link to part 1! (i would recommend reading it for context but this can be read alone as well!): sukidakara + teaser for part 3
synopsis. — not all crushes endure. some fade, and you and sugawara are left to the distance of outgrown infatuations. in their wake, a different member of the team sets their sights upon you.
pairing: sugawara x reader, ennoshita x reader, kiyoko x reader (if you squint)
notes: just a lil pinch of angst cuz life would be boring without it ;) part 3 will be fluffier don’t worry just enjoy this slice of angst for now teehee + my blinkies stopped generating so i had to use the original lmao
“Hm?” Kiyoko glances over at you inquisitively. You flick the cover of your book.
“Kiki,” You repeat, more decisively, “Is that a good nickname for you?”
Her mouth quirks. She’s gotten used to your randomness, “… Sure.”
“It’s a good one,” You decide, “Different from Koko, short and sweet. Kiki. Kiki. Kiki. Kiki.”
You try out a few more enunciations. Kiyoko rolls her eyes as she pushes her glasses up.
Kiki. She thinks on it for a spell. It’s cute, she supposes.
“Did you hear about the new café that opened near the school?” She asks, briefly glimpsing the title of your book as you close it: Anna Karenina.
“Oh, Pompom Café, right?” You tuck the book away into your backpack, glancing at her with bright eyes, “My cousin said there’s cats there so she’s applying to be a part-timer. Good place for dates.”
You grin widely, leaning forwards, “Got anyone in mind?”
She swats at your head. You duck, laughing, “I’m kidding, I’m kidding!”
“You’re as troublesome as ever,” Kiyoko sighs, pushing her glasses back up again, “…But I suppose we should go sometime.”
0 - All of Kiyoko’s other admirers
“So what happened with you two?”
Sugawara shrugs, letting out a quiet sigh, “We both sort of realized that it was infatuation, I guess. There wasn’t anything in particular we were attracted to except for the feelings themselves and sometimes that’s not enough.”
“Well, you said you liked them because they understood you, right? What about that?”
“They do— understand me, I mean. But, y’know, sometimes you just have to give it a try and realize you’re better off as friends.”
“Alright…” Daichi seems disappointed; to be fair he seems more emotionally invested in this than Sugawara himself, “What about your bunkasei date? Did something happen?”
“No, no, it went amazing,” Sugawara insists, “It really happened after the thrill of it all wore off. The crush just kinda faded after a few dates.”
“If you say so…” Daichi pouts a little; THE Sawamura Daichi pouts (WHAT IS UP WITH HIM????????).
Sugawara frowns, “What’s wrong? Did something happen with Michimiya-san?”
“No… it’s nothing…” Daichi sighs. Obviously there is something, but sulking Daichis are like children who don’t want to do something. You have to coax them, tempt them…. And wait.
Sugawara takes a sip of his hot chocolate. It’s already been nearly a month since the bunkasei date, strewn with more dates throughout. But in the recent weeks they have ceased after the two of you decided together that it would be best to stay friends, because—
“But you liked them so much!” Hinata cries out suddenly, “Why would you throw it all away like that?”
Sugawara had forgotten that Hinata was there. In fact he had forgotten entirely that he is still in the school gym, the team discussing his love life rather than beginning the practice. Even Coach Ukai and Takeda-sensei seem engaged.
He shifts a bit, having been leaning against the wall with his cup of hot chocolate. A few others, namely Tanaka and Narita (they look remarkably similar), are standing as well, although the rest of the team are mostly sitting, scattered on the floor.
Sugawara huffs a smile, “A lot of crushes are like that. You really like someone at first but you realize that they’re different from what you idealized and the infatuation passes.”
Hinata deflates a little, “…Oh…okay…”
The orange-head is too passionate to consider the prospect of letting any emotion go, Sugawara supposes. It comes naturally to those like himself; patient, altruistic, sophisticated. Relationships flow easily when you are able to swallow your emotions out of interference.
He hasn’t lied. He did like you, and it passed because eventually it was apparent to the both of you that your feelings were built off of nothing more than congeniality and the yearning for connection. He covets connection because he feels he should, and in the end he chased the feeling more than the person.
He isn’t a lonely person, but he is lonely the way all people are. Everyone is seeking connection; platonic, familial, romantic. In your case it is simply better off platonic.
The rest of the team remains quiet. Tanaka and Nishinoya had already whined for an entire pre-practice about the waste of the fruits of their wingman efforts, and everyone else either accepted the new development without major complaint or voiced them now, like Hinata.
To tell the truth, Sugawara is still a bit confused as to why they are all so immersed in his love life. Most of them have enough stuff going on in their lives to not need an additional source of gossip or entertainment. Is it something like kids watching their single parents date? Is this their strange way of acknowledging him as their mom or something? If he’s the mom would you have been the dad? Shouldn’t it be the other way—
Coach Ukai cuts into the silence at that, watching them all expectantly, “Volleyball time?”
“So yeah, we decided to call it off.”
You finish recounting the recent events to Michimiya, eating ice cream together after school. Newspaper club meetings are normally every day after school, but they’ve been cancelled for today as both Miyako and the club supervisor are absent.
“Sorry for ruining your dream of double dates with you and Daichi-kun,” You tap your mouth with the spoon a few times, watching the girl with an intensity softened by the daylight.
“I would need to confess to him for that,” Michimiya laughs lightly, trailing off into a frown, “I just don’t understand… Why? Don’t get me wrong, I support you no matter what, but you really liked Sugawara-san. It could’ve turned out great.”
“… I didn’t like him,” You answer, after a contemplative pause.
“I, uhm, it’s kinda complicated,” Your expression scrunches a bit, “It’s like, uh, I- I did like him. A lot. But it wasn’t the person, more so the connection of like-minded people, if that makes sense?”
Michimiya shakes her head slowly, “Uh…”
You bite the tip of the spoon, gaze darting between her and the table a few times before settling on her, “I…”
“I- I could like him for him. I could like the person, but what I was drawn to in the initial crush was the… well, I guess you could call it surface-level similarities.”
You grimace a little at how awkward you sound. Normally you’re a very eloquent person; talking about your feelings was never difficult or anything. What’s happened to you?
“Could you learn to like him?”
You let the spoon fall from your mouth, expression relaxing a bit out of its pensieveness, “What do you mean?”
Michimiya scoops some of her ice cream, the sprinkles clinging stubbornly to the spoon, “You said you’re able to like Sugawara, but he himself wasn’t really the focus of your crush, right?”
You give half a nod, “Uh, pretty much.”
“Okay,” The girl continues, “What if you learned to like him as a person? Like, re-crush on the person this time?”
“Re-crush?” You pause, gaze dwelling on the sprinkles in her ice cream.
“Of course, I’m not saying you should or need to or anything,” She backtracks quickly, “I’m here for you no matter what.”
You feel an almost overwhelming sense of warmth in your chest at her earnestness, and you take her hand and squeeze it tightly, “Thank you.”
Michimiya beams, “Always.”
“Why’s [Last Name]-senpai here as well?” Hinata’s eyes shift between you and Kiyoko, and then around the table of his teammates in desperate need of tutoring.
“Emotional support!” You chirp, fingers tapping rhythmically on a textbook.
“Emotional support,” Kiyoko sighs, distributing more copies of the textbook to the failing members of the boys’ volleyball team. She pauses suddenly, glancing at you, “Can you tutor as well?”
“Depends on the subject,” You answer cheerfully, “I can teach everything except moral education, but no one uses that anyway.”
“I’ll take Hinata and Tanaka,” She decides, branching off to a neighboring table and allowing you to revel in the dismayed faces of Nishinoya and Kageyama.
“Hmph, I wanted Kiyoko-san instead,” Nishinoya grumbles, as you seat yourself across the two of them.
“You’re not the first person who's said that,” You tell him, smiling coyly, “But if she sees that you’re able to do well without her you might become the first one she notices.”
The boy huffs, begrudgingly taking the textbook from you and flipping through it roughly.
Kageyama scoffs, “He’s mad about Suga, not Shimizu.”
You laugh lightly, “Oh, he liked Suga-san? My bad, I didn’t know.”
The black-haired boy frowns, brows furrowing sternly. You suppose he’s upset as well. Suga’s practically their mom or something like that.
“In all seriousness,” You relent, “sometimes things just don’t work out. It might not be anyone’s fault, maybe there weren’t even arguments. Crushes can just fizz out, just like that.”
“Not all attraction has to be profound to be important. You just have let go, you know?”
Nishinoya shakes his head, “…I don’t.”
“Ah, well,” You gesture lazily, “That’s probably a good thing.”
Ennoshita slips into the library at that moment, poking his head around before spotting the variegated-colored heads around the two tables.
He shuffles over between the two tables, placing one hand on Nishinoya’s head and the other on Tanaka’s.
“They’re all yours,” You toss him a textbook, sliding your backpack over your shoulders and accidentally knocking over the chair as you stand up.
“Actually, [Last Name]-senpai, I was wondering if you wanted to stay?” Ennoshita smiles at you hopefully. It befuddles you slightly. You can’t remember having ever interacted with the second-year beyond pleasantries and two-sentence exchanges. Your tongue rattles independent of your brain as you try to scourge your memory.
“Sorry, great literature calls,” You smile, righting the chair and hesitating for a moment before patting his shoulder, “And also Fufu— er, Miyako-chan’s wrath and violence for missing too many meetings.”
Ennoshita ducks his head shyly, “…Right… right, maybe next time?”
“Sure,” You agree, gaze breaking for a moment to glimpse Kiyoko’s reaction to it all. She looks faintly repulsed, but similarly confused.
You give a final wave to the six of them, mouth mildly downturned all the way through the newspaper club’s porch, across the sidewalks, past Sugawara’s front door, all the way home.
The dim lighting of the auditorium backstage is still bright enough to accentuate the pallid shade of Riki’s face, and you would’ve thought he was a ghost if not for his death grip on the microphone when you try to take it.
“How are you holding up?” You query gently, eventually coaxing the microphone from his trembling fingers with some soothing from Koko.
Haru’s voice echoes faintly in the backstage area as he continues to present the speech that had unfortunately been aborted in the face of Riki’s crippling glossophobia.
“I did so bad up there,” Riki whimpers, “Did you hear the way my voice cracked?”
“No one noticed,” Koko reassures him.
A few weeks back, on the day when you had tutored Karasuno for maybe two minutes at best, the newspaper club had once again begun creating their monthly speech and presentation on the school’s current affairs, upcoming events, general spirit, and other responsibilities shared with the student council. Each time, four different members are selected, and December’s assembly is both the first time Riki is chosen and the first time you all understand why his first time being chosen has been delayed for so long.
You glance towards the stage through the wings, catching Haru’s eye. He gestures subtly for you to join him on-stage.
“Hey, it’ll be okay,” You take his hands in yours, “You did good up there, and we shouldn’t have made you do something you didn’t want to.”
Haru starts to gesture more vigorously, and your eyes dart between the two of them. You squeeze Riki’s hands tightly, letting go of your cousin with a soft, “deep breaths, okay?”, before scrambling onto the stage.
Haru gives you a few moments to recalibrate yourself and espy which slide you’re on before he shoves you a microphone and you smile your easy grin and dismiss it all as some technical difficulties and continue the presentation with palms slick with sweat and a pounding heart.
Honestly, one would think you’re the one with glossophobia.
“I’m not mad at you, Rikiya,” Miyako sighs, “Only disappointed.”
“You sound like my mom,” Riki huffs. He’s recovered to his usual defiance, at least.
You stifle a laugh, “You do sound like her.” Your aunt has spoken those very words many times.
Miyako casts you a warning glare. You hold your hands up in surrender, “Sorry, I thought we were back to normal.”
“You should’ve told us that you were afraid of public speaking,” Miyako continues. You can tell that she’s trying her best to be compassionate, but it’s a bit difficult to grasp this message when she has arranged the tables into a business meeting with her and Riki at each end staring straight at each other, “We could’ve chosen someone else while finding a way to help you overcome it.”
This doesn’t provoke any response from Riki, for once.
Miyako rises from her chair, pulling the whiteboard in the back of the room to the center. She pauses, testing the markers a few times to no avail, “Could someone get the new ones from the storage room?”
“I’ll go,” You jump up readily. You’ve never liked sitting in the meetings anyway.
The storage room is down the hallway, near the gym. You neglect to close the door as you enter. You doubt the errand will take that long, even if you deliberately waste time.
Halfway through the second shelf, darkness strikes.
“It’s me,” The darkness says.
The lights flick back on. It is Kiyoko.
“Why’d you turn off the lights?!” You yelp, “You scared at least three reincarnations out of me!”
“Sorry,” She answers, reaching over and… patting your head a few times.
“…What are you doing?” You ask slowly, mind so flummoxed it’s frying your expression.
“Expressing affection,” Kiyoko starts stroking your hair, “I thought it might help.”
Okay, an alien has officially kidnapped her and stolen her body because WHAT IS HAPPENING?????
You attempt to speak a few times, words catching in the back of your throat before dying in your mouth.
“No offence, Kiki,” You start. The nickname feels strange in your mouth now that Kiyoko is suddenly acting so… affectionate, “But you’re acting really weird.”
“You are too,” She replies immediately.
You frown, smiling in that disarming, confused way, “…What do you mean?”
“You’ve been avoiding me,” Kiyoko discerns your expression intently for any signs of shame or guilt. She finds none outside of a bemused deer in headlights.
Her gaze dips for a moment, stepping back from you. She has always been taciturn, but this time when she speaks she is almost timid, “Was I too cold?”
“Cold?” You echo, “No, no, you’re very approachable actually, I don’t—“
You pause, “…Is that why you were— uh, trying to… express affection, as you said?”
“Yes, if that was the cause.”
“No, no, I—“ You need to stop and think. Kiyoko is in front of you and she looks vulnerable for once and you need to focus.
Kiyoko is a cold person, that much you have to admit. She barely shows anything in her face outside of elegance and her dispassion is actually the very reason that you like her.
On a surface level, she is truly very beautiful and you have always gravitated to her. In truth you’ve come to find that nearly everyone you know is extraordinarily beautiful in some way, but she has that sort of grace that makes you feel as though you can go to her for any problem in need of a pragmatic solution.
Her coldness is everything that makes her charming, and sometimes you wish that you could tell her all this without being obstructed by your own heart.
“You are cold,” You start tentatively, finally prying your arms away from the shelf you had clutched onto in the initial shock of the blackout, “But that has never bothered me.”
“I like your coldness. It makes you very graceful and I feel like I can rely on you, which is something really rare for me.”
You think you see her smile slightly.
“And even if I was avoiding you, it would never be because of this.”
“So you are avoiding me?” Kiyoko challenges, putting her glasses back on (she hadn’t been wearing them, you realize now).
“No, I still don’t understand why you even think so?” You cut quite a comical figure, hands on your hips, uniform rumpled by whatever you were doing before; pouting slightly, denial sulky.
“You have been. I had to corner you here just to talk to you,” She insists, “We’ll keep going in circles at this rate. Let’s try this: I’ll give reasons that you could be avoiding me for, and judging by your denial I’ll determine if they’re correct.”
“Wait, what—“ You protest, but Kiyoko is already taking from the stack of chairs in the storage room you’ve been conversing in for the past twenty minutes, and passing you one.
You sit reluctantly, “Do we really need to do this?”
Kiyoko stares at you evenly, and suddenly takes your hands in hers. You flush, taken aback, “You are someone very important to me and I need to understand what happened, so yes.”
It disarms you immediately, your expression melting from its blush the way it does when you see children scampering around or cats nuzzling up to you. She takes advantage of that, immediately beginning to systematically list potential causes of your supposed avoidance.
“You’re busy,” She starts.
“I’m always busy,” You laugh.
“You don’t like this storage room,” She proffers.
You look absolutely flabbergasted, “???”
“Maybe you’re hungry?” She considers, ignoring how contorted your expression is becoming with your sheer incredulity.
“No, that can’t be it…” Kiyoko lapses into silence for a good few minutes. You huff, trying to remember why you were here in the first place.
It was something for the newspaper club, you recall. Actually you’re supposed to be in the meeting right now. How are you even going to explain to them why you were gone for so long, when you were probably only supposed to get some markers or something?
You check the time briefly. You’ve been here for thirty minutes already.
“Sugawara,” Kiyoko declares.
You turn towards the door, “He’s here?”
“No, I meant he’s the reason you’re avoiding me.”
“He is?” You look even more bewildered, the way she assumes a bystander might look observing a heated argument in a foreign language; no clue what’s going on, but it’s starting to get interesting.
“It happened during the match against Shiratorizawa,” She begins, sitting forwards now, “Suga-kun was nervous, remember?”
You try to think back, “I don’t think I was there that day…”
“You were sitting with Michimiya and Hanazawa-san,” She tells you.
“But Hana-chan and I both have the newspaper everyday…” You mutter, probing in your mind for any semblance of such an event, “No… I don’t remember.”
“You were there,” She says with enough conviction that it almost convinces you and your goldfish memory, “Suga-kun was nervous because he was substituting for Kageyama-kun, and I held his hands and he blushed like a tomato.”
“I’ll take your word for it,” You concede, shifting on your stool, “But what does that have to do with this?”
“You’ve been avoiding me because you’re upset about that,” Kiyoko concludes, trying to gauge your response.
“But I don’t even remember that happening,” You protest, “It could be subconscious though, I guess.”
Kiyoko meets your gaze with an intensity that you think you could drown in.
You smile, eyes sucked into the sea of hers, “Thanks… I’m sorry for avoiding you, by the way, even if it was subconscious.”
“No, it’s okay,” Kiyoko repeats, watching you the way you imagine wild animals are initially observed when their suitability for domestication is being determined.
“Uhm, yeah,” You nod a few times, “Wait, I’m a bit lost, what’re we saying is okay?”
She takes your hands once more, holding them up as her fingers slip through yours.
You tense, a faint hue of blood blooming on your cheeks. Your gaze darts away from her on instinct.
“You blush as well when I hold your hands,” She notes gently.
“Uh, yeah, it kinda happens with everyone,” You fumble over your words a little. You’ve always been a little weak for any form of affection, which you suppose contributes to your tendency to reciprocate crushes rather than develop them.
“It’s okay,” Kiyoko says a final time. You nod, meeting her gaze with a wobbly smile.
You sit with your best friend in a dusty storage room for longer than you should, probably, and when she eventually leaves to return to the gym you are left alone for a few minutes before you inevitably depart as well.
You don’t see much of Sugawara these days.
The camera doesn’t need you anymore and he’s in class 3-4 and somehow you keep missing each other on your way home.
It’s reasonable, you’ve come to find, but sometimes you feel a touch reproachful. Sure, he had been the one who decided to pull out, yet you feel that it was one of those situations that could be intentionally avoided; perhaps if you had liked him more.
But can you truly learn to like someone?
Takeda smiles at you and Hana as you enter the gymnasium.
“It’s been a while since you two have watched a match!”
“Hi, Takeda-sensei,” You wave politely as Hana starts to eyeball a few seats, “Yeah, we’ve been busy since…”
“Shiratorizawa,” Hana supplies distractedly.
“Sorry, my memory’s terrible,” You smile at her, “Yeah, we’ve been powering through our winter issue recently, but Ennoshita invited me and the match is after our meeting so it all works out.”
“Well, glad you could make it! The team’s been doing quite well,” Takeda looks like a proud father, you observe.
You and Hana settle yourselves in the second row, and you wave at Ennoshita when he looks upwards.
“You know he likes you, right?” Hana smirks.
You scoff lightly, “Sure, the same way Yachi does. They look up to their elders.”
Hana flicks you playfully, “You’re so dense.”
“Since when did Ennoshita like [Last Name]-san?”
Daichi asks, sidling up next to Kiyoko.
She shrugs, “They’re a charmer. It’s not that unusual.”
“I could see it,” Sugawara proffers, balancing on one leg and tying his shoelaces as the three of them look between the two involved figures conspiratorially.
You and Ennoshita. It could be cute.
Petting cats together at Pompom Café, you smiling at him in the crowd when you’re presenting at assemblies, you cheering at every match even when he’s not playing, tutoring the team together, walking together during festivals, waving at each other in the hallways, walking home together, kissing in a rain of cherry blossoms, high school sweethearts; isn’t it romantic?
Kiyoko frowns, eyes meeting Daichi’s. Even by Sugawara’s standards it’s remarkably mature to move on this honorably (and so soon).
Daichi gives a helpless smile.
Sugawara glances over at them in the midst of their abnormal silence, “Nervous?”
“You could say so,” Daichi responds, gaze dwelling on the crowd for a spell, before the match sweeps away all his lingering doubts about the nature of choice.
When the match concludes the people filter out in clumps and streams towards the lockers and shoe racks and home. You stay rooted for a few moments and wave adieu to your friends before you follow behind the river of departure out into the halls.
“Are you taking the train today?” You ask Hana, knocking into her side a few times as other students brush by you.
“Yeahhhhh,” Hana answers reluctantly, lips pursing,, “I wanna walk with you but I have class so I don’t have enough time.”
“Is it Sakamoto-sensei?” Your lips curve downward slightly, into a commiserating upside-down smile. Sakamoto Akari is Hana’s extracurricular English teacher, who has terrorized your friend for about as long as you’ve known her for with stringent pedagogy and landfills of additional homework.
Hana scowls, “Pray for me.”
“To all the gods I know,” You promise her, hugging her quickly before she is carried away by duty and the tide of movement.
The traffic passes after a few minutes. You trip over your laces as you take the initiative to leave, shaking out your shoe and readjusting your bag.
You crouch down in front of some of the lockers to tie your shoes, nearly losing your balance as you switch feet.
“Sorry, I just need to—“ Sugawara reaches for his locker, and you quickly hobble to the side in an awkward crouched gait.
It’s a welcome encounter. You haven’t walked home with him in quite a while, you realize now.
You tie your laces quickly, straightening up and smoothing out the creases in your clothes.
But you hesitate for a moment.
Can you truly learn to like someone?
Sugawara brushes past you in the span of that moment. Has he always walked that fast, you question dully?
Hey, Suga! Wanna walk together?
His retreating form seems to quake in the sunlight.
Ennoshita’s voice startles you from your daze. You turn towards him with a smile of propensity.
“Do you, uh, maybe wanna walk together?” His habitually lethargic features are a little lighter, with a small smile as if he’s not quite willing to let himself be too optimistic yet.
Your gaze returns to the lockers for a few moments, slowly retracting your hand from its uncertain reach in the air. How long were you holding it out for?
Eh, probably doesn’t matter.
And so you walk conversing with Ennoshita, mouth faintly upturned all the way through the roads, across the sidewalks, past Sugawara’s front door, in response to Ennoshita’s smile of goodbye, all the way home.
