”
“At least, not in public,” Yuna continued, looking teasingly at Osamu. Yuu laughed and placed a hand on Yuna’s back.
“Okay, I’m done with this conversation,” Osamu said, ignoring the heat creeping onto his cheeks and pushing his chair back.
“Okay, okay, I’m sorry, I take it back” Yuna quickly replied, laughing and motioning Osamu to sit back down. She looked at Mai. “What’s left? Physical touch, acts of service, receiving gifts…”
“Quality time and words of affirmation,” Yuu finished. Osamu and the two girls looked surprisedly at the boy who sat with a smug smirk on his lips. “Yeah, that’s right, I am also an expert in romance.”
“Yes, you just keep telling yourself that, sweetie,” Yuna cooed, patting Yuu on the top of his head.
“Anywho,” Mai interjected before Yuu could retort. She leaned forwards a little and looked directly at Osamu. “Do you guys tell each other you love each other a lot? Or compliment each other?”
“Uhm,” Osamu hummed, genuinely curious about the answer to that question. He pursed his lips and sat back, looking up and to the side as he tried to remember the last time either he or Haru expressed their love or admiration of the other. “Not… really?”
“Then, do you guys spend a lot of time together?”
“Weekends mostly. I have volleyball during the week and she’s got the entomology club.”
“Okay then,” Mai replied, leaning back and glancing quickly at Yuna. “So, you’re some kind of blend of physical touch and service, and she’s... none of those things?”
“I don’t know. I guess?” As Osamu gave his answer, a curiosity bloomed inside his mind. He started to sift through all his memories with Haru to try and figure out what her “love language” could possibly be.
He had known her a long time even before they had started dating. She had moved to the neighborhood while he and Atsumu were still in elementary school, and the three of them were as thick as thieves from day one.
Actually, “day one” was a particularly memorable day as it started with Haru’s mother appearing on the boys’ doorstep on the verge of absolute hysterics. According to her, Haru had vanished from the front lawn, and the distraught mother had spent the last hour going door to door around the neighborhood looking for her. The twin’s mother tried to calm Haru’s mother down and offered to help ask the other neighbors. Atsumu and Osamu also took it upon themselves to help out. About half an hour later, the brothers found Haru asleep underneath a giant oak tree in a nearby park where a bustling beehive hung overhead.
The three walked back together while Haru chatted about honey bees the whole while. When they got back, there were two police cars in front of Haru’s house and her very distressed mother crying in the arms of the boys’ mother. At the sight of her mother, Haru proceeded to run up to her and started telling her all about the honey bees she had followed to the park, completely and utterly oblivious to her shocked mother, the twins’ stunned mother, and the gawking police officers. The policemen left shortly thereafter, and after a very stern lecture from her mother, Haru invited the confused but entertained boys over so she could show them her pet tarantula. And the rest was history.
“But, she loves you?” Mai pressed onwards.
“Yeah.”
“How do you know?”
“What do you mean?” Osamu furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.
“I mean, how do you know she loves you? Like, what does she do to make you feel loved?” Mai pressed, a growing curiosity in her tone.
“I don’t know, I just do.” Osamu furrowed his eyebrows and tried to think back to the first time Haru had made him feel loved.
Actually, it had happened before they had even started dating. It was sometime in their first year of highschool. Osamu was having a bad day as not only had it started raining after the forecast predicted sunshine, but he had also gotten reprimanded by a teacher who mistook him for Atsumu. Add to that the fact that he had gotten no less than 4 confessions from random girls that were meant for Atsumu, and it all left Osamu incredibly annoyed. He had been venting his frustrations to Haru during their lunch break when yet another girl confessed her undying love for Atsumu… to Osamu.
Haru had laughed at the whole ordeal and wondered why everyone kept confusing the twins. She had said “you two couldn’t be more different like spiders and bees” before listing off the many ways Osamu was different from Atsumu, starting from their senses of humor and ending with the different ways they liked to eat their pizza (Osamu was a folder while Atsumu was a giraffe). At the end of her long spiel, Osamu had asked her how she knew all those things about him, to which she had nonchalantly replied, “I dunno. I just do.”
It wasn’t an expressive or explicit declaration of love. Truthbetold, it wasn’t really a declaration of love at all. But it didn’t matter to Osamu because it was in that moment that he had realized how loved she made him feel and how much he loved her.
“Wow,” Mai replied, a pleasantly surprised smile on her lips and a dreamy tone in her voice. “So, she doesn’t have to do anything? You just know?”
“Yeah, I guess,” Osamu replied with a soft smile. Just then, Hiro returned from the kitchen where he had thrown away the vomit filled plastic bag. He plopped down in his seat in between the two girls and huffed, a light grimace on his face.
“She’s lucky that I love her,” Hiro muttered, making Yuna and Mai laugh. “So,” Hiro started, sitting up straight. “What did I miss?”
“Apparently Haru doesn’t have a love language,” Yuna replied, glancing at Osamu.
“Really?” Hiro replied, looking surprisedly at Osamu and Yuna.
“I guess?” Osamu responded.
“Like, not at all?”
“I don’t know,” Osamu insisted with a small scowl. “Why does it even matter?”
“Because,” Mai responded with a slight exasperation in her tone. “Apparently you and Haru are like on some telepathic wavelength where both just mutually “know” that you’re in love, while I can barely get Suna to make a definitive decision on where to go on a date.” Then, in an overly melodramatic plea, Mai begged, “I need to know your secrets.”
“Oh shit,” Yuu laughed. Then, he leaned over the table and said in a rather loud voice, “Hey, Suna! I think you’re in trouble!”
“What?” Suna replied, whipping his head around to look at the group sitting at the table. “Why? What did I do?”
“Absolutely nothing,” Mai called back, giving Suna a not so sweet and innocent smile. Osamu smirked at his teammate’s “deer in headlights” expression as Atsumu walked over to the table.
“Whatcha guys talking about?” Atsumu asked, pulling the bowl of pretzels closer to him and immediately popping several into his mouth.
“How Haru and Osamu are basically a perfect couple and don’t need words to express their love,” Yuna replied with a teasing smile at a blushing Osamu.
“Oh, you don’t know the half of it.” Atsumu popped another pretzel into his mouth. “Okay, so, Haru and I are like this, right?” Atsumu raised his hand and crossed his pointer and middle fingers tightly across one another. “And Osamu and I can basically read each other’s minds. But Haru and Osamu are on a completely different level with each other. And, honestly? It’s scary how in sync they are sometimes.”
“Interesting,” Hiro drawled out, looking straight at Osamu with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Then, do you guys wanna try a social experiment?”
“No. Not really,” Osamu replied, looking warily back at Hiro.
“What is it?” Mai continued, once again ignoring Osamu’s response.
“There was this video I saw where they took people and blindfolded them to see if they could pick out their significant other from a lineup. I’ve always wanted to try it out, and I think Haru and Osamu would be the perfect test subjects.”
“Yo, that sounds fun!” Yuna exclaimed before Osamu could expressly reject the idea. “I’ll get Haru.”
“No, wait,” Osamu objected. But Yuna had already jumped up from her chair and sped off to fetch his unwitting girlfriend.
“Well, this is either gonna end like a Nicholas Sparks movie or a Shakespearean tragedy,” Yuu chuckled, looking sympathetically at an already anxious Osamu.
“It’ll be fine,” Atsumu replied, clapping Osamu on the shoulder.
“Guys, knock it off,” Osamu shot back, slapping away Atsumu’s hand. “I’d really don’t want to mess with my relationship for a stupid social experiment.”
“It’ll be fine. Don’t worry!” Mai reassured. “Have some faith.”
“Yeah,” Atsumu teased, earning a dark glare from Osamu. “Don’t you trust Haru?”
Osamu opened his mouth to respond when Yuna reappeared, holding a necktie in one hand and dragging an utterly confused Haru behind her. Yumi closely followed the two girls, looking just as lost as to what was about to happen.
“Okay, stand up,” Yuna ordered, tugging Osamu up by his arm. “Up, up.”
“If you want to try this out so badly, then do it yourselves. Don’t drag us into this,” Osamu argued, standing up and moving next to Haru. Haru looked up at him and furrowed her eyebrows.
“I don’t get it,” Haru started, looking at Yuna.
“It’s an experiment,” Hiro replied with a devious smirk, standing up and walking around the table towards Haru and Osamu. “You’re a scientist, right, Haru? You like experiments.”
“I… guess?”
“You don’t have to,” Osamu quietly said, taking Haru’s hand into his own and giving it a squeeze. Haru looked blankly up to him and squeezed his hand three times before letting it go.
“Is it a weird experiment?” she asked, looking back to Hiro and Yuna.
“Not at all,” Yuna replied, taking a step towards Haru and lifting the necktie to her eyes. “We just want to see if you can pick Osamu out of a line up while blindfolded.”
“Oh. O...kay?” Haru hesitantly responded as she let the girl tie the necktie around her eyes. Yuna fastened it tightly, and Osamu gave a grand and defeated sigh. Hiro motioned Osamu over to him, and the boy begrudgingly complied.
“If we break up over this, I’m going to kill you,” Osamu quietly muttered to Hiro, making the boy laugh.
“It’ll be fine,” Hiro poorly reassured as he motioned Atsumu and Yuu over to him and Osamu. Hiro took a place to the left of an amused looking Atsumu. Osamu sighed once more, shook his head, and moved to stand on the other side of his brother. Yuu took a place on the other side of Osamu.
“Ready?” Yuna asked, turning a blindfolded Haru around to face the line up of boys.
“No,” Osamu replied, scowling at the laughing girl.
“Perfect.” Yuna guided Haru to stand in front of Hiro, and Osamu glanced around the room to find that everyone’s attention had focused on Hiro’s little experiment.
Suddenly, Osamu felt his heart speed up and an uncomfortable sweat break out on his palms. He looked to Haru and took in the tenseness in her shoulders and the small frown on her lips. And, while he couldn’t see her eyes, Osamu was sure she was both bewildered and unsure.
“What’s going on?” Osamu turned his head to see Suna walking up to him.
“Shh,” Mai hushed, grabbing Suna’s arm, tugging him towards her, and shoving him in between Atsumu and Hiro. Then, she turned to Haru and tapped her shoulder. “Okay, you can start now.”
“Oh, okay,” Haru replied. At the tone of her words, Osamu was absolutely convinced that Haru was totally and completely confused as to what was happening.
Slowly, Haru put her arms out in front of her and blindly felt around the air, taking a small step forwards until her hand touched Hiro’s shoulder. She patted it twice and slowly trailed her hands up his neck and onto his face. Osamu watched as Hiro curled his lips inward in an attempt to suppress his laughter as Haru ran her hands across his cheeks. She pursed her lips into a small frown and continued to trace Hiro’s features with her fingers, humming softly to herself the whole while. At her actions, Osamu smirked to himself as he could all but see the wheels turning in her mind. Then, she cupped Hiro’s face, paused for a moment, and took a step back while shaking her head.
“Mm-mm,” she quietly hummed. Hiro’s eyebrows shot up and he whipped his head towards Osamu, grinning like a madman. Osamu glared harshly at the boy, but felt a small drop of relief in his heart. But that relief was quickly replaced with anxiety when Yuna moved Haru in front of Suna.
Much like with Hiro, Haru gingerly felt around in the air until she found Suna’s shoulder. She trailed her fingers down his arms, and Suna looked at Osamu with a pleading look in his eyes. Osamu took a deep breath, trying to quell the growing worry that clouded his mind. Haru’s fingers brushed against Suna’s hand, and she took it into her own. She ran her thumbs across his palms and smiled amusedly to herself as she shook her head.
“Mm-mm,” she hummed, dropping Suna’s hand and taking a step back. Suna let out a sigh of relief and took a step back himself, glancing at Osamu with an exhausted look. Osamu smirked and shook his head incredulously as Mai positioned Haru in front of Atsumu. Atsumu bumped Osamu’s shoulder and gave his brother a smug smile at which Osamu scowled.
Haru reached out her hands, and Atsumu took a tiny step closer until Haru’s hand brushed his chest. Atsumu harshly bit his bottom lip, desperately trying not to break out into laughter at the ridiculousness of the situation, and Osamu rolled his eyes in exasperation. As Haru ran her fingers up Atsumu’s arm, Osamu looked around and saw everyone hyper fixated on her. Giving a grand sigh, Osamu looked back to his girlfriend and tiredly watched her try to figure out who was standing in front of her.
She traced her fingers along Atsumu’s jaw and ran them over his cheeks and up the bridge of his nose. Osamu watched as she pursed her lips and cocked her head to the side. And, although her eyes were covered, Osamu knew that they were filled with confusion and concentration. Her touch lingered on Atsumu’s cheek before she moved her hand to his shoulders and down his arms to his hands. She brought his hand up and ran her thumb across his knuckles before turning it over and doing the same to his palms.
Then, she brought his hand up to her cheek and pressed it to his palm. Osamu felt his breath catch in his throat, and Atsumu whipped his head towards his twin, a look of absolute regret etched into his features. But Osamu was too focused on Haru to notice. Time seemed to come to a grinding halt, and when Haru nuzzled her cheek further into Atsumu’s hand, Osamu’s heart started beating erratically in his chest. Atsumu stared worriedly at Haru, his shoulders tense, his jaw clenched, and his eyes wide with fear and apprehension. The whole room seemed to be holding its breath as the seconds dragged by. Then, finally, after what seemed like an eternity of excruciatingly painful tension, Haru dropped Atsumu’s hand, shook her head, and pouted dejectedly.
“Mm-mm,” she hummed again, taking a step back. Osamu breathed a sigh of relief and looked at Atsumu who had a pleadingly apologetic look in his eyes. Osamu narrowed his eyes at his brother, and Atsumu winced while mouthing an “I’m sorry”.
“Okay then,” Yuna murmured, moving Haru to stand in front of Osamu. Yuna looked up excitedly at Osamu, but Osamu only scowled at her. Quickly, Osamu glanced around the room and saw that everyone had a similarly excited look in their eyes. He gave yet another sigh as he turned his attention back to his girlfriend.
Haru took a step forward and held her hand out, finding Osamu’s shoulder and moving her hand up his neck and onto his cheeks. She pursed her lips as she gently cupped his face and ran her thumb along his cheeks. At her touch, Osamu gave a soft smile. Then, much to his surprise, the tiniest smile graced her lips as well that made his heart skip a beat. Haru’s hand lingered for just a moment longer before trailing her fingers down Osamu’s arm.
Her hand soon found his, and she pressed her palm against his, lacing their fingers together and making Osamu grin like the lovestruck idiot he was. As Haru’s hand fit perfectly snug in Osamu’s, the smile on her lips grew bright and beautiful. She bounced lightly on the balls of her feet and squeezed Osamu’s hand three times. And when Osamu squeezed back once, Haru gave a short and excited laugh before jumping forwards and throwing her arms around him.
“This one,” she said, burying her face in the crook of his neck. “I choose this one.”
Osamu laughed and wrapped his arms around her, lifting her off her feet as he pulled her into a bear hug. An indescribably wonderful warmness exploded in Osamu’s heart as he gently swung her around, and the sound of her laughter sang like Christmas bells in his ears. Excited chatter and laughter broke out around the room. When Osamu put her back on the ground, Haru leaned back slightly and tilted her face up to Osamu, her arms wrapped around his neck.
“Did I win?” she quietly asked, that smile Osamu loved so much on her lips. Osamu gently tugged the necktie up to her forehead and locked eyes with hers a moment later. She beamed up at him, and he laughed at the proud and excited look in her eyes.
“I think I won,” Osamu whispered as he leaned forwards and pressed a soft kiss to her lips. He felt Haru tap the back of his head three times, and he gave a breathy laugh as he pressed his forehead to hers. “I love you too.”
“Guys.” Osamu looked up to see Yuna and Mai buzzing with excitement and joy. “Oh my god, that was so cute! Ahh! My heart!” Yuna dramatically clutched her heart and fell against Mai for support.
“Okay, be honest, Haru” Mai started as Haru released Osamu to turn and face Mai. But Osamu kept his arms around her. “You could see through the blindfold, right?”
“Nu-uh,” Haru replied, placing her hands on Osamu’s arms and swaying gently side to side in his embrace. “I was closing my eyes and everything. I’m a good scientist. None of that questionable research practices bullshit.”
“Yeah, I don’t believe you,” Hiro replied with an incredulous smile and shake of his head. “You could totally see through it.”
“Nu-uh!” Haru insisted, pulling away from Osamu’s grasp and taking the necktie off her head. She quickly untangled it and held it up to Hiro’s eyes. “You try and see!”
“Oh, no, no. I’m good.” Hiro grabbed Haru’s wrists and leaned back as Haru laughed and pressed forwards.
“I think it’s only fair,” Osamu insisted, feeling incredibly vindicated by Hiro’s discomfort.
“Come on, Hiro,” Yumi chimed in with a devilish smirk. “I wanna see if we have a cosmic connection too.”
“Me next,” Mai said, smirking at a horrified looking Suna.
“Me too!” Yuna exclaimed, clinging onto Yuu’s arm. Yuu and Suna exchanged terrified glances before looking at a smug Osamu.
All around the room the rest of the girlfriends also asked to be part of the experiment, much to the dismay of all their partners. Osamu laughed at the sullen looks of the partners that contrasted with the excited glee of their respective girlfriends.
“Oh boy. Looks like you two started something,” Atsumu quietly commented to Osamu as Haru tied the necktie around Hiro’s eyes. “I have a feeling a lot of people are gonna be in trouble tonight.”
“Serves them right,” Osamu replied with a smirk. He watched as Haru finished blindfolding Hiro, smiling when she waved her hands in front of his eyes and nodding with approval when he didn’t react.
“Okay, now all the girls line up!” Yuna ordered. As instructed, all the girls quickly formed a line in front of Hiro, Yumi settling in somewhere towards the middle and laughing hysterically the whole while.
“Okay, before we start,” Hiro said as Yuu guided him in front of the first girl. “I apologize for any accidental boob touches, and please, please don’t hate me Yumi. I love you dearly and this isn’t a testament to our relationship in any way, shape, or form.”
“Just shut up and go, you dork,” Yumi laughed. Hiro gave a defeated sigh and Osamu laughed as Haru came to stand in front of him.
Osamu wrapped his arms around Haru and rested his chin on the top of her head. He watched amusedly as Hiro hesitantly reached out to find the first girl and smirked when the boy instantly recoiled the second his hand brushed against the girl’s shoulder.
“I hate this!” Hiro exclaimed, making the room erupt into laughter.
“Oh, be a man,” Atsumu said as he walked behind Hiro and pushed the boy forwards. “I’m sure Yumi won’t break up with you over this. Probably.”
Hiro started once more and Osamu looked on in complete amusement. Suddenly, Haru craned her neck back to look up at Osamu. He gazed down softly at her, and she beamed up at him before he leaned down and gently pecked her lips.
“Okay, I gotta know,” Osamu quietly started, resting his chin on her shoulder and pulling her flush against his chest. “How did you know it was me?”
“I dunno,” Haru easily confessed with a shrug. “I just did.”
“I guess it’s just our love language then,” Osamu laughed.
So I go to the same Starbucks every morning and order the same thing. And this morning I go and the barista is like “good morning! Venti ice americano right?”
And I’m shocked but also super embarrassed, so all I can manage is “oh, lord, do I really come here that often?” So we get to chatting and the barista gave me a free cheese danish and asked for my name and wrote me a little note on my coffee. And I’m just.... oh boy....
Gods she was so cute but also, I’m living in a coffee shop AU and don’t know how to feel about that lmao
Summary: Oikawa had a goal and a laid out path to get there. School, Nationals, University, Pro Team. No matter what happened, he never strayed from this path. Until the day of his accident. Suddenly, he was lost, unsure of how he would reach the goal he had spent his whole life working towards. Then he met you. And you taught him that getting lost didn’t mean you couldn’t find your way back. And that, sometimes, it made the journey that much better.
Author: SleepDeprivedIdiot
MasterList
SleepDeprivedIdiot MasterList
Trigger warning: Reader’s discretion is advised
Chapter 20 >> Chapter 21: Unfair and Unjust
“You okay?” Oikawa asked Iwaizumi as the two boys approached Toshi, Oikawa’s older brother’s, front door. Iwaizumi looked down at his feet and stayed silent a moment before slowly nodding.
“Yeah, I’m good,” the ace replied.
“Okay,” Oikawa started, shifting his backpack slightly, raising his hand, and rapping his knuckles against the cold, wooden door. “Lemme know if you need anything.”
“I will, thanks.”
The boys waited a few seconds before the door opened to reveal a slightly disheveled looking Toshi wearing an old t-shirt and black sweatpants. Oikawa gave a small smirk at his brother’s appearance, to which Toshi scowled at.
“Shut up, I just had a wrestling match to get Takeru to sleep,” Toshi harshly whispered as he ran his fingers through his messy hair. “So, I beg of you, please don’t wake him up.”
“We’ll try not to,” Oikawa chuckled, moving past Toshi and entering the warmth of his house. A faint smell of cinnamon and chocolate wafted through the air and, as Oikawa kicked his shoes off, he figured that his brother must have made hot chocolate at some point. Iwaizumi followed Oikawa inside, taking off his shoes and moving past the setter.
“Let’s talk in the dining room,” Toshi quietly said, shutting the door softly and motioning the boys towards the room. The three shuffled along, trying their best not to make the wooden floors creak under their feet, lest they wake Oikawa’s hyperactive nephew.
“Is Yuna-san asleep?” Oikawa asked in a low voice as the three walked through the kitchen and into the living room.
“Nah, she’s still at the firm,” Toshi replied, moving towards a seat on the other side of a round, glass table. “They’ve got a big case coming up in a couple days, so she’s reviewing all the evidence with her team.”
“Jeeze,” Iwaizumi said as he took a seat across from Toshi. “Being a lawyer sounds rough.”
“It can be,” Toshi chuckled, quietly scooching his seat forwards until his stomach was nearly touching the edge of the table. “But it’s rewarding.”
“Does Yuna-san practice family law too?”
“Civil.”
“Oh, cool.” Oikawa shrugged his backpack off and placed it on the table as he took a seat next to Iwaizumi. Once situated, Oikawa looked at his brother to see the man staring intently his way. As a tense silence settled in the room, Oikawa shifted uncomfortably in his seat and took a deep breath to calm his frayed nerves.
“Can I see the picture?” Toshi finally asked, nodding towards the backpack.
Oikawa bit his lip and stared at his backpack, suddenly feeling very exposed and very vulnerable. He seriously contemplated just saying no and leaving, not wanting to see the picture again or retell his story about how he got it. Then, he felt a nudge at his arm, and he looked to see Iwaizumi giving a reassuring look. Taking a deep breath, Oikawa nodded slightly and zipped open his backpack.
He slowly reached inside and pulled out the manila envelope that the picture had been delivered in. When his eyes landed on his name inscribed on the letter, he frowned and turned it upside down before sliding it towards Toshi. As the man took it from his younger brother, he spoke.
“If you want, you can step out while I look at it,” Toshi gently offered. Oikawa looked at him and stared for a moment, considering Toshi’s suggestion.
“It’s okay,” Oikawa finally replied, mustering up as much courage as he could to stay and listen to what his brother had to say.
“Alright.” With that, Toshi picked up the envelope, opened it, and slipped the picture out. Oikawa watched his face carefully, looking for any kind of reaction or emotion. But Toshi’s face remained blank and untelling.
Toshi stared at the picture a long while, and Oikawa swore he could see the gears turning in his brother’s head. Anxiety started to well up inside Oikawa the longer Toshi remained silent, and the setter silently drummed his fingers on the smooth, glass surface. He glanced at Iwaizumi and saw his friend staring diligently down at his lap, a hard frown on his lips. Gingerly, Oikawa tapped Iwaizumi’s shin with his foot, and the ace looked towards him. Oikawa gave a small smile, trying to comfort his friend as best as he could, and Iwaizumi returned a just barely discernible smile.
“Is this the only copy you have?” Toshi finally asked. Oikawa looked at his brother and saw that he was closing the envelope.
“Yeah,” the setter quietly responded with a nod. Toshi folded his hands and rested them on top of the envelope as he stared at his brother.
“I’m glad you came to me. I think you did the right thing,” Toshi stated in a matter-of-fact tone.
“Yeah,” Oikawa replied, slumping down slightly in his chair. He stared at Toshi’s hands, not wanting to meet his brother’s gaze, and wondered what his brother could possibly be thinking at that moment about you.
“I’m sorry that this is happening.” At that, Oikawa flicked his eyes up to meet his brother’s. But Toshi’s face was still devoid of any emotion. “How’re you holding up?”
“I’m…” Oikawa started, looking away again. He frantically tried to come up with a word that encapsulated everything that he was feeling in that moment. But when none came to mind that satisfied him, Oikawa said, “I don’t know.”
“That’s okay,” Toshi reassured. Then, Toshi looked to Iwaizumi. “What about you?”
“Same,” the ace blankly replied. Oikawa glanced at his friend and saw that he was looking down at his lap again.
“I’m sorry, guys.” Oikawa looked back to his brother and, for the first time since they sat down, he saw some kind of emotion in Toshi’s eyes. “This is…” A pause. “Not something that any of you should have to go through.”
“Yeah,” was the only response Oikawa could manage to give.
“Normally, in a situation like this, I would give my client a spiel on various ways to potentially handle the situation,” Toshi said, taking control of the conversation. It was at that moment that Oikawa felt overwhelming gratitude that his brother seemed to be calm and composed while Oikawa was definitely not. “But, since you guys aren’t clients, I’m going to be brutally honest with you about what I think is probably going to happen based on similar cases my colleagues and I have handled.”
“Okay,” Oikawa quietly replied, folding his hands together and squeezing them hard.
“Do you know exactly how old y/n was in that picture?” Oikawa furrowed his eyebrows at the question.
“13 or 14,” the setter replied. “It depends on how late into the school year because her birthday is a little later than everyone else’s.” Toshi exhaled sharply.
“I figured,” Toshi quietly said, more to himself than to the boys. His next question, however, was directed to Oikawa. “Do you know the man in the picture?”
“No, I don’t recognize him.” A pause.
“I can’t say for sure, but, he looks like he’s in his 20s at least.” Oikawa nodded in agreement. Toshi paused once more and mashed his lips together in a hard line as he shook his head. He sighed. “There are some things that I need to explain that are going to happen now. It’s not gonna be easy to take in, but I need you to listen carefully. Okay?”
“Okay,” Oikawa hesitantly responded, suddenly regretting coming to Toshi.
“Okay,” Toshi started before pausing. He sat back and crossed his arms, taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly before continuing. “Firstly, and I know this isn’t something you want to hear, I have to report this to the police.”
“Wait, what?” Oikawa exclaimed a little too loudly, earning a hush from Toshi. “Why? No, you can’t.”
“Toru,” Toshi sternly replied, “As a lawyer, I am bound by an ethical code that obligates me to report any knowledge I may have of child abuse. It goes beyond just potentially losing my license to practice, this is for y/n’s safety and the safety of everyone around her.”
“No, no, you can’t,” Oikawa said, a flood of dread and regret crashing around him until he could barely take a breath. “Please, Toshi, you can’t.”
“I’m sorry, bro,” Toshi replied, his words full of sympathy. “This isn’t up for debate. I have to.”
“That’s-- I would’ve never come to you if I knew,” Oikawa retorted, desperately trying to calm his erratically beating heart. “I--”
“Oikawa,” Iwaizumi interjected. Oikawa looked to his friend and saw that he was giving him a hard look that stopped the setter in his tracks. Then, Iwaizumi turned to Toshi. “What happens next?”
“Next?” Toshi started before pausing to give a deep sigh. “Next, the police are gonna wanna talk to y/n about it. There’ll be an investigation, no doubt, but after that…” Toshi trailed off at the end with a hint of something in his tone.
“After that?” Iwaizumi pushed.
“After that, it gets complicated.”
“What do you mean?” Toshi paused for a moment and pursed his lips before turning to his brother.
“Miyagi has its own laws regarding age of consent, which is why I have to report it, but the national age of consent in Japan is 13 so, by national Japanese law, you could argue that no crime took place in regards to having sex with an underaged person. Add to that the evidence of drugs and alcohol in the photo… I don’t know if the courts will convict.”
“What?” Iwaizumi, this time, exclaimed. Oikawa looked surprisedly at his friend as Iwaizumi continued. “How? That makes no sense. You saw the picture, there’s no way that y/n could’ve consented.”
“And I absolutely, wholeheartedly agree with you,” Toshi started in a strong and resolute tone to try and calm the angry boy. “But, current legal standards put the burden of proof on the victim to prove that they were forced to comply beyond a reasonable doubt. There’s also a strong cultural component that shames victims, even those who aren’t under the influence. Given y/n’s age at the time and the circumstances shown in the picture… I don’t think the courts will return a guilty verdict.” A pause. “It’s unfair and unjust, I know. Trust me, I know. I’ve lost way too many cases because of it. I hate it more than you guys probably do.”
There was a short pause as Toshi looked carefully at the two, stunned boys. Then, he continued. “There was a case in Nagoya recently where a father was acquitted of sexually abusing his adolescent daughter despite the overwhelming physical evidence. The court ruled that the prosecution couldn’t prove that the daughter had no choice but to submit to the abuse, even though the court recognized that it was non-consensual and that the father had used force.”
At that, Oikawa’s thoughts snapped back to Iwaizumi’s story, and he looked to Iwaizumi and saw a complex mix of emotions clouding his friend’s features. Seeing it made Oikawa’s heart ache as Toshi continued to speak.
“I could spend all night going into the politics and shit laws that perpetuate these scenarios. Not to mention societal pressures and stigmas against victims. Nearly 60% don’t even report it because of these things. Fortunately, some municipalities passed their own laws on the matter, like Tokyo where the age of consent is now 18. Miyagi has some too, but they’re… obscure.”
“What do you mean “obscure”?” Oikawa finally spoke up.
“It means that, while they do protect minors in a lot of situations like child neglect and physical abuse, they are just vague enough to be manipulated to let people off statut --” Toshi immediately stopped, shutting his mouth tightly and curling his lips inward. But the damage had been done.
Oikawa’s heart dropped into his stomach and a cold sweat broke out all over his body. A deathly silence fell over the three boys as Oikawa drowned in a tempest of horrid and heart stopping emotions. Thankfully, the silence didn’t last too long as Toshi slowly and carefully continued.
“I’m telling you these things because I don’t want you guys to be too shocked or surprised if this guy gets away with just a slap on the wrist. Especially if the guy has a good lawyer and no priors. It’s horrible and as much as I hate it, it’s a very plausible and upsettingly realistic situation, and I’m so, so sorry.”
There was a pregnant pause as Oikawa tried to claw his way back to reality. Then, Iwaizumi spoke and brought Oikawa just barely back to the present.
“What would you do? Do you think she should press charges?” Iwaizumi asked.
“That’s not something that I can answer,” Toshi started with a sad sigh. “Like I said before, I’m not her lawyer, and I can’t give legal advice to anyone who isn’t my client.”
“Can you be her lawyer?” Toshi stayed silent and stared at the table, his eyebrows furrowed and lips pursed.
“I don’t know if that’s a great idea. There’s a conflict of interest, and I’m not sure if I can stay impartial to act in her best interest. But, if she decides to press charges, I have colleagues at the firm who would happily take the case on pro bono.”
“And if she doesn’t? Wanna press charges.”
“There’ll still be a police investigation since I’m assuming this took place in Miyagi. The police will wanna talk with her. And I’m sure they’re going to want to talk to Ai about it too to question her involvement in the whole situation.” At the mention of Ai’s name, an anger exploded in Oikawa that threatened to break forward and take control. But he fought it back as best as he could while Toshi continued. “I’m sorry, guys. I know this wasn’t what you wanted to hear, but I didn’t want to sugarcoat it and give you false hope. Things like these, they don’t just go away and they rarely go the way they should.”
“So, what,” Oikawa said, desperately trying to keep his tone even and controlled. “Her life is gonna be torn apart by a police investigation that she doesn’t want to happen for something she just wants to forget about?”
“I don’t know, Toru,” Toshi replied with a pained voice. “I really don’t. I wish to god that I could give you an answer, but I just don’t have one. I’m sorry.”
“Do these things happen a lot?” Iwaizumi asked before Oikawa could say something that he would, inevitably, regret.
“More than I care to admit,” Toshi responded in a defeated tone. “Yuna deals with a lot of these cases when politicians and CEOs are involved. Things are getting better, though. There are huge groups of activists lobbying for Japan to raise their age of consent, and create laws to give more protection to victims and impose harsher punishments for perpetrators. Change is coming, it’s just hard to tell when it’s gonna happen.”
“That’s good…” A pause. “So, what should we do now?”
“Now? Now, you guys need to go home and decompress. You look exhausted, and I’m sure you’re emotionally raw. Then, tomorrow, talk to y/n and try to convince her to come talk to me. Explain to her that I won’t be able to give her any legal advice since I’m not her lawyer, but I can still talk to her to explain the process as best as I can and get her in touch with someone else at my firm if she wants that.”
Oikawa felt a tap to his leg and looked to Iwaizumi. The ace looked back with furrowed eyebrows and a firm look in his eyes that Oikawa took in and let guide his decisions. Taking in a deep breath, Oikawa turned back towards his brother.
“Okay.”
“Wait until tomorrow,” Toshi insisted. “It’s not gonna be an easy conversation, so you two should be mentally and emotionally prepared for however she is going to react. Make a plan and stick with it as best as you can. It’ll help, trust me.”
“Okay.”
“I’m so sorry, guys,” Toshi started, looking sorrowfully at his brother and Iwaizumi. “I wish that I could do this for you.”
“No, we should do it,” Oikawa said, glancing at Iwaizumi. The ace gave a short nod before Oikawa looked back to his brother and continued. “It’ll be easier for her to talk to people she knows first.” Toshi gave a sad smile.
“Yeah, I know. I just… I wish it didn’t have to be this way. You’re too young to have to deal with something like this by yourselves.”
“We have you,” Oikawa offered with a small smile, a touch of relief and love spreading across his heart like a drop of cold water on a harsh burn. Toshi returned Oikawa’s smile with a smile of his own.
“You do, and don’t you forget it.” A pause. “Try to convince her to talk to me. Don’t press too hard, but let her know that I want to help and make things easier for her.”
“We will. Thanks.”
“Of course.”
Toshi glanced between the two boys with the look of a proud, older brother in his eyes.
“Wait here,” Toshi said, standing up and quickly making his way into the kitchen. Oikawa and Iwaizumi sat in silence for a few moments before Oikawa turned to his friend.
“Are you okay?” Iwaizumi looked at Oikawa, exhaustion written all over his features.
“Getting there.” Oikawa quirked his lips to the side and gave a small sigh.
“Thanks for coming. I don’t think I could’ve done this alone...I’m sure this can’t be easy for you.”
“I don’t think it’ll ever get “easy”,” Iwaizumi started with a small, wry smile. “But if I can help y/n so she doesn’t have to go through what I did, then it’ll be worth it.”
“Thank you,” Oikawa said, emotions welling up inside of him. It wasn’t until that moment that Oikawa realized just how strong, reliable, and caring his friend was both on the court and outside of it. And that realization quelled the anguish inside of Oikawa as he knew he wouldn’t have to shoulder this burden alone. “Thank you. I don’t know what I could ever do to thank you enough.”
“Well,” Iwaizumi started with a smirk. “You can start by paying for pizza tonight.” At that, Oikawa broke out into an amused smile and soft laughter, instantly lightening the heaviness in Oikawa’s heart.
“I can do that.”
Toshi returned a few minutes later to find Oikawa and Iwaizumi talking about what movies they should watch when they got home. In his hands, he held three steaming mugs of hot chocolate topped with cinnamon sticks. The three boys chatted for a little while longer about this and that, dutifully avoiding the topic they had spent the last hour discussing.
Toshi asked about the tournament and university, and the boys asked Toshi questions about Takeru’s interest in volleyball and the trip his family was about to take to Tokyo. Oikawa strongly suggested visiting the teamLab Borderless museum, and Iwaizumi showed pictures from their own trip to Tokyo. By the end of the conversation, Oikawa felt as though their previous talk had happened a lifetime ago.
Oikawa and Iwaizumi departed once they had finished their hot chocolate, leaving Toshi with many thanks, grateful hugs, and the envelope with the picture. On the way back to Oikawa’s house, the boys stopped by a 24 hour convenience store to buy frozen pizzas and other snacks. Their journey back wasn’t exactly chatter-filled, but it wasn’t completely silent either. They made comments here and there about how to talk to you and what to say, but ultimately decided to talk more about it in the morning after they got some sleep (or as much sleep as they could get).
When they got back to Oikawa’s house, it was a quarter until 11pm. Luckily, Oikawa’s parents were already asleep, so he didn’t have to explain to them why the boys were so late or why they had gone to see Toshi. Pizzas were heated up and eaten just 30 minutes later, and a mountain of pillows and blankets littered Oikawa’s room’s floor as the boys laid and watched Rush Hour. They originally planned to watch a zombie movie, but opted at the last minute to watch an action/comedy to try and lighten their moods enough to fall asleep. So far, it seemed to be working as they laughed at the ridiculous fight scenes and jokes.
Iwaizumi and Oikawa sat shoulder to shoulder, leaning against Oikawa’s bed. There was a large blanket covering both boys, and Oikawa had his blanket, the one that you had slept with in Tokyo, around his shoulders. About halfway into the movie, Oikawa felt his phone buzz, and he took it out to see a text from you. And, much to his surprise, he barely felt a flicker of emotion in his exhausted body and mind.
Look, look! -- You. Attached to your text was an array of messy, multi-colored cupcakes decorated with sprinkles and glitter. Oikawa smiled at the image, tapped Iwaizumi’s shoulder, and showed his friend the picture. Iwaizumi chuckled lightly before Oikawa brought his phone back and responded.
Ohh, looks good. Wish I could’ve been there -- Oikawa.
I’ll save one for you! Wanna come over tomorrow? -- You. Now, at that, Oikawa felt his heart jump a little and a touch of anxiety creep into his chest. With unsure and hesitant fingers, he slowly typed out a response.
Sounds good, see you tomorrow -- Oikawa. Then, Oikawa bit his bottom lip and typed out a text that he had, truthfully, hoped to say in person for the first time.
I love you -- Oikawa. He held his breath as he waited for your response. And when it came, he scoffed, an amused smirk on his lips.
Awe, I love me too! -- You. A moment later, you sent a picture of a defeated Makki with a smashed cupcake on his head and an annoyed looking Mattsun with bright blue frosting smeared all over his cheek. Oikawa laughed at the image and showed Iwaizumi who smirked and shook his head incredulously.
“Looks like they had fun,” Iwaizumi commented.
“I’m sure she had fun,” Oikawa responded with a chuckle, setting his phone down on the blanket next to him. There was a moment of silence as the image of Makki and Mattsun stayed in the forefront of Oikawa’s mind. Then, he turned to Iwaizumi.
“Do you think we should tell the guys?” Oikawa asked. Iwaizumi stared blankly at him for a few seconds before slowly shaking his head.
“Not yet,” Iwaizumi slowly started. “They tend to freak out when it comes to anything bad happening to her. And, speaking from experience--” Oikawa felt a pang in his heart as Iwaizumi’s face fell. “The last thing she needs is someone freaking out on her.”
“That’s…” Oikawa trailed off, searching for the words to say. “You’re right.”
“Yeah.” Iwaizumi turned his attention back to the TV, and Oikawa looked down at his hands.
“Should we go talk to her in the morning?” Oikawa asked, looking back at Iwaizumi. “Together?” Iwaizumi stayed silent, his gaze towards the TV but still a million miles away.
“I think we should have Hina do it.”
“What? Why?”
“Because… she’s a girl… and we’re guys…” Iwaizumi turned to Oikawa and frowned. “You know?”
“Oh,” Oikawa quietly replied. “Yeah, I get it.”
“Yeah, we can meet up with her in the morning and explain.” Iwaizumi looked up to the ceiling, took in a deep breath, and slowly let it out. “We can hang out in the area while they’re talking and stay close.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
Iwaizumi continued to stare solemnly at the ceiling, and Oikawa looked worriedly and sadly at his friend. It wasn’t too often that Iwaizumi let his emotions show as much as they did in that moment, so, when Oikawa saw it, he knew that his friend was hurting. Immensely. Oikawa wanted to say something, anything, but he couldn’t figure out the words. Nothing seemed good enough to Oikawa, and that realization made him worry about how he was going to talk to you and be there for you. Then, he remembered what Iwaizumi had said before.
“What can I do?” Oikawa gingerly asked, making Iwaizumi look absentmindedly at the setter. Oikawa gave a small smile. “To help. What can I do?”
“I don’t know,” Iwaizumi quietly responded, dropping his head and staring down at the blanket on his lap. “I just…” Then, in a barely audible voice, Iwaizumi said, “hurt.”
Oikawa’s heart shattered.
“I’m so sorry,” Oikawa whispered, placing a gentle hand on Iwaizumi’s shoulder. But, at the touch, Iwaizumi stiffened a little, and Oikawa quickly retracted his hand. “My bad.”
“It’s fine,” Iwaizumi replied, giving Oikawa a tiny smile before looking away again. “You’re good.”
“Do you wanna talk about it?”
“Not really.” A pause. “Sorry.”
“No, don’t apologize. I get it.” Oikawa leaned forwards until he was Iwaizumi’s line of sight and gave the ace as best a smile as he could. “I’m here for you. You know that right?”
Iwaizumi gave a small smile. “Yeah, I know. Thanks.”
“So,” Oikawa started, sitting up straight and choosing to change the topic to something he had been meaning to ask for a while. “Sora?” Iwaizumi looked at Oikawa, a light dusting of pink on his cheeks that made the setter smirk.
“What about him?” Iwaizumi said, his signature scowl on his face.
“Are you guys a thing?”
“No,” Iwaizumi quickly replied, turning away. But Oikawa could see the tips of his friend’s ears turning a bright red. Then, in a quiet voice, Iwaizumi said, “Not yet.”
“Shut up,” Iwaizumi shot back, scowling harshly at Oikawa as his cheeks turned a deeper shade of pink. “Shithead.”
“No need to be hostile,” Oikawa chuckled, holding his hands up in front of him. “Does anyone else know?”
“Y/n,” Iwaizumi replied, quirking his lips to the side. Oikawa smiled and slowly lowered his hands into his lap. “She figured it out fast… She’s too smart for her own good.”
“Yeah,” Oikawa said in an almost dreamy tone. “She is. She’s… something else.”
“Wow,” Iwaizumi responded with a shit-eating smirk. “You really love her, don’t you?” Then, it was Oikawa’s turn to fall into a blushing mess. But he just laughed it off as he replied.
“Yeah, I really do.”
The boys spent the rest of the night teasing each other relentlessly and, by the end of it, they were both a blushing, happy mess. Oikawa fell asleep with a smile on his lips and a renewed resolve in his heart to love you for the rest of his life.
When he woke the next morning, he found Iwaizumi curled up around his arm with a serene and tranquil look on his face. Oikawa let his friend stay in a land of dreams where there was no pain and only peace, and the setter felt happy that he could make his friend feel safe and secure even if just for a night.
And, when Iwaizumi finally woke, the two boys cleaned up and called Hina to meet them at a cafe near your apartment.
______
A/N: You can read more about the mentioned case here
Summary: What happens when you take a kid and force them to be a villain? Chaos. Chaos is what happens.
Author: SleepDeprivedIdiot
Fiction MasterList
SleepDeprivedIdiot MasterList
_._._._._._._._.
Chapter 2 >> Chapter 3: Merry Christmas
The Kid sat up straight and stretched out his neck, giving a huge yawn in the process. He pulled the blankets draped over his shoulders tighter around him and huffed as he focused his gaze back on the laptop. The cold air of the factory had made his cheeks, nose, and ears numb and bright red, and his breath came out in wispy, white clouds. He brought his hands up to his lips and blew hot air into them before returning them to his computer keys.
“Oh where, or where is this person’s file, oh where, oh where can it be?” The Kid mumbled his lyrics to the children’s song as he opened another file out of the hundred sets of files in the folder he was in. “Da-da, da-da, da-da-da, da-da…”.
Another hour came and went before The Kid puffed out his cheeks and leaned away from his computer. Absentmindedly, he brought one arm out from under the blankets, shivering slightly as the cold air seeped through the sleeve of his hoodie, reached into his pocket dimension, felt around, and pulled out a candy bar. He quickly brought his arm back under the blanket and slowly unwrapped the candy.
“This is ridiculous,” The Kid spat before taking an angry bite of the candybar. “It’s like this Angel person never existed.”
It had been a little over three weeks since The Kid had uploaded Wormy 6.9 to the Commission’s secure server. Since then, he had spent all of his free time scouring through thousands of files that pertained to everything from new hero licenses trainees to grisly, secret murder investigations.
The original plan when uploading Wormy 6.9 was to find everything he could about one particular case that he most definitely was not obsessed with, but he had been running a parallel search for information about a person named Angel whose file he had found hidden within Hawk’s hidden files. The Kid had no vested interest in finding this Angel other than the fact that he was beyond curious as to why the Commission tried so hard to hide Angel’s personnel file.
Suddenly, a notification popped up in the upper, right hand corner of his screen that indicated that his program had finished searching through another 200 files for the main file The Kid was searching for. The Kid stared at the notification for a moment, his cursor hovering over it.
“If it found something, then I’ll have pancakes for dinner. If not, I’ll have ramen for dinner,” The Kid decided. Giving a prayer that he would get to have pancakes, The Kid clicked on the notification and shut his eyes. A second later, he peaked one eye open, and his heart skipped a beat as an ecstatic grin spread on his lips. “Damn, I’m good.”
His program had identified one file that contained some of the keywords The Kid had set as a parameter for the search: fire, Takayama, Gifu-prefecture. Giving himself one more accolade, he double clicked on the file. When it opened, his grin immediately turned into a scowl, and he gave a defeated sigh. The file was of a news article about the incident in the small town in the countryside of Japan.
“Fantastic,” The Kid grumbled. He set the half-eaten candy bar down, reached into his pocket dimension, and pulled out a worn, leather bound notebook.
He gently set it down next to his laptop and stared at it a long while. Giving a deep frown and another sigh, he opened the book to the first page. On it, there was a picture of a happy, little family on a picnic. The mother wore a white and yellow-polka dot sundress and the father had on khaki shorts and a polo. Sat in the middle of the two were their two children. One wore a green beanie and hoodie, and the other was The Kid.
“Hey, fam,” The Kid whispered, running his finger along the edge of the photo. “Hope you’re well.”
He gave the picture one last look and a small, sad smile before turning to a bookmarked page. Pasted on it was the same exact article The Kid had just found. His eyes roamed over the words he had read over a hundred times over the past year before settling on the grainy picture of a burned down house.
“What’s that?”
The Kid shrieked and jumped, falling off the wooden boxes he was sitting on and hitting the floor with a loud crash. Wincing harshly, he looked up and saw a smug Hawks smirking down at him with his hands on his hips.
“What the fuck,” The Kid spat, throwing Hawks a glare as he slowly stood up and pulled his blankets tighter around him. “How did you find me?”
“Because I’m smarter than you are,” Hawks replied, still smirking. The Kid stared blankly at him for a long moment and, when Hawks nodded towards the laptop, The Kid sighed.
“You found Wormy, figured out he came from my report that got uploaded, tracked it back to my IP address, then did a back search to find my location based on the WiFi signal I was bumming off of when I sent it.”
“Yep.”
“Piece of shit VPN,” The Kid grumbled as he carefully shut his laptop. “I should’ve just made my own.” The Kid glared at Hawks, and Hawks stared back with furrowed eyebrows.
“Did you stay up all night? You look like shit,” Hawks said.
“Wait, what?” The Kid whipped his head towards the window and his eyebrows shot up as he suddenly realized how bright it was outside. “Huh, wouldja look at that. It’s the sun.” Then, The Kid looked back at Hawks and asked, “What’re you doing here?”
“I wanted to take you to breakfast,” Hawks replied with a small smile. The Kid narrowed his eyes suspiciously.
“Why? What did you do?” A pause. Then. “What did I do?” Hawks chuckled and smirked at The Kid.
“Do you not know what today is?”
“Monday?” Hawks lightly scoffed with an exasperated smile on his lips.
“It’s Wednesday.” The Kid pursed his lips.
“Oof, so close.”
Hawks sighed, crossing his arms and shaking his head. He glanced to the closed laptop and frowned before looking back at The Kid and asking, “When was the last time you ate real food?”
“Monday.” As if on cue, The Kid’s stomach loudly growled, and he gave Hawks a sheepish chuckle.
“Okay, we’re getting something to eat,” Hawks stated. “Let’s go.”
“Since when do you care?” The Kid asked, shrugging off his blankets and moving to close his book. “It’s not like we’re friends or anything.”
“What do you mean?” Hawks replied with an innocent smile. “I’ve always been a nice person.” The Kid pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes at Hawks, and Hawks chuckled. “Okay, okay, you don’t have to look at me like that.”
“I’m only agreeing to this because I’m starving,” The Kid reasoned as he placed his laptop and book back into his pocket dimension. “Otherwise there’s no way I’d voluntarily spend my day with you.”
“Whatever you say,” Hawks sing-songed with a smirk. The Kid scowled at him and placed his blankets into the pocket dimension before pulling out a tattered scarf and fingerless gloves. Hawks watched as The Kid put them on and quirked his lips to the side.
“What?” The Kid asked as he wrapped the scarf around his neck.
“Don’t you have anything warmer?”
“No, I just love freezing my ass off,” The Kid scowled.
“Maybe this’ll help then,” Hawks replied with a smile as he reached into his pocket.
“Oh my god, where’d you find it?” The Kid gasped, snatching his green beanie out of Hawk’s hand and bringing up to his eyes.
“You left it at the hospital,” Hawks amusedly replied, smiling as The Kid tugged it onto his head with a childlike grin. “I would’ve given it back to you earlier, but you’ve been kinda MIA.”
“For good reason,” The Kid mumbled, crossing his arms. But, at the word “MIA”, The Kid’s thoughts jumped to Angel.
“Come on,” Hawks started, turning and gesturing for The Kid to follow him. “I haven’t eaten yet either.”
“Okay,” The Kid absently replied, his thoughts still on this Angel. “Can we get some pancakes?”
“What’s the magic word?” Hawks teased with a shit-eating smirk. The Kid deadpanned at Hawks.
“Can we get some pancakes, asshat?”
________
“Slow down, you’re gonna choke,” Hawks chided as he pushed The Kid’s orange juice closer to him. The Kid glanced up from his giant stack of pancakes, locked eyes with Hawks, and proceeded to stuff half a pancake into his mouth. Hawks grimaced slightly at the sight before slowly taking a sip of his coffee. The two continued to eat in silence until The Kid got down to his last pancake.
“So,” Hawks started. The Kid glanced up at him and quirked an eyebrow. “What’re you up to for the rest of the day?”
“Why?” The Kid warrily asked through a mouth full of food. He narrowed his eyes at Hawks. “What do you want?”
“For you to come with me while I do some recon.”
“No.”
“You need training.”
“No, fuck you.”
“Listen,” Hawks started, leaning his forearms onto the table and looking pointedly at the disgruntled kid. “I wanna teach you a couple things before you get sent on another recon assignment.”
“I’ll just duct-tape my mouth shut next time,” The Kid stated as he put his fork down. Hawks curled his lips inwards in a poor attempt to hide an amused smile.
“As much as I would love to see that,” Hawks strained, trying not to laugh, “there’s more to surveillance than just staying quiet.”
“High key doubt that.” Then, The Kid gave Hawks a shit-eating smirk as he continued. “Be honest, you just wanna spend time with me. You like me. I’ve grown on you.”
“Yes, that’s exactly it,” Hawks deadpanned. “I’m in love with you and want to take you on a secret date so we can elope. Will you marry me, Kid?”
The Kid shuddered and gave a fairly convincing, fake gag before he quickly replied, “I don’t like this game anymore. Stop.” Hawks rolled his eyes and smirked.
“As I was saying, there are some things I wanna to teach you.”
“I’m good,” The Kid replied, starting to slide out of the booth. “Thanks for the food.”
“If you don’t come I’ll tell the boss about Wormy.”
“So when do we start?” The Kid smiled as he immediately settled back into his seat. Hawks gave a wicked smirk and rolled his eyes.
“Yeah, I thought so.” The Kid scowled at Hawks, making him chuckle. “The warehouse is across town, so we should head out soon.”
“Of course it’s a fucking warehouse,” The Kid mumbled, slouching down in his seat and looking away with a frown. A moment of silence passed before The Kid looked back at Hawks and saw that he was staring down at the table with a deep frown. “What?”
Hawks looked up at The Kid and paused a moment before slowly asking, “How’s your shoulder?”
“It’s fine.” Hawks looked unconvinced, and The Kid sighed before sitting up, raising the arm that got shot, and rolling his shoulder in a circle. “See?” The Kid let his arm drop back down and continued, “it looked worse than it actually was. Plus, it was a through-and-through with a tiny bullet, so it healed fast.”
“Alright,” Hawks slowly replied. “This shouldn’t be too dangerous, we’re just watching a drug deal go down from this underground crime syndicate that I’ve been keeping tabs on.”
“Oo, that’s pretty cool. What’s the drug?” Hawks narrowed his eyes and studied The Kid’s face carefully, making The Kid shift uncomfortably.
“I’m taking a chance here and trusting you. Don’t make me regret this.” The Kid opened his mouth to give his signature, snarky response but stopped when he saw an uncharacteristically hard and serious look in Hawk’s eyes. Shrinking back slightly under Hawk’s intense gaze, The Kid nodded.
“You won’t, I promise.” Hawks stared for a moment longer before responding.
“It’s some kind of drug that enhances quirks. It hit the streets at the beginning of the year in small batches, but, recently, supplies have increased and even low level villains have managed to get their hands on it.”
“Yo,” The Kid replied in amazement. “That’s so cool. Have you ever tried it before? What’s it like?” Hawks gawked at The Kid.
“Seriously? That’s definitely not an appropriate reaction.”
“Oh, sorry,” The Kid said as he rolled his eyes. “I’ll just pretend that a quirk enhancing drug isn’t the coolest thing I’ve heard of since I read about A--” The Kid snapped his mouth shut and pursed his lips, kicking himself mentally while making a note to work on his filter. Hawks quirked an eyebrow in confusion, but before he could say anything, The Kid quickly asked, “Shouldn’t we leave now?” Hawks scoffed.
“You’re a moron if you think that I’m just going to let that go.”
“You caught me, I’m a moron. Let’s go!”
The Kid quickly slid out of the booth and made his way out the diner, not giving Hawks a chance to press more about what The Kid had almost confessed to finding while spelunking the Commission’s servers. As soon as The Kid stepped out the door, a blast of icy wind hit him that sent a shiver up his spine. He immediately brought his scarf and gloves back out of his pocket dimension and slipped them on.
Suddenly, The Kid felt something buzz in his pocket, and he fished out his personal phone. He furrowed his eyebrows and pursed his lips when he didn’t see a text notification. When something buzzed in his pocket again, he sighed and brought out his Commission phone. But when he saw a text from Takeshi, he gave a small smile.
If you don’t have plans tonight, you’re welcome to join us for dinner! -- Mr. Takeshi.
It’s going to be just me and my wife, so you don’t have to worry about random cousins and such -- Mr. Takeshi. The Kid quirked an eyebrow in confusion.
“What’s wrong?” The Kid glanced up and saw Hawks walking towards him from the diner’s door with a quizzical look on his face.
“Mr. Takeshi invited me for dinner.”
“That’s nice of him, you should go.”
“Why?” Hawks quirked an eyebrow and stared amusedly at The Kid.
“Do you really not know what today is?”
“Wednesday?” Hawks scoffed and shook his head incredulously.
“It’s Christmas Eve,” Hawks chuckled. “You need to get a calendar or something.”
“Is it really?” The Kid asked as he checked the date on his phone. “Well I’ll be damned.”
“Yeah, so, instead of spending the holiday alone and going through the files you stole, why don’t you hang out with Takeshi and his family.” The Kid pondered for a second, pursing his lips and looking up and to the side. Then, Hawks added, “You’ll get a free meal out of it.”
“You right.” Quickly, The Kid sent Mr. Takeshi a reply.
Bet, thanks! -- Kid.
Haha. Bet! Come by around 8 -- Mr. Takeshi. The Kid laughed, slipped his phone back into his pocket, looked at Hawks whose gaze was fixated on The Kid.
“Are you checking me out?” The Kid warrily asked, turning away slightly and dramatically hugging his arms around his chest. “Because if you are, you could at least buy me dinner first.”
“I was thinking,” Hawks exasperatedly replied with a mocking look on his face.
“Yeah, right. About what?”
“Whether we should use comms or not to talk to each other during the stake out.”
“Oh…” The Kid formed an exaggerated “O” with his lips before sheepishly grinning and letting his arms fall to his side. “My bad.”
“Yeah,” Hawks replied with a pointed look. “Let’s skip them this time. I don’t wanna give your sarcastic ass a reason to talk more than you already do.”
“That’s fair.”
“Come on, let’s go,” Hawks said as he held his arms out and took a step towards The Kid. The Kid immediately took a step back.
“What’re you doing?” The Kid asked, staring with wide eyes and furrowed eyebrows at Hawks. “I’m not giving you a hug.”
“It’ll be faster if I fly us there,” Hawks sighed. “Come on.”
“Yeah, no. What part of “I don’t like being touched” did you not understand? Give me the address. I’ll meet you there.” Hawks dropped his arms and sighed.
“It’s halfway across town.”
“I’ll power walk.”
“Kid.”
“Pigeon.” The Kid stared deadpanned at Hawks and made the hero sigh and pinch the bridge of his nose.
“Fine,” Hawks conceded. “I’ll fly ahead, and you can follow. Is that okay with you, princess?”
“Yes. Yes, it is.” Hawks sighed once more before spreading out his wings and shooting up into the air in one swift motion.
The Kid watched him for a moment, a little peeved with himself for thinking that Hawks looked cool flying around. Then, The Kid took a step back, locked on onto the edge of the building just under where Hawks was hovering, and lunged forwards, blipping to that spot. As soon as he got there, he looked up to see that Hawks had already flown several buildings forwards. The hero stopped flying and turned back to throw The Kid a smug look.
“Oh, it’s on,” The Kid mumbled, a small smirk on his lips, as he raced forwards and blipped to where Hawks was in a blink of an eye. The two raced each other across the city, The Kid blipping several buildings at a time as Hawks zipped by overhead. Truth be told, The Kid had no clue where he was going and lost Hawks several times on the way to the warehouse. But, eventually, The Kid saw a large, dilapidated building in the distance. Hawks was just ahead of him, and the hero glanced over his shoulder and smirked.
“I’ll see you there!” Hawks shouted with a mocking salute. The Kid blipped to the spot just underneath Hawks and glared up at him as the hero laughed and flew farther ahead.
Adrenaline coursed through The Kid’s veins, and he felt one of the best runner’s highs that he had ever felt in his life. The cold air burned his lungs, and his cheeks stung as the wind hit his face, but he didn’t notice any of it as he focused his gaze on the building ahead.
“You got this,” The Kid huffed. He didn’t know exactly how far he was from the building, but he knew that he had never blipped that far in one go before. Especially not to a place he had never even been to. His quirk worked best if the location was within a couple hundred feet of him and if he had physically been there before. The “physically being there” part was more a safety measure as The Kid needed to be able to see or visualize his landing spot, lest he accidentally blip into something dangerous or several meters above the ground. Again.
He stared intently at the warehouse, gritted his teeth, imagined what the ground just in front of the warehouse would look like, ignored the building anxiety and dread in his chest, and lunged into the air. In the blink of an eye, The Kid felt his feet brush against the ground and, for a split second, he felt ecstatic excitement. Then, his legs folded under him and the only thought that crossed his mind was “shit, this is gonna hurt”.
His shoulder hit the ground a second later, and he tumbled uncontrollably straight into the side of the warehouse, hitting it with a heartstopping crash. The Kid laid perfectly still, groaning as pain spread throughout the entire side of his body and shoulder. Breathing harshly, he slowly rolled onto his back and let his arm flop straight out.
“Ow,” he moaned. He stared dazedly into the overcast sky, trying to catch his breath. A second later, he felt a strong gust of wind on the side of his face, and he let his head roll to the side to see a beyond worried looking Hawks jogging over to him.
“What happened?” Hawks shouted, crouching down by The Kid’s head. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” The Kid replied. Then, he flashed Hawks a smug grin and said, “I won.” Hawks gawked as The Kid let out a breathy laugh.
“And proud.” The Kid slowly pushed himself to sit up, wincing at the ache in his side and shoulder. Thankfully, it wasn’t the shoulder that got shot, and he gave a silent, thankful prayer for that. “Don’t think I’ll try that again.”
“I’ve never seen you fuck up a teleport before,” Hawks commented. The Kid furrowed his eyebrows at the hero and frowned. “What happened?”
“Tried to break my record. Couldn’t stick the landing.” A pause. “And it’s called a blip.”
“Seriously?” Hawks asked with a smirk. “A blip? Like in that movie?”
“Shut up,” The Kid shot back with a scowl. Hawks chuckled, stood up straight, and held a hand out to The Kid. The Kid stared at it, looked up at Hawks, then looked down at the extended hand again.
“Right,” Hawks said, pulling his hand back. “No touch.” The Kid mashed his lips together in an awkward smile and slowly stood up. He quickly brushed off his hoodie and straightened his scarf before looking expectantly at Hawks.
“So we going or nah?” Hawks stared amusedly at The Kid a moment.
“Yeah, let’s go.”
The inside of the warehouse was as stereotypical as an abandoned warehouse could be, and it was just as cold as the outside. The walls and beams were covered in rust, cracked lights were strung up from the roof, and a musty smell permeated the space. The Kid surveyed the room as he followed Hawks up a set of creaky stairs, slightly disappointed at the standardness of it all. Hawks led The Kid to a corner on the other side of the warehouse where a collection of empty oil drums stood.
“I scoped this place out earlier,” Hawks started as he rolled one oil drum to the side. “You can’t see this place from down below, and the corner increases the acoustics so you should still be able to hear any chatter.”
“Cool.” The Kid took a step forward to get into the corner, but stopped when Hawks held up a hand to The Kid’s chest.
“If we can hear them, then they can hear us. Got it?”
“Yeah, yeah,” The Kid scowled, carefully moving around Hawk’s hand and shoving his own hands under his armpits. “I got it. No talking.”
Hawks chuckled lightly as The Kid pressed his back against the corner and slid to the ground. He pulled his knees up to his chest and hugged them tightly, resting his chin on top of his knees and huffing. His breath came out in a white cloud, and his shoulders shook with uncontrollable shivers. As Hawks rolled the oil drum back into place, The Kid took out a blanket from his pocket dimension and wrapped it around himself. After adjusting two more oil drums, Hawks turned and quirked an eyebrow at The Kid.
“Are you cold?”
“Obviously.”
“Do you want my jacket?”
“I’m good.” A pause. “Thanks though.”
Hawks sat next to The Kid and brought his own knees to his chest.
“Dude,” The Kid spat, slapping away Hawk’s wing with a blanket covered fist. “Get your nasty ass feathers out of my face.”
“Quit being such a baby,” Hawks retorted, retracting his wings as best as he could. “It’s a tight space so just deal with it.”
“ “It’s a tight space so just deal with it”,” The Kid mockingly replied with a scowl. Hawks sighed in exasperation and pinched the bridge of his nose.
“This is gonna be a long day.”
“Yeah, you’re telling me.”
The Kid and Hawks sat in silence for about five minutes before The Kid succumbed to a mind-numbing boredom. In an effort to entertain himself, The Kid took out his personal phone, opened his blog, and started reading through the comments left on various posts he had made. He made mental notes here and there to respond to certain comments when he saw one from SilentZephyr left on his newest post about the boss secretly being an evil alien bent on world domination.
How’s the hunt going? -- SilentZephyr.
The Kid quirked his lips to the lip and scrunched up his nose. After he got the last comment from SilentZephyr in regards to the Korean in the summer of 2031, The Kid spent countless hours searching through the Commission’s servers for information. But he couldn’t find anything.
“What’re you doing?” The Kid glanced up from his phone and saw Hawks furrowing his eyebrows at him. “Please tell me you’re not making a blog post right now.”
“So what if I am?” Hawks silently stared at The Kid, but his gaze seemed far away. “What?”
“Do you know who leaves comments on your blog?” The Kid furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.
“Not unless they leave a name or something. Most people post under pseudonyms or as anonymous. Why?”
“Just wondering.”
“Oh, fuck no,” The Kid started, a little too loudly, earning a “hush” from Hawks that The Kid dutifully ignored. “Tell me why you’re asking about my readers or I’ll use Wormy to scramble the servers so bad that you’ll have to use a supercomputer to re-organize everything.”
“You wouldn’t,” Hawks responded with a glare. The Kid smirked.
“Try me.” Hawks narrowed his eyes and studied The Kid carefully. The Kid stared back, puffing out his chest in an attempt to make himself appear bold and confident. After about a minute of silence, Hawks gave a grand sigh.
“Fine,” Hawks finally conceded, earning a triumphant look from The Kid. “A few weeks ago, someone named SilentZephyr left a comment on one of your posts. I was wondering if you knew who they were.” The Kid paused for a moment. pursed his lips, and slowly shook his head.
“Not their name or anything.” The Kid stared blankly for a moment before he was hit with a realization. “Are you talking about their tip on the 2031 Summer in Korea?”
There was no response as Hawks glanced away. An insatiable curiosity grew inside The Kid, and he smirked as he pressed forwards. “Do you know anything about it? Why aren’t you telling me? Did someone do something weird? Did they get drunk and flash someone? What happened? Come on, tell me, tell me, tell me, tell--”
“Holy shit, will you shut the fuck up?” Hawks spat, casting a dark glare at The Kid. “Nothing happened, so just drop it.” Taken aback by Hawks’ sudden hostility, The Kid shrank back into his blanket.
“Sorry,” The Kid quietly replied, uncharacteristically hesitant to say anything else back. But that hesitance lasted all of 10 seconds before The Kid asked, “Did something bad happen?”
“I told you to drop it.”
“But why?” The Kid thought for a moment, wracking his brain for some way to convince Hawks to reveal something about that incident. Suddenly, he thought of something that would definitely make Hawks talk. “If you tell me about it, I can go back to SilentZephyr and team up with them. Then I can let you know who they are.”
Hawks brought his knees closer to his chest, wrapped his arms loosely around them, and stared intently at his hands. His eyebrows furrowed and a frown settled on his lips as he thought long and hard about The Kid’s proposition. After what seemed like an eternity of silence, Hawks looked back at The Kid.
“How do I know you’ll keep your end of the deal? I’m gonna need some collateral from you.” The Kid silently applauded himself for his brilliant idea before responding.
“What do you want?” Hawks quirked his lips to the side as he thought for a brief moment.
“Tell me something about yourself that you don’t want the Commission to find out.”
“Oh fuck no. Pick something else.”
“If they find out I told you about Korea, they’re probably gonna have me arrested. So I need something of equal value from you if I’m about to put my ass on the line.”
“Is finding out who SilentZephyr is really worth jail time?” Hawks paused a moment and looked back at his folded hands before answering.
“Yes,” Hawks quietly said. But The Kid heard something in Hawks’ voice that struck a chord inside of him. It sounded like a desperate plea for an answer to a persistently haunting question. It was something that The Kid understood all too well.
“Okay then,” The Kid started, mustering up as much courage as he could for what he was about to reveal. Taking in a deep breath, he started. “About a year ago, before my grandma died, I told her that I would move to Tokyo to try and be a hero. She always wanted me to be one. But, in reality, I only came to investigate a fire that took out half of my hometown when I was a kid.” The Kid waited for Hawks to look at him before he sighed and continued. “The official police report listed it as an accident. Something about a broken gas line. But it was a lie. Someone started the fire, and the police covered it up. So, I’m trying to find out why.”
Hawks furrowed his eyebrows and paused a moment before asking, “Is that why you’ve been breaking into the servers?”
“Yeah.”
“Why is finding out so important to you?” The Kid stared at Hawks for a moment before looking away and pressing his cheek to the top of his knees. An empty loneliness settled on his heart that he had grown far too accustomed to over the years. Sure, it might not have hurt as badly as it did when he was younger, but that wasn’t saying much.
“My family died in that fire, and I want to know what was so important that the police had to stop investigating and chalk it up as some kind of accident.” A tense silence settled for what seemed like an eternity before Hawks spoke again.
“Is that what that article on your computer was from this morning?”
“Yeah.” Another moment of silence.
“I’m so sorry, Kid.” The Kid looked up at Hawks and saw the hero staring back with some kind of emotion in his eyes. Suddenly feeling a lump forming in his throat, The Kid sat up straight, pulled his blanket tighter around him, and cleared his throat.
“You’re turn.” Hawks carefully stared at The Kid, making his shift uncomfortably. After an awkward stint of silence, Hawks sighed and finally spoke.
“In 2031 the Commission sent an undercover agent to Korea to try and track down the ringleader to an international human trafficking organization. We had gotten a tip that the ringleader was somewhere in Seoul.” Hawks frowned and turned his head away before continuing. “Just when the agent thought they were getting close, we lost all contact with them. The Commission waited two weeks before they sent me over to find them. But when I got to the place they were supposed to be staying at, all I found was a note saying that their cover had been blown and that if they didn’t check in by the end of the month, then to assume that they were dead.”
“Oh man…” The Kid whispered.
“Yeah,” Hawks slowly replied, looking back at The Kid. “The mission was deemed a failure and all records of it were destroyed. Then, the ringleader went underground, and we haven’t been able to get a track on their whereabouts ever since.”
“What about the agent?” Hawks looked down and bit the inside of his cheek.
“We never found a body, so they were classified as MIA.” The Kid’s eyes widened and, before he could stop himself, he blurted out.
“Wait, are you talking about Angel?” The Kid cringed as soon as the words left his mouth, and he watched as Hawks’ face morphed from shock to confusion then to some kind of mix of anger and sadness.
“I’m going to tell you this once and only once,” Hawks started in a low and dangerous tone. “Put their file back and never bring them up again. Got it?”
“Yeah,” The Kid quickly replied with a nod. “Got it.”
Hawks gave one last glare to The Kid before turning his head and staring at his hands again. The Kid studied Hawks’ face and took in the deep sadness in the hero’s eyes. It was a sadness that The Kid recognized: the sadness of having lost family. Suddenly, a strange feeling came over The Kid. It wasn’t a happy feeling, per say, but it was a comforting feeling because, for the first time in a long time, The Kid didn’t feel so alone.
“When I was younger,” The Kid started, courting Hawks’ attention. “My older brother and I used to read these comics.” The Kid reached into his pocket dimension, felt around, and pulled out one of his Loki comics. As he handed it to Hawks, he continued, “We would pretend that we were heroes like the ones in the story and cause all kinds of trouble for our parents and stuff.”
“Shocker,” Hawks commented with a smirk, thumbing through a few pages of the comic. The Kid chuckled lightly, slightly relieved at the positive change in Hawks’ demeanor.
“He was my best friend and partner in crime. But he always took the heat from our parents and other adults, even though I was usually the one that fucked things up.” The Kid paused a moment, his smile fading into a frown. Hawks glanced up at The Kid, but The Kid looked away as he said, “I think that’s what I miss the most about him. How he’d look out for me even when I didn’t really deserve it.” A pause. Then. “I miss having a big brother.”
The Kid’s words hung heavy in the air as The Kid continued to look away. Suddenly, Hawks tapped The Kid’s arm with the comic, and The Kid looked up to see the hero smiling softly at him.
“I think you’re brother would be happy to know that you’re still fucking things up.” The Kid laughed and took the comic, carefully placing it back into his pocket dimension. Settling back into his blanket, The Kid looked at Hawks and gave a small smile.
Carefully, The Kid asked, “Can you tell me about Angel?”
Hawks quirked an eyebrow. “Why?”
“Just curious,” The Kid responded with a shrug. Hawks stared a moment before giving a sigh and looking towards the ceiling.
“We met when we were kids and basically grew up together. There weren’t many kids our age around, so we got to be really close. When I turned 18 and started my hero agency, I promised them that, when they got their full hero’s license, they could join and we could be partners.” Hawks paused a moment then turned his head to look at The Kid and smiled softly. “They wanted to make it so that heroes wouldn’t have to work so hard to keep the peace.”
“Ah, so they were a dreamer,” The Kid quietly commented with a smile. Hawks chuckled.
“Yeah, they were.” Sighing deeply, Hawks brought his knees closer to his chest, and looked down at them. “They dreamed big and lived life like there was no tomorrow.”
“They sound pretty cool,” The Kid started with a soft smile. “Do you miss them?” Hawks looked at The Kid and gave a sad smile.
“Yeah. Every day.” A pause.
“I miss my family too.”
The Kid and Hawks shared a silent moment of understanding when voices suddenly sounded from outside. Both of them whipped their heads in the direction of the sound. A second later, the warehouse doors creaked open and two men stepped inside.
“Who’re the weirdos in the plague masks?” The Kid whispered far too loudly, peering over the oil drums. Suddenly, The Kid felt one of Hawk’s wings smack the back of his head. The Kid whipped his head towards the hero, harsh words on the tip of his tongue that were instantly forgotten when he saw Hawks glaring daggers at him.
“I’m gonna need you to shut up,” Hawks lowly muttered.
“Right.”
________
The Kid sat at his laptop, typing, deleting, and retyping a response to SilentZephyr. His conversation with Hawks from the warehouse played over and over in his mind as he wracked his brain for a message he could send that wouldn’t reveal too much about the 2031 operation in Korea but would still convince SilentZephyr that he had found out what the mission was about. After deleting the hundredth draft, The Kid leaned back and let out a frustrated sigh.
“This would be so much easier if I could just direct message them,” The Kid spat as he ran his hands down his cheeks. Suddenly, The Kid dropped his head, shook it, and gave a defeated sigh. “Wow, I’m an idiot.”
Looking back at his laptop, The Kid replied to SilentZephyr’s most recent comment with:
Hooked a big one. -- BlogMaster.
Before sending the message, The Kid set up a password-protected internet relay chat room. For the password, The Kid left the clue “what kind of traffic is Korea known for?”. After setting the password, The Kid pasted the URL to the chatroom to the message and posted it.
He waited for a couple minutes, but when he didn’t get an immediate response, The Kid closed his laptop and stood up. Stretching his arms above his head, The Kid gave a huge yawn, a wave of complete exhaustion from his all-nighter finally catching up to him. For a brief moment, he thought about cancelling his plan of heading to Mr. Takeshi’s house for dinner. But his growling stomach convinced him otherwise.
The Kid checked his phone and saw that it was a quarter to 8. As he slipped his phone back into his pocket, The Kid put his laptop into his pocket dimension, adjusted his beanie, and blipped outside the factory.
About 20 minutes later, The Kid found himself cold and shivering at the front door of Mr. Takeshi’s house. The Kid stared at the white door, rubbing his hands together as the faint sound of Christmas music sang in his ears. Taking in a deep breath, The Kid rang the doorbell and took a step back. Not a second later, the door flew open to reveal an ugly-sweater cladded Mr. Takeshi.
“Kid!” Mr. Takeshi exclaimed, gesturing The Kid inside. “I’m so glad you could make it!”
“Thanks,” The Kid awkwardly chuckled, stepping inside and relishing the immediate warmth. A wonderful aroma of mashed potatoes and candied yams wafted through the air and made The Kid’s mouth water and stomach rumble. Mr. Takeshi shut the door and The Kid turned to face him.
“I hope you’re hungry,” Mr. Takeshi laughed. “The missus went a little overboard with food.”
“Starving,” The Kid replied with a sheepish smile. He took in the bright, red tint on Mr. Takeshi’s face and the giddiness in his laugh. Smirking, The Kid asked, “Are you drunk?”
“Maybe a little,” Mr. Takeshi replied with a lop-sided grin. “Come help me set up the table, we’re just waiting on the ham.”
“K.” The Kid followed Mr. Takeshi through the living room and into the dining room where an already impressive spread was laid out. Suddenly, a voice chimed from the kitchen on the other side of a swinging door.
“Is that Kid?”
“Hey, Mr. Takeshi’s wife!” The Kid shouted back. A moment later, a petite woman with jetblack hair put up in a ponytail poked her head from behind the door. The Kid gave a small wave, and Mr. Takeshi’s wife beamed at The Kid. Quickly, she pushed her way through the door and came right up to The Kid, the top of her head just barely reaching his eye level and her bulging belly nearly touching The Kid’s stomach.
“I know you don’t like being touched,” the woman started with a smile. “But how about an air hug?”
“Oh, uhm,” The Kid awkwardly started. But before he could say anything else, the woman leaned up and stretched her arms out wide.
In what could only be described as the most awkward movement in history, The Kid returned the air hug with stiff and jilted movements. In the background, The Kid could hear Mr. Takeshi snickering. The Kid quickly gave a glare at Mr. Takeshi, making the man laugh, before turning back to Mr. Takeshi’s wife and smiling. “How’s Mr. Takeshi Jr.?”
“He’s good,” Mr. Takeshi’s wife laughed, gently rubbing her hand over her rotund belly. Suddenly, she sucked in a breath, pressed her hand to the top of her belly, and winced a little before saying, “He’s been moving around all day. I think he knew that you were coming!”
“Oh, that’s not creepy at all,” The Kid quietly commented, making Mr. Takeshi’s wife laugh.
“Have you ever felt a baby kick before?” Before The Kid could answer, Mr. Takeshi’s wife pinched The Kid’s sleeve and tugged his arm forwards. The Kid reluctantly let the woman lead his hand over the top of her belly, and he grimaced slightly as he tentatively pressed the tips of his fingers on the spot. A second later, The Kid felt a bump and immediately retracted his hand.
“What the fuck,” The Kid breathed, staring in shock at Mr. Takeshi’s wife’s belly as the woman laughed. “Does that not freak you out?”
“Not at all,“ the woman replied with a smile. “It’s actually really comforting. Why? Does it freak you out?”
“Very much so,” The Kid replied, furrowing his eyebrows and still staring at the spot where he felt the baby kick.
Mr. Takeshi’s wife laughed once more before turning and walking back through the kitchen doors. Mr. Takeshi came up behind The Kid, and The Kid looked up to see him looking fondly at the door his wife just disappeared behind.
“She’s been looking forward to you coming over all day,” Mr. Takeshi said, glancing down at The Kid with a smile. “We both have been.”
“That’s…” The Kid started before trailing off. He quirked his lips to the side as he thought about how to respond. Then, he smiled and said, “really nice. Thanks for inviting me.”
“Any time.”
Dinner was filled with laughter and chatter, mostly on Mr. Takeshi’s drunken part, and The Kid listened on with amusement as he stuffed his face with mashed potatoes and ham. The Kid wasn’t sure how long it had been since he sat at a dinner table, but he recognized the familial warmness and care right away. The way Mr. Takeshi would absentmindedly gaze at his wife, and how Mr. Takeshi’s wife would genuinely laugh at the most inane jokes her husband made, all brought back memories of The Kid’s own family. And those memories made The Kid feel some kind of way.
The Kid settled into the atmosphere as if he had always been part of the family. He even, at some point, asked Mr. Takeshi if he could try some beer, which the older man expressly denied citing The Kid’s obvious underaged appearance. After dinner, The Kid helped clear the table and pack up some leftovers to take when he felt his phone buzz in his pocket. He took it out to see that someone had sent a message to the chatroom that he had set up.
“One sec,” The Kid said as he moved out of the kitchen and into the living room. He quickly glanced around to make sure no one had followed him out before grinning opening the message.
So, what did you find? -- SilentZephyr. The Kid pursed his lips to try and hide his excitement while he responded.
An interesting story about a secret mission and an elusive human trafficking ringleader. -- The Kid. The Kid stared at his phone in anticipation. A second later, a response came.
0800 tomorrow -- SilentZephyr. Attached to the message was a set of coordinates.
Sounds good, see you then -- The Kid.
“Who’re you talking to?” The Kid whipped around to see Mr. Takeshi walking towards him with a red shopping bag in hand.
“Just a friend,” The Kid replied with a smile. He glanced down at the bag and quirked an eyebrow. “What’s that?”
“A present,” Mr. Takeshi said with a mysterious smirk. “Here.”
“Awe, you didn’t have to,” The Kid responded as he slid his phone into his pocket and took the bag.
“Oh, I didn’t.” The Kid furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, and Mr. Takeshi chuckled. “It’s from Hawks. He dropped it off earlier and told me not to tell you it’s from him.”
“Chicken nugget? Seriously?” The Kid asked with an amused smirk.
“Seriously,” Mr. Takeshi laughed. “I’m not sure why he didn’t want me to tell you, but I would’ve felt bad if you thanked me instead of him.”
“He probably got me a book on Tokyo laws or a tracking anklet or something,” The Kid chuckled as he dug through the bag. “Oh, shit.”
The Kid let the bag fall to the ground as he held up a black, wool-lined hoodie. The material was thick and soft, and The Kid could tell just from looking at it that it would keep him incredibly warm. The Kid turned the hoodie over in his hands, running his fingers over the fuzzy lining and smiling softly.
“That fucker, I didn’t get him anything.”
_________
Hawks plopped down on his sofa, his hair still damp from his long and ruminative shower. He propped his feet up onto his coffee table and grabbed a remote, clicking on the TV to the news channel. A reporter talked about two more children who had gone missing in a string of unexplained disappearances since the beginning of December.
“Jesus, not another one,” Hawks murmured, staring at the pictures of a young boy and girl on the screen and running his fingers through his hair. According to the reporter, they were both 13 years old who were last seen at the local mall. “What’s going on in this world?”
Hawks let his hand fall into his lap as his thoughts fluttered back to his conversation with The Kid. And they lingered on how pained The Kid had looked when he talked about missing his older brother. Though Hawks didn’t have any biological siblings, he understood the feeling of losing someone so close and loved in the blink of an eye. A dull ache permeated the hero’s heart as a memory of his childhood friend laughing flashed through his mind. He missed them more than he could ever describe and, ever since he met The Kid, Hawks had been thinking about them more often.
Suddenly, Hawks felt his phone vibrate, and he fished it out of his pocket to see a message from The Kid. Hawks smirked and shook his head incredulously.
“Speak of the devil.” Hawks opened the message, and, as he read it, a small scowl formed on his face.
So, Mr. Takeshi spilled and told me that you got me the hoodie. You guys should really work on training your agents to be better about guarding secrets -- The Kid.
“Of course he did,” Hawks grumbled, sinking into his seat. His wings drooped over the back of the couch, and he was just about to write a response when he got another message from The Kid.
Thanks. You didn’t have to -- The Kid. Hawks gave a small smile.
I know. Merry Christmas, Kid. -- Hawks.
Merry Christmas. Sorry I didn’t get you anything, but I managed to set up a meeting with SilentZephyr tomorrow. I’ll let you know how it goes -- The Kid. Hawks’ eyebrows shot up.
“Well that was fast.”
Sounds good. And don’t worry about it, “it’s not like we’re friends or anything” -- Hawks. As he sent the message, Hawks smirked as he remembered how The Kid had said that same thing to him earlier that day.
Hawks set his phone down and returned his attention to the TV. The news had turned to a report about the weather, and he boredly flipped through the channels when he felt his phone buzz again. He picked it up to see that The Kid had posted a message on his blog. Giving a grand, exasperated sigh, Hawks opened it.
So, this post is gonna be different and disgustingly sentimental. But, I know this annoying ass chicken nugget who’s missing his Christmas Angel right now. So, if anyone can give me advice on what to get him to cheer him up, or if you can just leave a “Merry Christmas” for him, I think my friend would really appreciate it. -- BlogMaster.
“That little shit,” Hawks mused with an amused, incredulous smirk.
Hawks took a screenshot of the post, knowing full well that it would probably be the closest thing to a nice gesture that he would get from The Kid, and refreshed the page to see that a few dozen comments had already been posted. His eyebrows shot up in surprise at how quickly so many people had responded. Most of the responses were variations on “Merry Christmas, hope your friend feels better” while the rest were gift ideas that ranged from coffee mugs to strip club coupons.
“This kid,” Hawks chuckled as he scrolled through the comments. But when he got to one particular comment, he sat up straight and felt his heart jump into his throat.
Merry Christmas, KT -- Anonymous.
Hawks read the message over and over, his mind caught up in a whirlwind of shock, confusion, and paranoia.
Summary: Oikawa had a goal and a laid out path to get there. School, Nationals, University, Pro Team. No matter what happened, he never strayed from this path. Until the day of his accident. Suddenly, he was lost, unsure of how he would reach the goal he had spent his whole life working towards. Then he met you. And you taught him that getting lost didn’t mean you couldn’t find your way back. And that, sometimes, it made the journey that much better.
“Come over tonight and bring the picture with you. We can talk more then.”
The words rang through Oikawa’s mind as he led his team towards the tournament arena. He had spent a great majority of the previous night on the phone with Toshi, who spent the majority of the phone call trying to calm his younger brother. Oikawa’s mind was cloudy, and his head throbbed slightly both from lack of sleep and the panic attack he had had when he found the picture. Physically and mentally, the setter was exhausted, and, emotionally, he was raw.
Shaking his head, Oikawa sucked in a deep breath and walked a little faster to get farther ahead from the rest of the boys. He gripped the straps of his gym bag tightly, barely registering the excited chatter behind him and purposefully maintaining a just barely noticeable distance from the rest of the team. But Iwaizumi noticed straight away.
“Hey,” the ace quietly said as he sped up to match Oikawa’s pace. “Is everything okay?”
Oikawa looked at his friend and, when he did, he felt a sudden rush of emotions that threatened to shatter the wall around his heart that he had spent the morning constructing. He harshly bit at the inside of his cheek, focusing on the pain as he shoved those emotions back. Forcing as best a smile as he possibly could, Oikawa nodded.
“Yeah, I’m good.” Iwaizumi narrowed his eyes and furrowed his eyebrows, closely studying Oikawa’s face. A tense silence settled between the two boys that did nothing to help the anxiety sitting on Oikawa’s chest. They continued to walk forwards, the arena coming into view on the horizon. Finally, unable to stand the silence, Oikawa looked down at his feet and frowned. In a barely audible voice, he started, “I-- uhm...”
But the words got caught in Oikawa’s throat as his mind kicked into overdrive. Bits and pieces of his conversation with Toshi flew through his head as did images of the picture. Oikawa felt his heartbeat grow increasingly erratic, and he took in a shaky breath to try and calm the storm inside of him.
“Later?” Oikawa looked back to Iwaizumi to find the ace staring back, his eyes full of concern and confusion. Swallowing thickly, Oikawa nodded.
“Later.”
“Okay.” A pause. “Is there anything I can do to help right now?” Oikawa glanced away for just a moment, chewing the inside of his cheek as he thought about Iwaizumi’s offer.
“Yeah,” Oikawa breathed, looking back to his friend. “Can you just treat today like any other?”
“You got it.” Oikawa gave his friend a small but incredibly grateful smile, and Iwaizumi returned an uncharacteristically soft and sympathetic smile. “Let me know if you need anything else.”
“Thank you.”
Suddenly, Oikawa felt something buzz in his pocket. He fished out his phone and, when he saw a text from you, his heart jumped and the blood in his veins froze. He started to chew at the inside of his cheek again, wincing slightly as he broke the skin. But, as he ran his tongue over the open sore, the slight sting seemed to calm his wracked nerves. Taking a deep breath and slowly exhaling, he opened the message.
Good luck! Make sure to have lots of fun! And I promise I won’t make a guest appearance again, so don’t worry! -- You. Oikawa stared at the message, his mind filling with images of your smile and the sound of your laughter. They brought him a warm comfort that only you could give him, and, for the first time since the previous night, he smiled.
Thanks, sweetheart, I will. What’re you up to today? -- Oikawa.
Chickadee and I are gonna have a girl’s day! -- You.
Oh boy, don’t get into too much trouble -- Oikawa.
No promises! Later-gator! -- You. Oikawa chuckled lightly.
In a while-crocodile. Have fun -- Oikawa.
“Hey.” Oikawa looked at Iwaizumi and quirked an eyebrow as he slipped his phone back into his pocket. The ace stared intently back, a barely suppressed smirk on his lips. “You’re a shithead.”
“What the fuck?” Oikawa responded incredulously, an exasperated smile forming on his lips. “What kind of random ass comment was that for?”
“You said to just go about our day like normal,” Iwaizumi responded with a smirk. “I haven’t called you “shithead” yet today, so I’m starting now.” Oikawa scoffed and shook his head incredulously, that smile growing more and more.
“That makes no sense. And is that just gonna be your permanent pet-name for me?”
“Probably, yeah.” Oikawa started to laugh and, when Iwaizumi joined him, a calmness washed over the setter.
“What’re you guys laughing about?” Oikawa turned his head as Makki came up next to him with Mattsun trailing just behind.
“How I should probably change my name to “shithead”,” Oikawa chuckled. Makki and Mattsun laughed.
“It doesn’t have to be shithead,” Mattsun commented with a smirk. “Asshat could work too.”
“Alright, alright, I get it,” Oikawa scoffed incredulously with an exasperated smile. “I’m glad I have such loving friends.”
“No problem,” Makki replied.
“What about dipshit?” Mattsun asked, trying to hold back his laughter. But when Iwaizumi and Makki started to laugh, Mattsun joined, followed shortly thereafter by Oikawa.
The four boys bantered back and forth, laughing and snickering the rest of the way to the arena. With each second that past being surrounded by his friends, Oikawa felt a bubble surrounding him that made him feel like everything was going to be okay. He held onto that feeling throughout the entire match against Karasuno, through the devastating loss, and through the heart shattering meet-up with the other crushed third-years later that day. And it was that feeling that gave Oikawa the courage and strength to talk to Iwaizumi about what had happened the previous night.
________
Oikawa and Iwaizumi walked in silence as the cool night air blanketed the both of them. Pale yellow lights from the street lamps illuminated their path, and the soft sound of cricket chirps resounded all around. Both boys’ eyes were puffy and red from their final, tear-filled practice with their teammates, and Oikawa’s throat felt sticky and swollen. And yet, despite the agonizing disappointment and sadness that Oikawa had experienced, there was still a calmness in his heart.
Oikawa looked up to the sky and, as he watched the stars twinkle against the dark, his thoughts drifted back to the room of infinite stars at the teamLab Borderless museum where you had kissed him and he realized that he would love you for the rest of his life. Giving a soft smile at the memory, he let it wash over him until he felt a strange sense of clarity.
“You seem pretty okay.” Oikawa turned his head towards Iwaizumi, and he saw his friend looking quizzically back. “I thought you’d be upset about losing.” The setter shrugged, stuffed his hands into his jacket pocket, and stared straight ahead.
“I mean, it doesn’t feel good to lose, but it’s not the end of the world.” Oikawa looked back to Iwaizumi. “I’m gonna keep playing until I can’t anymore, and I’m not gonna let one loss stop me from going after my dream.”
“Wow,” Iwaizumi started with a smirk. “You’ve really changed.”
“What do you mean?” Oikawa asked with a quirked eyebrow. Iwaizumi stared a moment before shrugging himself and letting his hands hang off the straps of his gym bag.
“Well, when we lost at the last tournament you raged for like two days.”
“I did not “rage”,” Oikawa retorted with a small scowl. Iwaizumi snickered as he replied.
“Fine. You threw a hissy-fit then.”
“Whatever,” Oikawa scoffed, rolling his eyes and smiling incredulously.
“Do you remember that popcorn bomb that y/n and them set off that Monday after the tournament?”
“Oh lord, yeah,” Oikawa laughed as he remembered the explosive incident. “I still can’t believe they didn’t get expelled for that.”
“The school’s math and science rankings would’ve probably taken a serious hit if they did,” Iwaizumi chuckled lightly.
“I kind of hate that you’re right,” Oikawa started with a smirk. “I guess what they say about geniuses is true.”
“That they’re crazy?”
“Yeah.” The sounds of the boys’ laughter echoed into the night until it died down into a tranquil silence. Suddenly, Oikawa felt his phone buzz in his pocket, and he fished it out to see a text from you that made him smirk. Speak of the devil…
Hey, how’re you doing? Makki and Mattsun are crying like babies so we’re gonna make cupcakes and play video games if you wanna join? -- You. Oikawa smiled softly.
I’m doing okay, thanks. I actually promised Toshi that I would come over tonight -- Oikawa.
Mkays! Tell Takeru I said hey! -- You.
Will do. Have fun and send me pictures of the cupcakes when you’re done -- Oikawa.
Aye-aye, monsieur capitan! -- You. Oikawa scoffed, an incredulous and amused smirk on his lips as he imagined you giving a ridiculous salute.
“Y/n?” Oikawa looked to Iwaizumi and saw that he also had his phone in his hands.
“Yeah, she’s hanging out with Makki and Mattsun right now.”
“I know,” Iwaizumi replied with a chuckle. He held up his phone and waved it a little as he continued, “she invited me over to make cupcakes and play videogames.”
“Are you gonna go?” Iwaizumi paused a moment before shaking his head.
“Nah, I’m not really in the mood.”
“Yeah,” Oikawa started, slipping his phone into his pocket and sighing. “Same.”
The boys walked in silence, a heavy and tense atmosphere slowly settling over them as if indicating the start of a storm. A few minutes passed before, eventually, Iwaizumi turned to Oikawa and spoke.
“So, about earlier.” Oikawa looked at his friend and saw a deep concern in his eyes. And when he saw it, Oikawa realized for the first time how fortunate he was to have a friend who cared as much as Iwaizumi did. “Wanna talk about it?”
“Yeah,” Oikawa started, looking down at his feet and swallowing nervously. “Just...gimme a sec.”
“Take your time.”
Oikawa clenched his jaw as he racked his brain for how to start the conversation. He kicked at the tiny pebbles on the sidewalk and furrowed his eyebrows. Finally, he realized that there would never be a right way to start, so he decided to just say whatever came to mind. And so, clinging onto that calmness that had been surrounding him all day, he started talking.
“I got this picture last night.”
Slowly, Oikawa explained everything that had happened. He explained how the envelope with the picture had been waiting for him when he got home from the match, and how he figured that someone had seen you at the arena and told Ai, who was the only person who could have possibly had the picture. He started to describe the empty bottles and mess of pills that appeared in the picture. Then, in as much detail as he could stomach, Oikawa revealed that the picture was of you and a man. A man who was at least twice your age. A man who had no business having… with a 14 year old. Especially a 14 year old who, from what Oikawa could tell, was barely conscious.
A wide gamut of emotions crashed around Oikawa as he relayed his story. With each word that he spoke, the calmness that he desperately held onto threatened to shatter. But when he looked to Iwaizumi and saw his strong and resolute demeanor, Oikawa found the strength and courage to carry on. Eventually, Oikawa’s story came to an end, and he finished it with his phone call to Toshi.
“I’m going to see him after I shower and stuff,” Oikawa quietly said, looking tiredly at Iwaizumi. “I’m hoping he’ll know what to do since he’s a lawyer. Especially since I’m in way over my head here and have no idea where to even begin.”
Iwaizumi stayed silent, looking down at his feet as Oikawa’s words hung in the air. The setter watched his friend carefully, looking for any kind of reaction. And, for a split second, Oikawa saw a strange emotion flash across the ace’s face before it was replaced by an impenetrable poker face. Iwaizumi looked up at Oikawa and took a deep breath before speaking.
“Have you talked to y/n about it?” Oikawa glanced down at his feet, frowned, and shook his head.
“No,” Oikawa quietly started. Then, he looked back to Iwaizumi and continued, “I’m not sure how to or even what to say.” Iwaizumi paused a moment and looked up to the sky.
“Well,” the ace said, looking back to Oikawa. “What do you want to say?” Oikawa furrowed his eyebrows and glanced down. But he didn’t have to think long as he knew exactly what he wanted to say.
“I wanna tell her that I love her and that no matter what happened I’m never gonna stop.”
“Then why don’t you?” Oikawa looked to Iwaizumi and sighed.
“Because,” the setter started, giving a small frown. “I don’t wanna be the first one to bring it up. There’s a reason she’s never said anything before, and I don’t want to force her to have a conversation that she’s not ready to have.” Oikawa waited for Iwaizumi’s response, but when the ace didn’t even look his way, Oikawa furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.
“What’s wrong?” Oikawa asked.
“Nothing’s wrong, I just...” Iwaizumi replied, finally looking at Oikawa. “Do you really feel that way?”
“Yeah, of course.” Oikawa paused a moment, pursed his lips slightly, and turned his face towards the stars. “ I don’t know what she’s going through, but,” Oikawa looked back to Iwaizumi, “whatever she’s feeling is bad enough to make her not want to tell anyone about it. The last thing I want is to make things harder for her than it already is.”
“You’re not mad at her? For not saying anything?” Oikawa’s eyebrows raised in surprise at Iwaizumi’s question.
“Why would I be mad? I can’t force her to talk about something she doesn’t want to. If she’s not ready to say anything, then she’s not ready.”
“You’re right,” Iwaizumi quietly responded, kicking at the pebbles by his feet. Suddenly, he looked to Oikawa with some kind of emotion in his eyes. “Do you think any differently about her?”
“What?” Oikawa asked, quirking an eyebrow at his friend. “What do you mean?” Iwaizumi looked away.
“Like, has your opinion about her changed?”
“Of course not. It’s not her fault what happened to her. No matter what happened or how it happened, it’s never gonna be her fault.” Oikawa paused a moment, then added, “For anyone who goes through something like that, it’s never their fault.”
Iwaizumi stayed silent, staring down at his feet and slowing his pace until he was standing still. Oikawa stood next to him, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion. An eternity of silence seemed to pass as Oikawa waited for his friend to say something. But when he didn’t, Oikawa spoke first.
“What’s wrong?” Oikawa watched as Iwaizumi bit his bottom lip and shove his hands into his pockets. Then, slowly, Iwaizumi replied in a voice just barely above a whisper.
“I, uhm…” Iwaizumi glanced up at Oikawa. “I understand.”
“What do you mean?” Iwaizumi turned his head away and took a deep breath.
“I know what y/n’s going through. The blackmail and being… you know.” Oikawa furrowed his eyebrows in confusion before he was hit with a devastating realization.
“Oh.” He felt his heart drop into his stomach and his eyes widened in shock. Emotions began to well up inside of him, the most prominent ones being worry and heartache. He ran his tongue roughly over the sore on the inside of his cheek. The stinging sensation kept Oikawa grounded just enough for him to be the strong one now. For his friend. “I’m so sorry.” A pause. “Thank you for telling me. For trusting me enough to tell me.”
Iwaizumi looked to Oikawa, his eyes wide in surprise. Oikawa returned the look with a soft smile. The two boys stared at each other for a moment. Then two. Then three. Then, what started as a moment of a friend comforting another friend turned into an extremely awkward and uncomfortable moment.
“Uhm,” Oikawa started, clearing his throat, pursing his lips, and glancing away. “I’m not... really sure what to say next.” Suddenly, Oikawa knew exactly what to say, and he looked back at Iwaizumi. “I’m here for you, though. You’re my best friend, and I’m always going to be here for you.”
“Thanks,” Iwaizumi replied with a small but amused smile. A moment of silence passed before the smile faded into a sorrowful look in his eyes. Looking down and away from Oikawa, Iwaizumi mumbled, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before.”
“No. Don’t be sorry. That’s nothing to be sorry about.”
“Thanks.” Oikawa watched his friend carefully, his heart breaking a little more with every passing second that Iwaizumi didn’t speak.
Finally, and as carefully as Oikawa could, he asked, “Do you want to talk about it?”
Iwaizumi continued to stay silent, unable to meet his friend’s gaze. Oikawa wanted nothing more than to blurt out all the questions and words of comfort that raced through his mind. To rush to his friend’s aid and tell him that everything was going to be okay. But something inside of Oikawa knew that it wasn’t the time or place to do something like that. So, instead, Oikawa let Iwaizumi take control of the conversation so that the ace could talk freely and uninterrupted. Finally, Iwaizumi hesitantly looked at Oikawa and started speaking in a quiet voice.
“Do you remember that girl I dated first year?”
“The psycho bitch who Makki, Mattsun, and I all planned to murder because of how horrible she treated you?”
“Yeah… I-- uhm.. she...” Iwaizumi stopped and looked away, a strange look in his eyes that Oikawa perceived as a desperate desire to both continue talking and to run away.
“It’s okay, take your time,” Oikawa softly said, echoing what Iwaizumi had said before when Oikawa had trouble finding the words to say. Iwaizumi silently nodded. He mashed his lips together and curled them inwards before letting them roll slowly back out. Then, Iwaizumi took in a deep breath and slowly let it out before looking back to Oikawa.
“While we were dating, I found out something about myself.”
“What was it?”
“That…” Iwaizumi glanced away. “I’m not exactly into girls.” Oikawa bit his bottom lip, but not out of surprise. It was to try and stop the small and proud smile forming on his lips. Then, carefully, Oikawa responded with what he had been wanting to say since the Tokyo trip.
“I know.” Iwaizumi whipped his head to look at Oikawa. “I’m not an idiot, I figured it out pretty quickly.”
“What?”
“Sora?” Oikawa let his grin show, and it turned into a wicked smirk as Iwaizumi gawked at him. Then, Oikawa said what Iwaizumi had said all those months ago when Oikawa finally admitted that he had feelings for you. “You’re not subtle, shithead.”
Iwaizumi scoffed, an incredulous smile forming on his lips. “Why didn’t you say anything before?”
“I figured you’d tell me when you were ready,” Oikawa responded with a small shrug and soft smile.
The tension in the ace’s face seemed to melt away, and Oikawa waited for just a few more seconds before prompting the rest of the conversation.
“What happened?” Oikawa asked in a gentle and even tone. Iwaizumi stared blankly at the setter for a moment, then sighed and started to move forwards again. Oikawa stayed close by his friend’s side, silently grateful that his anticipation induced anxiety could be walked off.
“I tried to talk to her about it and break up,” Iwaizumi started, staring straight ahead. “But she got really mad. I guess she thought that it was her fault that I was… well,” Iwaizumi turned to Oikawa and gave a small, pained smile. “Not straight…”
“Jesus,” Oikawa breathed, just barely comprehending the gravity of Iwaizumi’s words through the growing anger inside of him.
“Yeah,” Iwaizumi quietly said, looking forward again. He paused for a long while, and the two walked in silence until Iwaizumi sucked in a deep breath and continued. “She said that all I needed was to... be with a girl. Then I wouldn’t be so “confused”.”
Then, the words seemed to just pour out of Iwaizumi as if they were part of a flood that had been held back for far too long, and Oikawa hung onto every word so that he would never forget what his friend had gone through.
“I didn’t want to, and I told her no. But she threatened to tell the whole school if I didn’t. I didn’t know what to do, and I was scared of everyone finding out. So I just let her do whatever she wanted to me. It wasn’t until things got really bad that I finally worked up the courage to break up with her.” Iwaizumi gave a short and scornful laugh before finishing. “I guess she couldn’t stand the idea of people thinking that she “made” me gay, so she never said anything to anyone.”
“God,” Oikawa whispered, forcing down the boiling anger inside of him. All Oikawa wanted to do was give into his visceral reaction, to let loose all the vicious words of hate and disgust he felt towards that girl. He wanted an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, a punishment that would balance out the pain that Iwaizumi had suffered. But Oikawa held it all in because he knew that anger and rage wasn’t what this friend needed in that moment. So, instead, Oikawa turned to Iwaizumi and said, “I’m so sorry that that happened to you.”
“Yeah,” Iwaizumi quietly said. “Me too.”
Oikawa stared down at his feet and racked his brain for something else to say or do. Then, he suddenly remembered what Iwaizumi had said to him about how to help someone in emotional distress. Something that, Oikawa just then realized, Iwaizumi had learned from first hand experience. Slowly, Oikawa looked to Iwaizumi and asked, “Is there anything I can do? To help?” A pause.
“I’m okay for now, just being able to talk about it helps,” Iwaizumi replied, looking gratefully at Oikawa. “Thanks for listening.”
“Of course. If there’s anything you ever need. Anything at all.” Oikawa pointedly stared at Iwaizumi. No other words needed to be exchanged as Oikawa’s tone and expression said it all. And Iwaizumi understood.
“I will,” Iwaizumi said with a small nod. “Thanks.”
Oikawa returned the nod before turning his face towards the sky and giving a silent sigh. In the past 24 hours alone, Oikawa experienced a torrent of emotions that he had never felt before, not even when he first hurt his knee. And, in that moment, a crushing guilt settled on his chest as he thought back to how poorly he had handled his injury when the two most important people in his life suffered a far worse pain alone and in silence.
“I wish,” Oikawa quietly started before looking at Iwaizumi with a helplessness in his eyes, “There was something I could say or do that would make it all better. For you and for y/n.” Then, much to Oikawa’s surprise, Iwaizumi gave a small smirk.
“It wouldn’t be life if it were that easy.” Oikawa lightly chuckled at the statement, beyond relieved to know that, despite whatever Iwaizumi was feeling, the ace was still able to make light of such a heavy situation.
“You’re right.”
“Of course I’m right.”
Oikawa scoffed, an incredulous smile on his lips, and Iwaizumi smirked as he chuckled. The thick and tense atmosphere that had settled over the boys slowly dissipated, and was replaced by a feeling that could only be elicited by the bonds of brotherhood. And both Oikawa and Iwaizumi sensed it.
“Do you want me to come with you to see Toshi?” Iwaizumi asked, looking at Oikawa.
“Yeah. Actually, I was just about to ask you to come,” Oikawa replied with a smile. “I don’t think I can do this alone.” A pause. “I don’t wanna do this alone.”
“No one should have to go through something like this alone.” At their surface, Iwaizumi’s words were meant to be comforting and reassuring. But, to Oikawa, they held a different secondary sentiment. One that Oikawa also felt in that moment.
“Why don’t you stay over at my place tonight? We can pick up some pizza after we talk to Toshi and watch movies or something.” Iwaizumi gave a small and grateful smile.
Summary: What happens when you take a kid and force them to be a villain? Chaos. Chaos is what happens.
Author: SleepDeprivedIdiot
Fiction MasterList
SleepDeprivedIdiot MasterList
_._._._._._._._.
Chapter 1 >> Chapter 2: Wormy 6.9 >> Chapter 3
0800, Giran @ Warehouse on the corner of Amestad and 9th.
The Kid had gotten the message from the Commission earlier that morning through a secured email on a Commission-issued cellphone. Attached to the email was a grainy photo of the man named Giran. It showed a greasy, middle-aged man with round framed glasses and a lit cigarette hanging from his lips. After seeing the photo, The Kid had affectionately renamed Giran to, what he felt like was, a much more appropriate name.
“Creepy Uncle just had to pick the only day it’s supposed to snow this week for this stupid meet-up,” The Kid angrily muttered to himself as he pulled the hood of his hoodie up and over his beanie. Blindingly white snow flurried from the sky and all around The Kid as he crouched behind the ledge of a building across the street from a warehouse.
A bitterly cold wind rushed around The Kid that made him shiver violently. All he wore to protect him from the elements was an old hoodie, some ripped jeans, black converse, a beanie, and a surgical mask. The Kid’s fingers were all but frozen solid, and he had lost feeling in his toes over an hour ago. Had it not been for the mask, The Kid was almost certain the tip of his nose would have been frostbitten.
“And of course he had to pull the old villain cliche of meeting in an abandoned warehouse,” The Kid grumbled, pulling the sleeves of his hoodie over his hands. “He should’ve picked a hot spring.”
It had been a little over a month since The Kid had gotten “recruited” by the Commission, and he had spent the entire time tracking down every possible lead that could get him close to either Dabi or the League of Villains. Finally, he managed to acquaint himself with a sleazy old man who seemed to have a penchant for… younger boys. The man had told The Kid about Creepy Uncle and how, as an arms dealer, Creepy Uncle probably would have the most information about the League of Villains.
The Kid had passed this information along to the Commission who dug up all the information they could find on the man. Fast forward a month and multiple police investigations later, The Kid found himself staking out a warehouse on a freezing December morning.
“I swear to god if this guy doesn’t show up, I will shoot someone,” The Kid spat as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. As if on cue, a lone figure appeared on the horizon, walking towards the warehouse. When it came closer, The Kid saw the trail of smoke from a lit cigarette. “About fucking time.”
The Kid intently watched Giran make his way to the warehouse doors. When he got there, he glanced around and, when he looked up to where The Kid was perched, The Kid dove under the edge of the building and prayed to god that the man hadn’t seen him. As The Kid laid face down, the snow on the ground started to melt and seep through his hoodie, sending a shiver up his already frozen spine.
“I hope I get pneumonia and die,” The Kid annoyedly huffed. “Then I can haunt the boss’s ass for the rest of eternity.”
Gingerly, The Kid leaned up and peered over the edge of the building to find Giran stepping inside the warehouse. Giving a sigh of relief, The Kid pushed himself up and hugged his arms tightly around him in a vain attempt to warm himself.
“I guess it’s show time.”
Slowly, The Kid stood up, took a small step back, and lunged forwards. He blipped from the top of the building to underneath a broken window on the back of the warehouse. The Kid had scoped out the entire warehouse over the past week so that he could Blip to any area in or around the warehouse with relative ease. He also hid tiny recording devices throughout the warehouse, at the order of the Commission, to pick up any chatter.
The Kid sat under the window and reached into his pocket dimension to take out a little black remote. He pressed a button and saw a flashing red light to indicate that devices were all turned on and recording. Then, he strained his ears to listen for any movement or noises. A couple minutes of silence passed before The Kid hesitantly stood up to peak through the window. And, just as he did, he heard a voice.
“Nice to see you again, gentlemen.” The Kid quirked an eyebrow and carefully looked inside to find three people and a black shadow wearing a bart-tender uniform standing next to crates in the middle of the warehouse. The Kid instantly recognized one of the men as Dabi.
“What the fuck?” The Kid breathed, his eyes wide in shock and confusion. “When’d they get here?” The Kid had been watching the warehouse since the sunrose and he was absolutely certain that there were no people inside the whole while.
“Did you bring the supplies?” one of the men asked. The Kid stared at the man who spoke, furrowed his eyebrows, and pursed his lips. He recognized him from pictures the Commission had shown him of the League of Villains. But, despite the man’s distinctive appearance due to the disembodied hand covering his face, The Kid could not, for the life of him, remember the man’s name.
“I now dub thee... Mr. Handsie,” The Kid quietly mumbled, giving a nod of approval at the nickname.
“I did,” Giran replied. “Did you bring the payment?” He continued to stare at the three men and the shadow, and when the shadow spoke, The Kid’s mouth hung open in shock.
“The money has been wired to your account.”
“Holy fuck,” The Kid breathed, staring intently at the shadow. “It’s a talking fog blob. That’s so cool.” The Kid watched as Giran took his phone out of his pocket and pressed the screen.
“Looks like it’s all there,” Giran said. “I’ll bring the supplies to you at the usual place.”
“By tonight,” Mr. Handsie firmly demanded. “Don’t be late.”
“Yessir,” Giran replied in a mocking tone. “Is there anything else I can do for you, sir? Get you some moisturizer perhaps?”
At that, before he could stop himself, The Kid let out a short and loud laugh. As soon as the sound left his lips, The Kid dropped to the ground and slapped his hands over his mask.
“Who’s there?” The Kid felt his blood run cold, and his heart started beating wildly in his chest. A deafening silence fell over The Kid as he debated whether he should abandon ship or wait it out. Seconds ticked by like hours while The Kid drowned in anxiety and fear. Finally, he moved into a crouched position and prepared to lunge forwards.
Suddenly, The Kid heard a click, and he whipped his head around to see the three men and the shadow standing a mere 20 feet away from him. Dabi held a raging, blue flame in his hand, but The Kid’s eyes were hyper focused on the gun in Giran’s hand that was pointed straight at him. The Kid felt his heart drop into his stomach and his breath get stuck in his throat as adrenaline flooded his system. Every fiber in his body screamed for him to run, but he couldn’t move a muscle.
“And who might you be?” Giran asked, waving the gun at The Kid.
“Your mom,” The Kid instinctively replied, silently screaming at himself for his ill-timed, stress-induced, defense mechanism.
“You little--”
“Who sent you?” the one The Kid named “Mr. Handsie” interrupted, stepping in front of the gun.
“Definitely not the police.” The Kid mashed his lips together under his mask, desperately praying that that would keep his mouth shut. He slowly stood up, bringing his hands up in front of him.
“Since when does the police hire kids?” Dabi questioned, taking a step towards The Kid.
“It’s a long story.”
“Well, unfortunately for you, kid,” Giran started, a sickening grin spreading across his lips as he pushed Mr. Handsie out of the way. “I have no qualms about killing police officers. No matter how young.”
The Kid’s eyes widened, and he ducked to the side as the sound of a gunshot pierced through the air. In the blink of an eye, he lunged forwards and blipped back onto the rooftop of the building across the street from the warehouse and immediately started to sprint across the roof, blipping from building to building. He wasn’t sure how far or long he had run before The Kid made a final blip and landed in an alley next to a bustling street. He stood still for a moment, his heart still beating wildly in his chest, and glanced all around him to see if anyone had followed him. When he saw no one, he breathed a sigh of relief and relaxed his muscles.
Suddenly, his head began to swim as he felt a throbbing ache in his shoulder. In a confused daze, he glanced down to see a dark red spot spreading over his hoodie and extending down his arm. He stared at it for just a moment longer before black dots started littering his vision. The last thing he perceived as his consciousness slipped away was the feeling of his body hitting the ground.
__________
The Kid’s eyes fluttered open. His mind was hazy, his sight blurred, and his body as heavy as lead. He could just barely make out the sound of sirens and the feeling of bumps and jolts. A moment later, his eyes drooped shut.
When The Kid finally woke again, he was greeted by bright lights and the sounds of a rather heated conversation. His mind was still too fuzzy to make sense of what was being said, but he managed to catch the words “he could’ve died.” The Kid clung onto the words, using them as an anchor to pull his mind out of its daze. After a few moments, The Kid’s mind cleared enough for him to finally realize that he was staring at a white ceiling.
He tried to turn his head, but it barely moved. Instead, he let his eyes trail around the room, and he saw an IV bag suspended next to his bed. He followed the line of the IV to his arm, and slowly came to the realization that he was in the hospital. Then, he let his eyes look towards the sound of the voices, and he saw Hawks and the boss. Hawks looked beyond pissed while the boss remained calm and unphased. The Kid stared at them, watching as Hawks angrily gestured with his hands.
“I told you not to send him,” Hawks spat. “He has absolutely no training in surveillance or hand-to-hand combat, and he has the impulse control of a 2 year old.” The boss remained silent as Hawks glared at him, and The Kid grimaced slightly as he sucked in a breath.
“I resent that,” The Kid somehow managed to croak out. It then briefly occurred to The Kid that spite was an incredibly strong motivator as, despite how out of it he was, he refused to let Hawks of all people insult him. Hawks and the boss whipped their heads towards The Kid, and Hawks rushed to his bedside.
“Hey,” Hawks breathed with a small, relieved smile. “You’re up.”
“No, I’m just sleep-talking with my eyes open,” The Kid retorted, his words slowly growing more clear. Then, much to The Kid’s surprise, Hawks gave a small chuckle.
“Regardless, you’re awake.” The Kid stared at the hero for a moment before shifting a little to try and sit up. But the second he moved, a piercing pain shot up his arm, and his body stiffened.
“Ow.”
“Don’t move too much, you might rip a stitch.” The Kid squeezed his eyes shut, willing away the pain in his shoulder. Suddenly, his eyes snapped open, and he turned his head to face the boss and Hawks.
“I got shot.” As the words left his mouth, anxiety, panic, and terror welled up inside of him. But the intensity of those emotions paled in comparison to the immense rage that overtook him.
“What did you see at the warehouse?” the boss asked.
“Are you shitting me!? I got fucking shot!” The Kid yelled, feeling something inside of him snap. He gritted his teeth and pushed himself to sit up, his hospital gown slipping off his shoulder to reveal a large gauze held in place by several layers of bandages. The Kid glared at the boss, his anger drowning out the sharp pain he felt.
“Calm down,” the boss demanded, scowling at The Kid.
“No! You of all people do not get to tell me to calm down!”
“Kid,” Hawks gently interjected. The Kid shot him a glare when the boss spoke again.
“You only have yourself to blame for laughing. We heard it on the recording,” the boss stated in a matter-of-fact tone. The Kid’s mouth hung open as he stared in shock at the boss, the rage inside of him bubbling up and over. A tense and deathly silence fell between the two before The Kid spoke again.
“Get out,” The Kid started, a dark furry clouding his features. “Get out, now.”
“Tell me what you saw at the warehouse,” came the boss’s firm order.
“Get out!” The Kid roared, using his uninjured arm to jab a finger towards the door.
“Go,” Hawks demanded, turning to the boss and pointing at the door. The boss narrowed his eyes at Hawks, a deep frown on his lips, before turning on his heels and walking towards the door. The Kid watched as the man left, breathing harshly and clenching his teeth at the searing pain in his shoulder. When the door shut behind the boss, a heavy silence fell over the room. Finally, Hawks turned towards The Kid, but, before he could say anything, The Kid held up a finger.
“Don’t,” The Kid spat, glaring at Hawks. “I’m not in the mood.”
“Kid.”
“I swear to god, you overgrown chicken nugget, I will eat you. Shut the fuck up.” Hawks stared at The Kid a moment, then gave a grand sigh as he hung his head and crossed his arms. The wings on his back drooped down, and Hawks shook his head before looking up at The Kid.
“Five minutes,” Hawks started, an annoyance in his eyes and a hardness in his tone. “Can you stop being a brat for just five minutes and listen?”
“No. Get out or next time you’ll have more than just rotting eggs to worry about.”
“Listen here you little shit,” Hawks snapped, taking a menacing step forwards and jabbing a finger towards The Kid. “I’m trying to help you.”
“I never asked for your help!”
“Will you just listen to me for once in your goddamn life?!”
“Or what? You’ll shoot me?” Hawks glared darkly at The Kid, and a tense silence fell between the two of them as they stared each other down.
“Is this all just a joke to you?” Hawks slowly asked, his words dripping with anger as the feathers on his wings rustled and stood on edge. “You know, you’re lucky the bullet didn’t hit any major arteries or we’d probably be sitting in a morgue right now!”
At that, The Kid felt his chest constrict around his lungs, and a terrifying panic overtook him. He started clawing at his chest, desperately trying to take a breath, as a deafening ringing sounded in his ears and Hawk’s implication thundered in his mind: he could’ve died.
“Kid? Are you okay?”
But The Kid could barely process what Hawks was saying. All he could think about was how close he was to having died, to being killed. A few inches to the right and the bullet would have hit his neck. A few inches down and the bullet could’ve hit his heart. The Kid’s head started to feel light and dizzy, and his heart threatened to pound out of his chest as he gasped for air. Suddenly, he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder.
“Don’t touch me!” The Kid shouted, slapping the hand away and throwing a worried Hawks a glare. “I don’t like touching! Why do people keep touching me?!”
“Okay, okay, I’m sorry,” Hawks quickly replied, holding his hands up in front of him and taking a small step back. “No touching.”
The Kid turned his gaze to his hands and forced himself to take a deep breath. He held it until his lungs started to burn before slowly exhaling and repeating the process. Slowly, he felt his erratic heartbeat calm and the ringing in his ears died down to a dull hum. His breathing started to come more easily to him, but the anxiety and fear still remained.
“I shouldn’t have said that,” Hawks quietly said. The Kid slowly looked at him and saw a look of concern and devastating guilt on his face. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”
The Kid stayed silent for a moment, staring blankly at Hawks. Suddenly, he felt a deep and desperate desire to get out. He glanced around the room and shifted a little, slyly placing a hand over the spot where the IV was inserted into his arm.
“Was it a through and through?” The Kid asked, his eyes locking onto Hawks’ while he sneakily unplugged the IV tube. Hawks furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.
“What?”
“The bullet. Was it a through and through?”
“Uhm... yeah. The doctor said it passed straight through muscle.”
“How big was it?”
“Probably a .45 based on the entry wound.”
“Awesome,” The Kid mumbled, sitting up straight and twisting his body slightly away from Hawks.
“Why--” Before Hawks could finish, The Kid threw his body to the side and blipped behind Hawks. Pain erupted throughout The Kid’s arm at the sudden movement, but he grit his teeth and blipped out of the room, leaving a stunned Hawks behind.
_______
Later that day, as the sun sank below the horizon, The Kid found himself lying under several blankets on his futon in the abandoned factory he had been squatting in for the past few months. The pain in his shoulder had been reduced to a barely noticeable, dull ache thanks to the random painkillers he “borrowed” from the hospital before he blipped away. He had also changed into spare clothes he kept in his pocket dimension as soon as he had gotten outside the hospital, but he was a little more than peeved when he realized that he had forgotten his beanie at the hospital.
“They better not throw it away,” The Kid grumbled, snuggling deeper into his cocoon of blankets. The panic and fear he had been feeling subsided when he had left the hospital, but it loomed still in the back of his head. Suddenly, The Kid heard one of his phones buzzing on the coffee table. He turned to see that it was the one the Commission had issued to him.
The Kid stared at it for a moment, the bright screen flashing to indicate an incoming call, before giving a grand sigh. He gingerly moved to pick it up, and when his uninjured arm came out from under the blankets, the freezing air bled through his hoodie and sent a chill throughout his body. Quickly picking up the phone, he settled back into his blankets and looked at the caller ID. It was a number with a Commission area code.
“I’m gonna set that man on fire,” The Kid muttered before answering the call and pressing the phone to his ear. “What?”
“Uhm, Kid?” The Kid furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.
“Who is this?”
“Takeshi. Yokoyama Takeshi?”
“Oh, hi, Mr. Takeshi,” The Kid sheepishly responded “Sorry, I, uh, thought you were someone else.”
“It’s fine,” Mr. Takeshi chuckled. “I just wanted to call and ask if you were okay? You didn’t show up at the post-mission briefing, and I was getting a little worried.”
“Ha, I’m doin’ just fine,” The Kid replied before biting his cheek at how sarcastic he sounded.
“Did something happen?” Mr. Takeshi asked, his voice full of concern. Suddenly, the day’s events flashed through The Kid’s mind, and he felt his heart jump into his throat.
“No, no,” The Kid quickly reassured, ignoring the growing tightness in his chest. “Everything’s okay. The mission was uneventful.”
“Alright,” Mr. Takeshi slowly replied. “Well, when you get the chance, can you send me your official report of what happened? I need to upload it to the server.” Then, a wicked smirk spread across The Kid’s lips as the anxiety began to fade into a mischievous intrigue.
“Can do. Gimme like 15 minutes.”
“Great! I’ll keep and eye out for it.”
“‘Kay. Is there anything else?”
“I don’t think so, but I’ll let you know. Take it easy for the rest of the night, I’m sure you’re tired after today’s assignment.”
“Deadly.” It was at that moment The Kid realized how desperately he needed to work on stopping and thinking first before saying anything. “I’ll send you the report ASAP, bye.”
“Wait!” The Kid froze, cringing in worry as he waited for some kind of concerned reply. “Do you have plans for dinner later?”
“No? Why?” The Kid responded in surprise.
“My wife is making pork cutlet. Why don’t you come over?”
“Ah, I’m okay. Thanks, though.”
“Are you sure? I could at least pack some for you to take.” The Kid pursed his lips and debated whether he should accept the offer or not. Then, his stomach loudly growled.
“Bet.”
“Bet?”
“It’s slang for “sounds good”,” The Kid chuckled.
“Okay, now you’re just making me feel old,” Mr. Takeshi laughed.
“My bad.”
“It’s fine, I should get used to it if we’re going to keep working together. I’ll text you my address later when she’s finished making it.” The Kid smirked.
“Bet.” Mr. Takeshi laughed once more.
“I’ll see you soon.” With that, Mr. Takeshi hung up, and The Kid smiled in amusement. He laid in silence, imagining a steamy and delicious pork cutlet with his name written all over it. After a few minutes, he slowly sat up and winced slightly at the stiffness in his shoulder. The cold air rushed all around him, and he quickly wrapped two blankets around his shoulders, grabbed both phones, stood up, and made his way to his desk.
He sat down on a stack of two wooden boxes that acted as his make-shift chair, and he pushed away the bandages, gauze, antibacterial ointment, and disinfectant spray that littered the table top. He placed the phones down, reached into his pocket dimension, and brought out his laptop. He gently set it down and booted it up, smirking to himself the whole while.
It took only a couple minutes for The Kid to type up a bland and stereotypical action report. He made sure to include that “Creepy Uncle” had met with “Mr. Handsie”, Dabi, and the “talking fog blob” to give whatever supplies the latter three had ordered. When The Kid finished his report, he went into the meta-data of the document and started amending the code.
He commented out a line to include the part of the mission where he got shot and ended up in the hospital, and he added several explicit comments about the boss’s intelligence and places where the man could shove various body parts. Once he felt satisfied with his comments, he appended code he had written for a computer worm that he had affectionately named “Wormy 6.9”.
“Time to go to work, Wormy,” The Kid muttered under his breath, smirking like a madman. He finished with a flourished gesture of his arms, immediately regretting the action when pain exploded in his shoulder. Kicking himself mentally, he still managed a devious smile as he sent the email to Mr. Takeshi. “Make daddy proud.”
The Kid closed out of his email, taking a moment to silently boast to himself for a “job well done”, then opened his internet browser and logged onto his conspiracy blog. There were several notifications from people who had commented on his posts. Most of them came from other conspiracy theorists who wanted to add to The Kid’s posts. Other comments were from angry netizens that berated The Kid for spreading “lies” about heroes. The rest were jokes and compliments left by amused fans who requested more conspiracies about a variety of different heroes. The Kid quickly read through all the comments, leaving likes for the ones that made him laugh, replying to other conspiracies, and blasting the haters.
When he had gone through a good chunk of them, The Kid carefully stretched his arms in front of him. But before he could do anything else, his personal phone buzzed. When he saw a text from “Chicken Nugget”, he frowned. Hawks had texted and called him almost non-stop as soon as The Kid blipped out of the hospital. After about an hour of The Kid ignoring him, the hero finally stopped. Until just now.
Kid, I need you to say something to let me know you’re okay -- Chicken Nugget. The Kid stared at the message for a moment before giving a sigh and responding.
Something -- Kid.
The Kid placed his phone back down and turned his attention back to his blog. He opened a new, blank post and titled it “Conspiracy 81: Soulless, Smooth Brained Lizard Leading the Police?”
“Kiss my ass, Boss-man,” The Kid commented with a wicked smirk as he typed out the most ridiculous and idiotic conspiracy that he could come up with.
Most of the theories he posted were made up, but, every now and then, he sprinkled in theories grounded in truth to make his blog seem more credible. These “truths” came from his own investigations into various heroes as well as whatever information he gathered from the Commission’s servers that he had been routinely breaking into for the past two months (at least, it was two months according to the official record).
As The Kid wrote his post, he got an email from Mr. Takeshi saying that the report had been received and uploaded to the server. The news made The Kid giddy with excitement, and he quickly finished his theory and posted it to his blog before closing out the browser and opening the application he had made that linked with Wormy 6.9. He stared at a black screen for what seemed like an eternity when, suddenly, green lines of code started to appear on the screen.
“Show time,” The Kid said, dramatically shaking out the hand on the uninjured arm. He quickly went to work, furiously typing away as more lines of code continued to appear. The black screen disappeared and was replaced by a white screen filled with file-paths. He leaned back and smiled to himself before reaching into his pocket dimension and pulling out an external drive. A moment later, it was plugged into his computer, and he started searching through the Commission’s servers.
“Oh where, oh where, is that little file? Oh where, oh where, can it be?” The Kid mumbled the improvised lyrics to the children’s song as he quickly and expertly scanned through the file-paths. When he came across interesting files, he downloaded them onto his external drive and moved onto the next file.
He scoured through what seemed like an endless sea of information, growing more and more frustrated when he couldn’t find the file he was looking for. Then, finally, he stumbled across a hidden file-pathway that was embedded inside several obscure and seemingly mundane folders.
“Well, hello there, what’s this?” The Kid asked as he gave a proud smile. He clicked on the file-path and was immediately met with a password protected firewall.
“Lame,” The Kid scoffed. He went to work to try and break through the obstacle. It didn’t work. Then, he tried getting around it. That didn’t work either. The Kid furrowed his eyebrows and huffed, his fingers hovering over the keys on his laptop as he wracked his brain for another strategy. “I wonder…”
The Kid clicked back one pathway, opened a console from the Wormy app, typed in two lines of code, and watched as the entire hidden folder downloaded onto his drive. As it downloaded, The Kid opened his blog again and started replying to more comments that were left on his newest blog post about the boss. When he saw one particular comment from a certain poster, he smiled and excitedly responded.
Suddenly, his phone started buzzing, and The Kid just about fell off his boxes in surprise. Clutching his heart and giving a scowl, he sat up straight, pulled the blankets tightly around him, and looked at the caller ID. When he saw that “Chicken Nugget” was calling him, his scowl deepened.
He stuck his tongue out at the phone and ignored the call, returning his attention to his laptop and replying to more comments. A few minutes later, his phone buzzed once more, and The Kid looked to see that Hawks had texted him, demanding that The Kid pick up the phone. Giving an exasperated groan, The Kid sent one message back, and dutifully ignored the rest of Hawks’ replies.
He went back to replying to comments on his blog for a little bit until, eventually, he heard a chime that signalled the folder had finished downloading. With a triumphant smile, he closed out of his blog, opened his external drive, found the folder, gave a silent prayer, and clicked on it.
“Wow, I can’t believe that worked,” The Kid mused when the file opened to reveal a series of folders titled “confidential”. He started to search through each individual folder.
“Come on, come on,” The Kid muttered in frustration when he couldn’t find what he was looking for. Then, his attention was diverted by a folder named “Summer Camp”.
“What’s this?” The Kid whispered, his eyebrows furrowed in utter confusion. He clicked into the folder to find nested folders with different names. Most of them he recognized as pro-heroes, and he was just about to exit the folder when he saw a folder named “Hawks”. His eyebrows shot up and a curious smirk spread on his lips.
The Kid immediately clicked into the folder and found nearly a hundred records inside. He scrolled through all of them, excitement building in him about all the prospective conspiracy theories he would be able to post about the pro-hero. Suddenly, he stopped in his tracks when he came across a record titled “MIA”.
He quirked an eyebrow and opened the file. A document popped up on his screen, and The Kid recognized it as a cursory profile given to all pro-heroes that detailed their personal information as well as their quirks. Most of the personal information in the file, including the name, place of birth, birthdate, and family history, had “unknown” written in the space.
As he glanced through the document, his Commission phone buzzed with a text from Mr. Takeshi saying that the food was ready. The Kid replied that he would head over in a minute before turning his attention back to the file on his screen.
Under “Alias”, the name “Angel” was written, followed by an extremely detailed description of their quirk. He started to read the description, his cocked to the side and his eyebrow deeply furrowed. But, as he continued to read, his eyes widened and his jaw dropped.
“Woah, what the fuck? Who is this person?”
_________
Hawks dropped his keys onto his kitchen counter before heading to his fridge. He opened the door and peered inside, half-heartedly scanning the contents and frowning at the multiple containers filled with scrambled eggs. After a few seconds, he sighed and pushed the door shut.
“Take out it is,” he said to himself, fishing his phone out of his pocket and moving out of the kitchen. He plopped down on his couch, tugged off his gloves, and shrugged his jacket over his wings and off his shoulders. As he scrolled through his phone, he unconsciously rubbed his fingers together. A few minutes later, after placing an order for a pizza with banana peppers and jalapenos, he put his phone on the cushion next to him, slouched down, draped his wings over the back of the couch, and let his head fall back.
“Fuck,” he sighed, staring up at the ceiling. His thoughts flitted back to earlier that morning when he had gotten a call from the boss that The Kid was in the emergency room with a gunshot wound to the shoulder.
Shocked didn’t even begin to describe how Hawks had felt when he got the news. It took him all of two minutes to get to the hospital, and, when he saw The Kid lying unconscious, Hawks was met with an absolutely crushing guilt that exponentially intensified after he sent The Kid into a panic attack with his comment about the morgue. Add to that the rage that Hawks had felt when the boss seemed more preoccupied about the information that The Kid had gathered instead of The Kid, and it all left Hawks completely exhausted.
“This is insane, he’s just a kid,” the hero muttered, pressing the palms of his hands into his eyes. He held them there for a moment before letting his hands drop into his lap. Staring blankly down at them, Hawks sat in silence for a while and replayed every detail from the day in his head. Mixed emotions welled up inside of him ranging from guilt to anger, and the only image that seemed to stay in the forefront of his mind was of The Kid freaking out about having been shot.
Slowly, Hawks brought his jacket into his lap, reached into a pocket on the inside, and pulled out a green beanie. He stared at it a long while, turning it over in his hands and taking in every worn stitch and faded thread. After what seemed like an eternity of drowning in his own thoughts and emotions, he sighed and picked up his phone. When he turned it on, he saw a notification from over an hour ago about a new post to The Kid’s conspiracy blog.
“What now?” Hawks groaned. He tossed his jacket off to the side and placed the beanie into his lap as he tapped the notification. A moment later, the blog post opened and, as soon as Hawks saw the title, he gave another sigh. But, secretly, Hawks was relieved that The Kid was okay enough to be up to his usual, trouble-making antics.
Hawks began to read the post and, about two sentences in, he smirked. The whole thing was, essentially, a long-winded rant about the boss, and Hawks would have been lying if he said that he didn’t agree with some of the points The Kid had made. At the end of the post, Hawks saw several comments had been left. He glanced through them, barely paying attention to what had been written, when one comment suddenly caught his eye.
Ask him about the 2031 summer in Korea. I think you’ll find it interesting -- SilentZephyr
“What the hell?” Hawks whispered as he sat up straight and furrowed his eyebrows, the beanie in his lap falling to the floor. A deep frown settled on his lips, and he re-read the comment several times, growing more paranoid and suspicious with each pass. Quickly, Hawks typed out an anonymous response.
@SilentZephyr. I love Korean summers, we should swap stories -- anonymous (Hawks).
He posted his comment and refreshed the page every few minutes to see if SilentZephyr would respond. As he waited, a whirlwind of questions flew through his mind, the most prominent one being “how do they know about that mission?” followed by “who are they?”. Finally, after his last refresh, he saw a response. It was from The Kid.
Firstly, @anon, that’s creep af wth? Secondly, @SilentZephyr, you sure you don’t wanna team up? Your last couple tips were awesome and I think we’d make a great team -- BlogMaster (The Kid).
The Kid’s reply raised even more questions in Hawk’s mind, and he closed out of the blog to call The Kid’s personal cellphone. The dial tone rang and rang until Hawks was greeted by The Kid’s voicemail.
“I’m not ignoring your call, but if I am, it’s because I’m in a mood.”
Hawks rolled his eyes. He had been sent to The Kid’s voicemail too many times to count, but he still got annoyed every time he heard the recording. After the beep, Hawks left a message asking The Kid to call him back and hung up. He flipped back to the blog post and started to refresh the page again, seeing if SilentZephyr would respond. A few minutes later, they did.
@BlogMaster. Let’s see what you find first. Happy hunting -- SilentZephyr.
Hawks furrowed his eyebrows at the response, and exited out of the blog to text The Kid.
We need to talk, pick up the phone -- Hawks. A second later, The Kid responded.
Give me a minute, I can’t find my phone -- The Kid.
Okay -- Hawks.
Hawks sat back once more, and looked down to see the beanie on the floor. He quickly moved to pick it up and, as he looked at it, he was hit with a sudden realization. Giving the millionth The Kid-induced sigh that day, Hawks sent another text.
Summary: You and Kuroo were just two high school kids who were forced to grow up too fast. You had lost your mother in highschool and he had lost his just before highschool started. Through all the pain, tears, anger, frustration, and just missing your moms, you found each other in the stormy sea called life and became each other’s anchors.
Author: SleepDeprivedIdiot
SleepDeprivedIdiot MasterList
<Masterlist>
Chapter 1: Eggs and Curry
Chapter 2: The War Begins
Chapter 3: You’re okay. It’s going to be okay
Chapter 4: Surprise! It’s a double date
Experimental Interlude: Hey stupid, I love you
Chapter 5: Worst Kidnap Ever
Chapter 6: Vacuums and Trashbags
Chapter 7: I just want to love you
Chapter 8: You’re my “someone” feat. the Inebriator
Chapter 9: I fucked up....
Chapter 10: A Fuck Ton of Glitter
Chapter 11: I am hopelessly, absolutely, stupidly in love with you
Chapter 12: I love you too, you idiot
Chapter 13: Surprise! It’s another double date!
Chapter 14: Because we share one brain cell
Chapter 15: Memories (slight NSFW)
Chapter 16: Rhazhenka
Chapter 17: You’ve never met an oblivious guy?
Chapter 18: Kneepads and Nationals
Chapter 17.5: Troubleshooting Kenma’s Date
Chapter 19: Run
Chapter 20: Just a bunch of fucked up kids trying to make it in a fucked up world
Summary: Oikawa had a goal and a laid out path to get there. School, Nationals, University, Pro Team. No matter what happened, he never strayed from this path. Until the day of his accident. Suddenly, he was lost, unsure of how he would reach the goal he had spent his whole life working towards. Then he met you. And you taught him that getting lost didn’t mean you couldn’t find your way back. And that, sometimes, it made the journey that much better.
Author: SleepDeprivedIdiot
SleepDeprivedIdiot MasterList
Chapter 1: A Crash Landing
Chapter 2: Gunpowder and Engineers
Chapter 3: Yes, I know, I’m a shithead
Chapter 4: Kisses make everything better! (NSFW)
Chapter 5: Anonymous Commissions!
Chapter 6: Stars
Chapter 7: I’m so fucked....(NSFW)
Chapter 8: Explosive Popcorn and Apology Pineapples
Chapter 9: You’re not subtle, shithead
Chapter 10: I saw everything you absolute dumbass (NSFW)
Chapter 11: Our Playlist
Chapter 12: It’s Okay to Not be Okay ft. Taser Tag
romaincrisis
snowghoul
titsay
pixelskylines
andulkaphoto
turnnoffyourmind
tangentwithtanner
germansingergirl