quartzelaii

Zha | 19 ♛ kiyoomi's

[quartzelaii]

MASTERLIST

buy me a coffee here

ONE-SHOTS AND SHORT FICS

SAKUSA KIYOOMI

A Sweet Way to Say I Love You | pt 2 (slight angst, fluff)

I Don't Hate You (angst, fluff)

TSUKISHIMA KEI

Blame It on the Rain | pt 2 (fluff, slight angst)

USHIJIMA WAKATOSHI

Gravity | pt 2 (angst)

SERIES

Perfectly Aligned (Tsukishima x reader, Kageyama x reader) [angst, fluff, friends to lovers]

[deyyydream]

Aching heart finds solace in this space,

Where love's desires remain hidden, true.

So I shall cherish friendship's gentle art,

Though love's longing will forever haunt my heart.

[deyyydream]

I’m no musician, but if I could make the world’s greatest melody, I’d fashion it from the soft lilt in your voice when you told me your name for the first time

[deyyydream]

how unfortunate is it to be in love with a poet whose poems are dedicated to the love of his life

[quartzelaii]

Perfectly Aligned

CHAPTER II

— L/N Y/N, best friend to Kageyama Tobio since age 6. L/N Y/N, the object of all Tsukishima Kei's desires since age 15.

Masterlist

CHAPTER I ➛ CHAPTER II ➛ CHAPTER III

word count: 11k

"How's that poster design coming along? Good, I'm hoping?" Nakano Miyaka, the Arts Club president, hovers over the table like a bespectacled hawk. Her thick glasses almost make her eyes look comically huge with the way she surveys the club room like some sort of cliché cranky supervisor from an office sitcom.

The Arts Club room is small and dingy, probably the smallest and dingiest room in prestigious Shiratorizawa. The four walls perpetually smell of acrylic paint and marker ink from paintings and other artwork that take too long to dry. The desks and chairs are stained with various pigments, courtesy of those hard-headed club members who always forget to put down newspaper before working on their projects.

Upon enrolling in high school, you had trouble finding a new club to pledge yourself to since you've said good bye to volleyball. When you were a kid, one of your favorite way to pass the time aside from playing volleyball is messing around with whatever coloring materials you could find in your pencil case— crayons, watercolors, those small pots of poster color that smell like expired medicine. You'd take your time creating your own masterpiece. More often than not, it would actually turn out good and your Dad would display it by the fridge or frame it to hang in the living room. You enjoyed making art for him, that was until he and your mother divorced. Suddenly, it didn't make sense to continue doing art anymore.

However, on your first day of school at Shiratorizawa, you were handed a flyer for the Arts Club by Miyaka herself who was scouting new recruits at the time. Perhaps it was her overly-enthusiastic persona, or maybe it was because the prospect of making art again made you feel nostalgic— either way, it only took three minutes of convincing before you were signing up.

Miyaka instantly took a liking to you. You're an efficient and productive member of the club, adamant on creating a good first impression on your clubmates. Not long after that, Miyaka has appointed you as the club's Secretary even though you're still a first year. You accepted the honor with much eagerness.

"Just tweaking a few things and then it's ready to be printed." Came the monotonous reply of the club's vice president, currently hunched back over his laptop.

"A few things, huh?" Miyaka gives a pointed look at him then at the laptop's screen. "Seems to me like you still have a lot to tweak considering the page is still freakin' blank."

Aoki Raiden groans and leans back against his chair, pulling the strings on his hoodie so the fabric engulfs his face. 

"Please get off my back, Miyaka-san. I literally can't work with you watching me all the damn time."

Miyaka yanks the hood off his head. "I gave you a week to finish the poster design, Rai. We're already behind schedule as it is."

"You do know the festival isn't until October, right? It's still the middle of August, not to mention it's summer break. Stop being such a worrywart. We have plenty of time." Raiden drawls as his fingers clack on his laptop's keyboard. From where you're sitting, you can see the interface of Twitter on the screen, the poster design's editing page has been minimized and is now completely abandoned.

"I dedicated the whole summer break to work on our booth so we don't have to worry about it once school starts." Miyaka puts her hand on her hips in an attempt to assert authority. "Us third years are gonna be super busy by September and I won't have time to supervise this club by then. You really have to be more considerate, you know."

"Ugh, fine. Give me three days and I'll send you the final design."

"No, are you kidding me? You have until tomorrow to finish that."

Raiden glares at the club president but doesn't complain any more. Reluctantly, he pulls out the editing software again and begins working, but not without complaining all the way.

Miyaka then turns to you who are currently writing on your notepad at the corner of the room, a calculator sitting on your lap. "How about our budget plan, Y/N-chan? Has it been taken care of yet?"

"Yep, I've added both what we've spent so far and the estimation of how much we'll be spending once we build the booth itself." You say, tapping your pen on the notepad. "I made a table for it, too, Miyaka-san, so there won't be any confusion. I'll give the printed copy to you tomorrow."

You rummage through your notepad, checking your various notes from the days before. "I've also checked in with Ryo-san and the other second-years earlier. They're about 50% done with the mural but they ran out of paint so they had to order more. Their expenses are already accounted for, by the way."

"See? That's what a responsible club member looks like. You should really learn a thing or two from your kouhai. Seriously, I should have fired you as vice president and appointed her instead." 

Raiden can only sneer in response, both at you and Miyaka. His typing becomes more aggravated by the second.

"And what about the piece you'll be showcasing at the silent auction?" The bespectacled third-year asks you again.

"Also done but it's still drying. I used oil paint."

"Great! I'm thinking of making that our centerpiece."

"What?" Raiden almost jumps from his seat. "How about my clay sculpture of Bourgeois' Spider? You told me it's gonna be the centerpiece!"

"Well, we can't actually showcase something you haven't even started on yet, can we? Tell you what, show me the finished product and I might actually change my mind."

"I'm getting on it! Just stop pestering me about it! God!"

Miyaka says something snarky in retaliation but you don't hear it. You're busy looking at the clock mounted on the wall to hear about the bickering of your two upperclassmen. The clock reads 2:28 PM. Tobio texted you an hour ago saying that they've defeated their first opponent and were currently waiting for their next match. You're almost buzzing in your seat in worry that you won't be able to catch it.

"Miyaka-san, I was wondering if I could leave early today? I'm supposed to watch the boys volleyball at the Sendai City Gymnasium."

"Eh? But I was told Shiratorizawa isn't playing today. Something about them being too good?"

"Oh, yeah, they won the Inter High so they're already seeded in the Qualifiers." You nod. "I'm actually gonna watch Karasuno."

"Why? Is your boyfriend in there?" Miyaka wiggles her eyebrows. You know it's just a playful teasing but you can't help getting flustered. Your cheeks heat up almost immediately. You hate how you always have this reaction.

"No, just my best friend."

"Yeah, right." Miyaka rolls her eyes with a sly smirk on her lips. "Everybody knows best friend is, like, code for boyfriend"

You reiterate rather defensively that Tobio is just a friend despite Miyaka clearly not believing you. It always entertains you whenever she teases and badgers Raiden but when you're on the receiving end of it, you don't think it's amusing anymore. Only when your face is about the shade of a ripe tomato did Miyaka stop her teasing, but not without giggling about how agitated you look about the whole thing.

Eventually, she grows tired of joking around and agrees to your request.

"No fair! How come she gets to go?" Raiden whines. The way he pouts and crosses his arms like that reminds you of one of those spoiled kids who throw temper tantrums in malls. He's a few months older than you but you forget that with how childish he acts sometimes.

"For one, she's actually been very productive today and she deserves an early out."

"What, just because she's the Darling Setter of Miyagi, she's free to watch volleyball anytime?"

Miyaka cocks her head to the side. "Darling what of Miyagi?"

"Setter. It's just a nickname I got when I used to play volleyball back in middle school." You wave it off as if it's no big deal— though you'd be lying if you said you didn't feel the warm swell of pride in your chest upon hearing that nickname again after so long.

"Which is cringe and tacky, by the way." Raiden rolls his eyes, something you're now accustomed to seeing. You stick your tongue to him which he responds by sticking his tongue back to you. You don't take offense whenever Raiden eggs on you like that because you know he doesn't really mean it— it's just the way he is. To be honest, you have grown quite fond of his salty remarks, and sometimes, you even participate whenever he initiates a lighthearted squabble.

"I knew you used to play volleyball but I didn't know you were famous. Should I ask for your autograph?" Miyaka leans against your desk with an impressed look on her face.

"As much as I want to sign stuff for you, Miyaka-san, I don't think my autograph is worth anything anymore." You hope your response is buoyant enough to hide the fact this is a sore topic for you. You still haven't fully come into terms that you're not a volleyball player anymore.

"You really sure it's okay that I leave early?" You hastily add as an attempt to steer the conversation.

The bespectacled third-year taps her chin in thought as she looks at Raiden who is brooding in the corner. "You know what? I'm actually in the mood to watch some volleyball, too. Can I go with you, Y/N?"

"Of course, you can. I never pegged you as a volleyball fan, though."

"Oh, I'm not." She chuckles as she tidies up her desk. "But my boyfriend is such a nerd for it so I figured I should try to appreciate it more."

"Oh? You have a boyfriend?." Your brows shot up in surprise at this fact.

"You don't have to look so surprised about it, but yes. We made it official two weeks ago. We're keeping it lowkey. Not many people know yet."

"Oh my god," You hear Raiden's trademark exasperated sigh before he closes his laptop with a muddled thud. "A lot of people know you're dating Tendou-san. You can't say it's lowkey if it's all over your Twitter. Also, that whole will-you-be-my-girlfriend shenaniganhe did by the congregating area? Yeah, thatwasn't as cute as you think it was. He littered so much confetti that day, it looked like a unicorn threw up all over the place. Our class had to clean that up while you and your boyfriend made out behind the gym. You thought we didn't see that, huh? Well, we did!"

"Jesus, Raiden, that's not your story to tell!" shrieks Miyaka. The sound of it has you flinching.

Miyaka and Raiden commence yet another wrangle with the former chastising the latter for exposing her love life like that. Whenever something like this happens, you always give the two of them a couple of minutes before both of them cool down and continue on normally as if nothing happened. On your first few weeks with this club, you did think that this constant spat between the president and vice president was a bit too much for your liking— but then you learned soon enough that Miyaka and Raiden have been friends since middle school, and them fighting is a common occurrence, almost always not personal. They are actually really solid friends when both of them are in a good mood.

Your two upperclassmen finally reach an impasse. You haven't been listening to their argument so you don't exactly know how they went from Miyaka getting mad at Raiden for disclosing info about her love life, to Miyaka inviting Raiden to watch volleyball with you. You were busy putting away the papers and stationaries into their respective drawers when you heard Miyaka ask if Raiden wanted to come to the Sendai Gymnasium instead of being a whiny little bitch (the exact phrase she used). The way she worded the invite was a bit unorthodox but you know well enough that she just invited him so Raiden wouldn't feel left out when the two of you leave. She really cares for him in that way.

Their friendship is weird, you think to yourself as Raiden sassily agrees to go. You didn't plan on having company at Tobio's game, but your two senpai are alright companions— there are worse people to be stuck with.

"Maybe after the game, the three of us could go for some yakiniku." Miyaka has locked the club room and is now bouncing on the balls of her feet at her suggestion.

"As long as you're paying, then it's fine by me." Raiden lags behind you and Miyaka as the three of you set off.

"If you had given me the poster design today, maybe I'd have considered treating you— but you didn't, so no yakiniku for you."

"I have money. I can pay for my own yakiniku, thank you very much."

Your phone buzzes in your pocket. Tobio's name pops up on the screen with a text that has you widening your eyes.

"Guys, the game is starting in fifteen minutes! We have to hurry!"

You clutch your bag tight as you begin to sprint towards the gates. Miyaka and Raiden follow suit staggeringly. The former is shouting for you to slow down while the latter grumbled annoyedly to himself about regretting his decision to come.

The bus ride from Shiratorizawa to the Sendai City Gymnasium was fortunately quick. Though the game has probably already started, you still drag Miyaka and Raiden into a convenience store so you can get some snacks to give to Tobio after the game. Miyaka doesn't miss this opportunity to tease you further about being head-over-heels in love with your best friend, which you tried to ignore but couldn't help getting defensive over. 

After paying for your stuff, you practically yank the two of them by their shirts into the stadium.

By the time you've arrived at the stands, the whole place is already buzzing with cheers from the crowd. There aren't many supporters because it's only the preliminaries but the air is still thick with excitement and anticipation.

It takes you three seconds to locate Karasuno's black and orange uniform in the court. The first set of their game against Kakugawa has already started. The scoreboard tells you that Kakugawa is leading at 2-0, though years of playing volleyball has taught you that it's still too early to gauge the trajectory of the game.

"That's Karasuno." You tell your companions, pointing at the court in front of you.

"Uh-huh, and which one's your boyfriend?" Miyaka cranes her neck and squints her near-sighted eyes to see the players better.

"Not a boyfriend." You remind her. "He's. No. 9."

"So tall!" You hear Miyaka emit a yelp. You follow her gaze and realize she's not looking at Tobio— she's looking at the opposing team's No. 9, who is probably the tallest high schooler you've ever laid your eyes on. He could be about two-meters tall, maybe even more. For a moment, you wonder what this would mean for Karasuno— a two-meter giant like that is surely a pain to play against. You'd hate to see Tobio's team lose just because of the overwhelming advantage Kakugawa has.

"I meant the black team's No. 9." You nudge her by the shoulder and point at Tobio in the other side of the court who is currently conversing with his teammates about what to do during the next rally. During his years at Kitagawa Daichi, he used to despise communicating with his team, but now you can see that he has changed so drastically. He looks more confident now, more open. You smile at this realization.

Miyaka nods approvingly upon seeing Tobio, commenting that he's tall and cute. She even goes as far as to say that he suits you perfectly and that you look good together, which elicits a flustered squeak from you.

You remain silent after that. You follow Tobio's form as he expertly maneuvers the ball across the court. You cheer whenever Karasuno scores and gasps in dejection whenever the other team does. You don't think Tobio knows you're here yet— not once has he looked at your direction since you arrived, not that you're expecting him to look for you. You understand completely well that the only thing that has his undistracted attention during the game is the ball itself.

Raiden grumbles about you being too loud, but you beg to differ— you're just getting fired up. Little does he know that your loudest cheer is yet to come.

The first time you see Tobio and Hinata's new quick attack is when you lose your mind, screaming and applauding until both your throat and palms felt sore. It's just so thrilling to see it firsthand, especially as a former setter yourself. Normal people may see it and think it's just a flashy move, but you know how much precision and concentration a setter has to master before executing such a technique. 

Your best friend really is a genius.

"Nice toss, Tobio!" You shout. You doubt he heard you among the collective astonishment of the crowd. You're so fired up that Raiden has to poke you on your ribs to bring you to reality.

After that first quick attack, your focus is now entirely on the game, occasionally turning to Miyaka whenever she has some technical questions about what's going on in the court. Even though you learned that she's dating Tendou Satori, she doesn't seem to be all that informed about volleyball yet. Raiden remains quiet as he leans against the hand rail, observing the game with a bored countenance— though there's this one instance when he groans disappointedly when Karasuno's ace botched his jump serve. You find it amusing that this Shiratorizawa student has started rooting for Karasuno as well.

You're here to support Karasuno as a whole but you still can't help being biased. You can't seem to tear your gaze away from Tobio— so much so that the other members of the team seem like faceless characters in the background. You see them all moving and you're aware of each member's efforts but you're bewitched by Tobio. You can't not look at him.

All that changed, however, when he steals the crowd's attention with a monster kill block.

For the first time that day, your focus settles on Tsukishima. 

Honestly speaking, you kind of forgot he was even in the team. If it weren't for that superb kill block he did, you would have went along the entire game not acknowledging his existence. All of a sudden, though, the attention you're giving Tobio isn't undivided anymore— Tsukishima has half of it now.

"Whoa, he stopped that ball all by himself like what Satori does." You hear Miyaka observe beside you in awe.

Tsukishima doesn't seem unfazed nor thrilled after winning that mid-air battle. He maintains his cool mien even as his team surround him joyously. He goes back to position, adjusts his glasses, and prepares for the next rally as if he didn't just effectively shut down the opponent's spiker all on his own. If you were playing against him, you'd be extremely annoyed at how calm he is.

Still, despite alternating your focus on Tobio and Tsukishima, the former still has your unrelenting support. When he and Hinata ended the first set with yet another freak quick, you didn't know your scream was the loudest. Only when Miyaka laughed at you about it did you mellow down and opted for clapping your hands instead.

The second set is just as gripping as the first, maybe even more. You got to see for the first time Karasuno do a synchronous attack and whenever they do, your eyes unknowingly follow Tsukishima run up to the net and jump with the intent of spiking. The blonde is a great blocker but he's also an effective spiker with his height and ball control. You find yourself cheering and clapping whenever he scores.

Miyaka notices by the second set that your loudest applause are reserved for Tobio and Tsukishima, and sometimes the occasional gasp of astonishment for Hinata's amazing reflexes. The other Karasuno members are amazing players in their own right but you seem more ardently supporting the aforementioned two.

After Tsukishima scores with a block-out, you bring your hands to your mouth and shout a rather impressed "nice kill". By this, Miyaka taps your shoulder to get your attention, and she wastes no time asking forthrightly if you know the blonde. You respond by saying that you have met him before but choose not to elaborate further. Fortunately for you, Miyaka doesn't press any more. You can only imagine how excruciating her teasing would be if she knew the nature of how you met Tsukishima.

After Hinata scores the final point in favor of Karasuno, you and Miyaka find yourselves hugging each other in glee. You have probably rubbed off your enthusiasm on her because she asks if you'd accompany her to watch Shiratorizawa's game at the qualifiers to which you happily agree. Even Raiden who looked disinterested throughout the whole game is joining in on the applause, evidently enjoying the match more than what he expected.

"We still on for barbecue?" 

"I am kinda hungry so I guess I'll go with you." Raiden shrugs. The three of you make your way down the stairs as the crowd starts dispersing.

"I'm coming, too. I'll just congratulate Tobio and give him the snacks I bought. I won't be long." 

"You're hopeless." You see Raiden shake his head mockingly.

"I think it's cute." Miyaka simpers. "You don't understand these things yet because you're single since birth, Rai."

You almost remind her that you are also single since birth and Tobio is not your boyfriend, but you feel like you've reiterated that fact enough that it's getting annoyingly redundant.

"You go on ahead, Y/N. We're gonna go to the rest rooms because I'm gonna freshen up and Rai has to splash cold water to his face to wipe off that hideous scowl. Just meet us there?"

"Okay! Be back in a jiffy!" With this, you're off speed walking to the direction of the corridor where you remember players keep their baggage in. You've been in this stadium a lot when you were in middle school that you still have the whole place memorized.

It takes you two minutes to see Tobio. He's still in his uniform so you locate him right away among the other players that are coming and going. He has his back turned on you, head downcast as he adjusts his bag that is slung over his shoulder.

You tiptoe to where he is. The surrounding chatter of other boys in the vicinity makes your arrival all the more unnoticeable.

"So, that's your new quick attack, huh?"

Tobio wheels around upon hearing your voice. His default scowl is replaced by a smirk once he sees that it's you who has spoken.

"Impressed?" You can see his ego radiating off of him like an aura.

"It's alright." You shrug in faux nonchalance.

"Liar. I heard you screaming louder than everyone earlier."

You blush profusely at that. You knew you were loud (Raiden wasted no opportunity calling you out on it), but you didn't know Tobio heard you all the way down the court. His other teammates must have heard you too and thought you were crazy. The mere thought of it is enough to make you cringe in embarrassment. 

"Okay, fine. It was pretty neat." You finally admit, rolling your eyes. "Congrats on getting through the preliminaries. You guys deserved it."

Tobio grins, the kind that is laced with a dangerous amount of smugness. If you didn't know him at all, you would be offended rather than pleased when he says his thanks. 

"Here, I got you this." You rummage through your bag and give him a paper bag from the convenience store you went into earlier. Inside are a bottle of sports drink and three protein bars— all his favorite brand and flavor, you made sure of that.

Tobio thanks you as he rips open a protein bar with his teeth before biting into it. He demolishes the bar in two enormous bites which prompts you to berate him for eating too quickly lest he wants to choke to death. You threaten to take back the remaining two protein bars if he doesn't slow down. He argues with you with his mouth full, spewing unintelligible protests and half-chewed oats alike as he raises the paper bag out of your reach.

That scene may have been a little too loud because from behind Tobio, a mop of orange hair pops out to investigate the small commotion.

"What's happening here— Kageyama! You went to buy snacks without me?" Hinata seems to be more offended upon seeing Kageyama's stuffed face. 

Tobio shakes his head and juts his thumb at your direction, trying to say without words that it's you who gave the snacks to him. Hinata blinks as he registers your presence for the first time.

"Shiratorizawa?" His gaze lingers for a second on the shirt you're wearing which is purple with the academy's emblem printed on the front— the same shirt Miyaka and Raiden are wearing today. Since it's summer break, you don't have to wear your school uniform while doing club work inside campus but every once in a while, Miyaka still orders the club to wear the purple shirt, probably only for aesthetic reasons.

"Hey, is she your girlfriend?" Hinata tiptoes so he can whisper to Tobio's ear. It's not really a whisper because you can still hear it, and probably other people in the vicinity heard it too. 

"She's just a friend, dumbass." Tobio barks at the small middle blocker.

"Hi. I'm Y/N." You take it upon you to introduce yourself with a bow.

The middle blocker visibly stiffens when you speak, his entire face erupting into a shade of scarlet that has you worrying if he's okay.

"Hinata Shoyo! N-n-nice to meet you, too!" He squeaks.

"What's that I hear? Kageyama has a girlfriend?" Tobio's other teammate with the No. 2 jersey enters the scene from the benches you didn't realize he was sitting on, almost hopping to where you are to take a closer look at you. Either Hinata's voice was too loud or No. 2 just has superhuman hearing.

"She's not my girlfriend, Sugawara-san." Tobio says a-matter-of-factly.

It kind of annoys you how Tobio never shows emotion whenever he denies being your girlfriend— something he does more often than you would have realized. It's always robotic, as if he's reciting from a user manual for a build-your-own furniture. It's annoying to you because you're the exact opposite— when someone insinuates that you and Tobio are a couple, you're always reduced to a blushing mess. It's just so unfair, you think. How come he's not bothered by it at all?

"Y/N, is it? I'm Sugawara, Kageyama's senpai." He grins proudly as he puts his arm over Tobio's shoulder, making the latter stiffen uncomfortably.

"Nice to meet you." You bow to the silver-haired boy.

"Oh? You're from Shiratorizawa." He parrots the observation Hinata had earlier.

"Yes, I'm a first year student there."

"I bet you guys are bummed out that your volleyball team didn't get Kageyama-kun here." Sugawara looks smug in a way that is lighthearted.

"I don't think they're bummed out, Sugawara-san. They're the ones who rejected me." Tobio's reply has you snorting. How did he manage to say that as seriously as he did?

"And they're definitely regretting that now, no?" Sugawara gave Tobio's back a rather loud smack which is supposed to be an encouraging pat.

"Where are the rest of your team?" You ask out of curiosity. It seems like Tobio, Hinata, and Sugawara are the only Karasuno players around. The absence of a certain blonde doesn't go unnoticed by you.

"Rest room, probably, or watching the remaining games.", came Tobio's curt reply.

"I think Asahi and Daichi are getting drinks from the vending machines." Sugawara quips in, looking at his wristwatch. "Now that I think of it, I've been waiting for my soda for twenty minutes now. Where the hell are those guys?"

Suddenly, as if on cue, a boisterous and rather obnoxious laughter rings from the other side of the hallway. Karasuno's No. 5 and No. 4 are loudly joshing around with the rest of Karasuno in tow. 

It's hard not to spot him among his teammates. He stands out with his towering height and striking blonde hair. Tsukishima currently has his headphones on, scrolling on his phone with his hand tucked inside his pants pocket. He has already changed out of his uniform and into a plain white shirt and black trousers.

You're having a hard time registering the fact that the two of you are gonna see each other again— not that you're entirely opposed to it. The boy has definitely earned a considerable percentage of your trust after he had walked you home last night. Maybe you could thank him again for that. You just don't know how you're gonna open up that conversation. Even thinking about how awkward it would be already has you cringing already.

You debate with yourself whether or not you should get away now. You are not necessarily avoiding Tsukishima. It's just that after the events of last night, you feel like meeting him again would be a painful kind of awkward. You'd hoped that the interaction you two had wouldn't have a sequel. You're grateful for what he did for you but you were already so embarrassed about it, and having to interact with him again would just relive that in your memory.

By the time you've made your decision to scram, the incoming group is already a few feet away. Tsukishima peels his gaze away from his phone once the group has stopped in front of Sugawara who is giddy to get his soda he's been waiting on for twenty minutes. You instinctively let Tobio's body cover your own, not wanting to let your presence known just yet. Meeting new people, especially a lot of them, is particularly overwhelming for you.

At first, Tsukishima doesn't see you as he takes his headphones off and let it hang on his neck. A tall freckled boy is currently talking to him, stealing his attention. You don't realize you've been staring at Tsukishima. It is only when he felt the ghost prickle of a pair of eyes trained on him did he look at your direction. When he meets your gaze, it is you who is the more shocked. Hazel eyes fix on yours. If he is the least bit surprised to see you, he doesn't let it show. His expression doesn't change as his gaze lingers on you for a second before turning back to the boy whom we was conversing with.

Immediately, you cower even further behind Tobio.

"I should probably go now." You say, careful not to let your presence more known than it already is. 

Your voice is soft, barely above whisper. By the looks of things, it is only Kageyama, Sugawara, Hinata, and Tsukishima who know that you're there. You're hiding behind Tobio (Sugawara and Hinata are stood beside him so their figures unknowingly conceal you too). The rest of the boys are oblivious of you— you're thankful for the loud No. 4 and No. 5 duo for diverting the team's attention with a most likely exaggerated story about a heated altercation with a rival team they bumped into at the rest rooms.

"Where are you going?" It's Kageyama's voice that catches the attention of the group. You could have slipped quietly without anyone noticing if he hasn't spoken. Curse him and his megaphone voice.

You're suddenly aware of a dozen or so pairs of eyes trained on you.

"Who's this?" It is No. 4, the libero, who pops the question. He's elbowing No. 5 whose eyes look like they've seen stars once they lay on you. 

"Uh, sorry... I'm L/N Y/N. It's nice to meet you all." You really should have gotten away while you had the chance

"L/N? As in L/N Hotaru's daughter?" No. 5 has his eyes widened, his finger pointing at you. "You're the Darling Setter! I knew you looked familiar!"

"Right! L/N Y/N, I remember now. You were on Volleyball Monthly!", points out Sugawara. "Your hair was so much shorter back then. I almost didn't recognize you."

A part of you wished that they didn't. You're not at all accustomed anymore to people recognizing you as the Darling Setter. All you can do is smile awkwardly as the boys seem to renew their interest on you. You can see Tobio silently laughing, amused at how you looked uncomfortable at the spotlight.

Hinata is probably the most impressed. He's practically jumping up and down in front of you, his eyes twinkling as if he is star struck. 

"You're the L/N Y/N? My sister saw you on the television last year. She thought you were very pretty and wanted to be like you!"

"R-really?" You stammer out, both flattered and disbelieving.

"Yeah! Her name's Natsu. She's only 9 years old but she's already interested in volleyball, and she wants to—"

"Oi, can't you see she's uncomfortable?" Tobio butts in, glaring at Hinata's enthusiasm.

You're not really uncomfortable, per se. You're just not used to the attention anymore. Back when you were in middle school, you absolutely adored being in the center of it, not so much now that you're in high school.

"It's fine." You assure your best friend.

"I appreciate that, Hinata. Please tell Natsu I say hi." Hinata beams at your response.

No. 4 and No. 5 are nudging each other on the ribs, wordlessly working out which of them gets to talk to you first. You watch, amused, how they try to muster the courage to step forward and talk to you. They must really have no experience talking with girls, judging by how they're struggling right now.

"Don't you two try anything funny. She's Kageyama's girlfriend." Sugawara wags a finger at the two of them and they exclaim both their surprise and what could only be disappointment. 

"She's not." Tobio denies as nonchalantly as ever before tipping his head back to drink from the sports drink you gave him.

"Kageyama, you lucky bastard!" 

"Way to go, Kageyama!"

The two have apparently ignored his denial.

Your eyes are casted down to your shoes so you don't see the way Tsukishima raises his eyebrow a millimeter upon hearing what Sugawara said. Not only that— he narrows his eyes ever so slightly when he sees your dejected reaction at Tobio's response.

"Wait, so are you or are you not his girlfriend?" It's No. 4 who speaks this time.

Before you could open your mouth to speak, two fists smack on top of No. 4 and No.5's heads. The fists belong to whom you recognize is the team's captain.

"Nishinoya, Tanaka," He growls warningly. "Stop harassing her or else I'll have the two of you run laps on our next training."

Nishinoya and Tanaka mutter their apology with a bow and you wave them off, saying that it's really no problem. For some reason, they also turn to apologize to Tobio who just stared at them in utter confusion, biting on his protein bar without saying a word.

Some of Tobio's teammates start conversing with you, too— nothing much, just questions that are more for the sake of either being polite or genuine curiosity than anything else. 

"H-hello. You've mastered the jump floater serve, right? What's the technique so it doesn't end up doing a topspin, if you don't mind me asking?" The tall boy Tsukishima was talking to earlier approaches you. You'll soon learn that his name is Yamaguchi. He still seems shy. You can very clearly see his cheeks dusted in pink and he stutters out the majority of words in his sentences, but he makes an effort to talk to you nevertheless. Ironically enough, seeing that he's more nervous than you melts away your own uneasiness.

By this time, all your nerves and apprehension about meeting Tobio's team has dissipated. It's easy to talk with them because they're nice people, treating you with respect and friendliness. You're thankful for them for not asking too many questions about your ex-Olympian father— you're proud of him but talking about him is taxing and quite repetitive sometimes.

Yamaguchi and Hinata are specifically the two who kept the conversation going. You've built a rapport with them maybe because they're first-years such as yourself. Yamaguchi is now asking you if the entrance exam to Shiratorizawa was really as hard as everyone said it was. He visibly blanched when you said that the exam gave you a  headache that lasted for days. Hinata, however, is more curious about your volleyball career. When you told the orange-haired middle blocker that you're not part of any volleyball club right now, his eyes widened to the size of saucers. He voices out that it's such a waste of talent. He has a way with wording out his compliments that you feel yourself blushing pathetically. Tobio just stands beside you through it all, munching on his protein bar as he listens to you talk with his teammates and occasionally adding to the conversation if his input is needed.

It doesn't take long before you're laughing quite freely with them.

Through the whole ordeal, Tsukishima has backed away from the group unnoticed. He is currently leaning against the wall a few feet away, his headphones fit snuggly on his ears but the music is turned off. Scrolling aimlessly on his phone has lost its appeal by now and he wishes he'd brought his PSP with him to pass time.

Every couple of minutes or so, you steal a glance at Tsukishima. He's the only one from the team who hasn't said a word to you, not even a polite greeting. You were a bit anxious at the prospect of talking to him again, but now that he clearly has no plan to even spare you a minute of his time, you feel quite annoyed. The two of you are not friends, probably not even acquaintances— but still, after the events of last night, you expect him to at least not treat you like a stranger.

It's not like you want him to approach you and be all chummy. You just want him to acknowledge you, maybe with a nod of recognition or even a small wave of his hand wouldn't hurt. Heck, you even cheered for him at their game earlier. You weren't being subtle with it, too. You were screaming until your throat was raw— he definitely heard you supporting him. The only explanation is he just doesn't care and he just doesn't know how to behave like a decent human being.

Maybe you were wrong when you thought he wasn't half as bad last night. Maybe you were too lenient on your judgment when he is utterly and very clearly just a jerk. 

You look away from him with a huff. If he doesn't want to be your friend (or at the very least, an acquaintance), then it's most definitely his loss and not yours.

From the corner of your eyes, you see two purple figures standing at the hall's entrance. The Shiratorizawa shirt that Miyaka and Raiden are wearing are hard to miss. Miyaka waves at you once you make eye contact with her. They must have been waiting by the rest rooms for quite some time for them to come looking for you. This is as good a cue as any to say leave.

"I really have to go, Tobio. Some club officers and I made plans to get barbecue."

"You won't come over for dinner?" He asks, his head tilted to the side. You're vaguely aware of Hinata and Sugawara suddenly whispering among themselves upon hearing that.

"No, sorry. They're already waiting for me. It'd be rude if I cancelled now." You nod at the direction of your two senpai standing a few feet away, emphasizing your point.

"Mom is expecting you for tonight. " He shrugs but you don't miss the small pout he makes. "But whatever, it's your call."

"I suppose I could swing by later if we finish at the yakiniku place early?" It came off more like a bargain than a suggestion.

"But you'd be full by then."

"I'll save room, don't worry." You cheekily respond with a light chuckle. "I guess I'll see you later?"

Tobio ends the conversation with a nod and a short "okay".

With this, you turn to the rest of the group. They're not looking at either you or Tobio but you know that they heard your conversation. They must feel like they've being privy to something intimate, which you can assure them that they're not. Hinata is biting his bottom lip, clearly stopping himself from commenting anything. Sugawara is whistling as his eyes flit to the toe cap of his shoes. Nishinoya and Tanaka are having a hard time closing their mouths as they continue to gape at Tobio. All of them a clearly still under the impression that you are his girlfriend.

"It's nice meeting you all." You say to the group and you're met with a chorus of pleasantries.

"Bye, Hinata, Yamaguchi!" You wave specifically at the two freshmen whom you've bonded with the most.

You bow at the rest before turning on your heels and walking away. You don't see the way Tsukishima's eyes follow your retreating figure.

You're at least twenty feet away when Sugawara's hand finds the crown of Tobio's head, ruffling his hair roughly. "You dog! She's definitely your girlfriend. You're inviting her over for dinner!"

"I really envy you right now, Kageyama!"

"I wish I had a girlfriend too."

"Teach us your ways!"

The pandemonium that ensues after you left could be something out of a comedy skit. They're simply refusing to believe Tobio when he says over and over, almost pleadingly, that you are just his best friend. Tobio isn't the type to raise his voice at his upperclassmen so Hinata took the brunt of his fury when the setter reached his breaking point. 

You would have found it hilarious how your best friend chased Hinata around, kicking the poor boy on the shin when he finally caught up to him. 

You would also definitely appreciate the way Tobio blushed uncontrollably as his teammates continued to jeer and tease, if only you had seen it.

You apologize profusely to your two upperclassmen when you finally reach them, saying that you lost track of time talking to the Karasuno players. However, they don't seem at all angry about your tardiness. In contrary, they have a glint in their eyes that tell you they're amused about something.

"For a non-girlfriend, you sure looked a lot like a girlfriend back there." Raiden says with a roll of his eyes . You didn't realize they've been watching the whole ordeal all this time.

"Huh?"

"He's right, Y/N. I mean, think about it— not only did you watch his game, you also bought him after-game snacks. Not to mention he introduced you to his teammates." Miyaka links her arm to yours as the three of you start making your way to the stadium's exit. "It's like this unspoken rule among athletes' girlfriends, and you should trust me on this because I'm an athlete's girlfriend."

You manage to let out an incredulous scoff. "You guys are being ridiculous. It's no big deal, really. I've been doing it for him since we were in middle school."

"Woof, that's rough." Raiden whistles. "So, you've been doing girlfriend duties since middle school but he hasn't asked you to be his girlfriend yet?"

"It's not that simple." You groan, both exasperatedly and bashfully.

"How is that not simple? You like him and by the looks of things, he likes you, too." It's Miyaka who speaks this time.

"He likes me?" It's really cringe and embarrassing that that's what you took away from her statement.

"It's really obvious," She says without hesitation. "I have a good eye on this kind of stuff. Trust me, he likes you."

You stay silent for a few seconds to ponder on her words. You'd be lying if you said that you haven't been fantasizing about Tobio liking you back. The idea just seems farfetched, especially since it's Tobio of all people. He has the emotional capacity of a grain of rice.

You try your best to think nothing of it. You will just end up getting hurt if you believe what they're saying. You don't want to feed yourself blind hope, especially if there's nothing to back up their claim.

"He doesn't." You mumble, feeling your heart sink. It is with a painful acceptance do you realize that you believe that sentence wholeheartedly.

Miyaka and Raiden look at each other, communicating silently. They're one of the closest friends you have in school. All those times you spent in the club room slaving away projects upon projects really strengthened your bond with them. They are probably the next people who know you best after Tobio.

"Why do you seem so sure? You haven't even confessed yet." Raiden says with a scoff.

"I'm not gonna confess because I know he'll just reject me. It'll ruin everything and I don't want that to happen. It's too risky."  You're now past denying that you do like Tobio. It's actually quite refreshing for you to talk about your feelings for him this openly. You feel as if a weight has been lifted off your shoulders after years of hopeless pining.

"Wow. You really are stupid."

"Rai-san!" You cry out, clearly offended.

"You have a mirror, don't you? You're fully aware that you're pretty and if you disagree with that, either you have brain damage or just really dense. You're smart, you're hella good at volleyball— you're also, like, his number one fan. Tell me, what more could he want?" Raiden taps his finger on your temple. "Think, Y/N. If he had any ideal girl, it would be you."

You're always so surprised whenever Raiden shows his supportive side, albeit the way he delivered it could have been nicer and less abrasive. He always seems so negative and snarky, but when he does say something nice, you know it's genuine. Miyaka can only nod her head vigorously in agreement.

"Aw, Rai-san!" You throw yourself at him and engulf him in an embrace. You hear him grumble in protest but he allows you to hug him nevertheless.

"Rai has never said anything nice like that to me. I'm actually really jealous" Miyaka says with a soft pout. "What he said is true, though. You're the perfect girl for Tobio and I'm sure he already knows that. You should confess and see how it goes."

"I-I don't know." You bite your bottom lip. "I need time to think about it."

"You'll have plenty of time to think about it while we eat barbecue. I'm absolutely starving. How about you two slowpokes hurry up before all the good tables are taken, yeah?" With this, Miyaka tugs you by the arm as she speed walks. You don't protest because the grumbling in your stomach tells you that you're getting quite hungry too.

Your trio reach the exit of the stadium and you're fortunate enough to catch a bus immediately. The topic of Tobio is momentarily set aside as Raiden shows you a video he took of Miyaka napping in the club room, a steady stream of drool coming out of her open mouth. Raiden even threatens that he'd send the video to Tendou, which obviously rattles Miyaka. Her face turns into a bright shade of red, demanding Raiden to delete that video or she would make sure he regretted it.

You and Raiden laugh hysterically, so much so that the other passengers on the bus give you the side-eye. Miyaka looks like she's gonna exolode with embarrassment as she tries to pry Raiden's phone from his hands. 

It's moments like these that allow you to breathe without anxiety. You don't even realize that today, you have completely forgotten about the fact that you're gonna move to Tokyo soon. You're glad that you have Miyaka and Raiden to distract you from that.

Dinner with your two upperclassmen was great. You talked about various stuff, though you notice that they didn't bring up Tobio anymore— they must have sensed that you weren't comfortable talking about him so they let it be. However, Miyaka did say that if ever you need help confessing to your best friend, she'd be glad to help. You thank her for her offer but you're not quite sure if you're even gonna go about doing it. You still have to be sure about what to do next before making a move.

You didn't fill up on yakiniku despite your stomach protesting because you promised Tobio you'd still come over for dinner at his house. Miyaka and Raiden didn't hold back, though. They ordered so many meat and side dishes that you had to try your best not to look so envious.

Once the three of you are done, you take a bus home. You plan on showering first before going to Tobio's house so you don't look so haggard, at least.

You see your Mom's car in the driveway once you arrive home. She's home early, you think to yourself. She usually goes home at 8 PM or later.

Your Mom pops out of the kitchen once she hears you're back home. She's bobbing a tea bag up and down her steaming cup while her face is covered in a seaweed mask that's part of her weekly skincare routine.

"How's that yakiniku place? Is it any good?"

You texted her a few hours ago that you'd get yakiniku with your club mates so she doesn't have to wait for you at dinner.

"A bit pricey but worth it, I guess. We should go there sometime, Mom."

"How about lunch on Sunday? We could go shopping at the mall after. What do you think?"

"Sounds good." You smile. There's a voice in your head that says she's only trying to compensate for the whole moving to Tokyo thing. Quite frankly, you're still mad at her about that, but you also know she only has your best interest at heart. You try to understand her position.

"I'm gonna go shower and go to Tobio's. He invited me for dinner." You say as you make your way to your room.

"Do you really have to go? You've already eaten and you were just at his house last night." She follows you until she's leaning against your room's doorframe.

"I could still eat. Besides, I think it's a special dinner since Tobio's team got through the preliminaries. He told me his mother was expecting me. I couldn't say no, could I?"

Your mother takes a sip from her tea. "Well, as long as he invited you and you're not imposing."

You don't respond after that. You're rummaging through your closet in search for specific articles of clothing you want to be wearing tonight.

"Hey, Mom? Have you seen my beige shirt? The long-sleeved one? Oh, no, wait— I forgot I haven't washed it yet."

You hear your Mom click her tongue. "It's in the laundry room. I added everything in your hamper to the load when I washed my coats last night. If I didn't, you wouldn't have anything to wear for this week. Sometimes I wonder what you would do without me."

The relief that courses through you is overwhelming. "Thanks, Mom! You're the best!"

You practically sprint to the laundry room to retrieve your shirt. Your Mom yells after you to take all your folded laundry to your room so you wouldn't have to return for them later. You come back to your room with a basket of your now clean laundry, the smell of vanilla fabric conditioner wafting through the room.

"Who's Kei?"

You cock your head to the side in confusion. "Kei?"

"There was a handkerchief in your hamper with the name Kei embroidered on it. It should be in there somewhere." She motions to the laundry basket. "Why do you have it in the first place?"

It takes you a couple of seconds to find said handkerchief. When Tsukishima gave it to you last night, you didn't know it was embroidered with his name— you can only assume that Kei is his first name from context. You're just realizing that you didn't ask him for his first name. You just knew him as Tsukishima.

"So, who's Kei and why do you have his handkerchief?" Your Mom repeats the question.

You tell her with a shrug that it's the boy who walked you home last night. You also tell her what happened in the café but deliberately omit the part about him giving you the handkerchief because you'd been crying, replacing it with a lie that you'd spilled water on yourself instead. 

You examine the handkerchief for the first time since it was given to you. You didn't get to take a good look at it last night. The word Kei is embroidered in forest green thread at the bottom right corner. You wonder how you managed to miss it.

"I thought it was Tobio-kun who walked you home?"

"No, Mom. It was this other boy. He's Tobio's teammate, actually."

"I see. It was very dark. I just thought Tobio-kun grew a lot taller since I last saw him." She muses. "So, is this Kei boy a suitor?"

You bite back an incredulous laugh. "No way."

"A special friend, then?" You don't even know what she means by that.

"Definitely not."

You see your mother shrug from where she is leaning on your doorway. "Still, seems like he likes you enough to let you keep something that expensive."

You frown, confused. "Huh?"

"That's CLASSICS the Small Luxury." She points at the square fabric you're holding. "That's, what, ¥2000 a piece, give or take? The embroidery definitely cost extra, too. He probably paid around ¥3000 for that one."

"Who would pay ¥3000 for one friggin' handkerchief?" You almost shriek in disbelief.

"It's really good quality, you know. It's probably 100% cotton, too. Back when I was in med school, these handkerchiefs were all the hype. All my girl friends had one. I didn't. I was broke and could only afford those 6-in-1 packs you could buy at convenience stores." She laughed at the memory, her hand covering her mouth ever so daintily.

Tsukishima's voice rings inside your head.

"A single slice of cake is nowhere near the value of that handkerchief." 

You just thought he was either lying or exaggerating.

Your phone buzzes on your bedside table, taking your attention away from the conversation. You catch a glimpse of Tobio's consecutive texts on the notification bar.

tobio: you still coming?

tobio: mom made tiramisu for dessert

You fold the handkerchief neatly and set it inside your drawer. The brand name CLASSICS The Small Luxury is printed right below the embroidery, another detail you've missed. You're definitely gonna be returning it to Tsukishima. As much as you appreciate him letting you keep it, you can't, not when it's worth ¥3000 with his own name embroidered on it.

How you're gonna return it to him, you still have no idea. You'll have to think of ways to get in contact with him again. You could very easily ask Tobio to give Tsukishima the handkerchief the  next time they see each other, but it would be quite rude and offending to the owner if you didn't return the handkerchief personally. It's the least you can do after he let you use it when you needed it last night.

You make a mental note to ask Tobio for Tsukishima's number or home address. You'll worry about it later. For now, you really must hurry up if you still want to catch dinner at the Kageyama's.

You shower and get changed. Before leaving the house, you inform your mother that you'd be home before 9 PM— you're feeling quite guilty for storming out last night and getting home late so you give yourself an early curfew tonight as compensation. Your mother is still a little worried that you're taking advantage of the Kageyamas' hospitality, but you reassure her that it's fine and Tobio's family won't call child services on her.

You leave the house after Tobio sends you another text saying that his mother asks what time you'll be arriving.  There's extra spring in your steps as you take the familiar route to his house— probably because you're excited to eat Mrs. Kageyama's cooking, or perhaps it's because you're giddy at the prospect of having dinner again with the boy you have a hopeless crush on. It's probably one or the other. It also could be both.

Tobio's Mom is preparing a feast, judging by the mingling scents of various dishes wafting throughout the whole house. She went overboard this time that you kind of regret having yakiniku earlier.

You offer to help Tobio's Mom and Miwa in the kitchen but the two women just wave you off, telling you to go relax and have some refreshments that they've prepared in the living room. Tobio's Dad is sitting on the couch, watching a baseball game on the television. He's so captivated by the game, shouting at the screen whenever his favorite team scores, that you feel like it would be rude if you sat down beside him and ruined the moment.

Tobio opens and closes his mouth, thinking of how to tell his father to scoot on the sofa. Even Tobio himself is scared of his father, it seems, because he remains quiet and accepts defeat instead.

"Let's go to my room?" He says beside you once he sees that his father won't be making room in the sofa for the two of you any time soon.

You follow him up the stairs and into his room which you've been in countless times before. Unlike those other times, however, you're now feeling a bit queasy as you enter. You hate the fact that going into your best friend's room is putting non-innocent thoughts inside your head now, something that you didn't worry about a year ago.

 Tobio plops down on his swivel chair as you make your way to his bed. The door is left wide open— you don't have to be told to do that, it's just courtesy and muscle memory from all the times Tobio has invited you to his room.

You unceremoniously collapse onto his bed, taking last month's issue of Shonen Jump from his bedside table with you. You don't particularly enjoy the way your stomach does a back flip when you smell a faint trace of his cologne on his bed sheets. You try to ignore it by flipping through the Jump's pages, trying to find any new manga to distract yourself with.

Tobio must have seen you so engrossed in reading that he felt like reading too. You hear the rustling of paper as he takes out an issue of Volleyball Monthly from his bookshelf. You immediately recognize it as the issue where you were featured in.

A sly smirk appears on your lips. "Turn to page 17. You'll see a very pretty girl there."

Kageyama already knows what you're talking about before he even turned to said page. "What girl? I only see a hobgoblin holding a volleyball."

"Jerk." You chuck a throw pillow at him which would have landed square on his face had he not ducked to avoid it.

There was a couple of minutes of silence disturbed only by you turning pages and Tobio playing on his Nintendo DSi— he quickly grew bored of looking at Volleyball Monthly and fished the console from his drawer. His attention span is comparable to that of a chicken, you think to yourself as you watch him play with the handheld device. Compared to when he was reading the magazine, Tobio looks a lot more entertained playing Bomberman Blitz.

"We've improved, haven't we? My team, I mean." Tobio suddenly says while his brows are furrowed in concentration at his game.

You look up from what you're reading. "Yep, it's scary how much you guys evolved. I should probably warn our volleyball team about you. I'm sure Ushijima-san would want to know what kind of techniques you have under your sleeves."

He gives you a glare that could have killed a weak-willed soul.

"I'm kidding! They'll just have to find out how much stronger you've gotten when they face you in the finals."

Tobio snorts. "We'll beat them for sure."

"You always say that but what's your plan, though? Do you have any tactics to beat Ushijima-san?" You inquire curiously.

Tobio presses pause on his Nintendo, cradling his chin in thought. "Well, none of us can beat him one-on-one so we'll have to work on our three-man block more, but aside from that, our floor defense is pretty solid. Nishinoya-san and Daichi-san could definitely receive some of his spikes, so I'm not too worried about that."

"You really don't think anyone on your team could block him?" You ask and he just shakes his head. "Don't you have faith in your middle blockers?"

He stares at you as if you've just asked a very stupid question. "Have you seen our middle blockers?"

"Hinata does good when it comes to offense but he's absolutely worthless when it comes to blocking and receiving. He's fast and jumps high but that's about all he can do.

And then there's Tsukishima"

Your attention is snatched when you hear the blonde's name. "What about him?"

"He just... doesn't try." Tobio simply says. "He has the height for it, he has good game sense too, but he gives up way too easily. If only he's pushing himself a little harder, we could strengthen our defense a lot more."

"I see."

"Don't even get me started on his rotten attitude. He's a sarcastic dick, thinking he's smarter than everyone. You would hate him too if you'd met him."

You almost tell Tobio that you have indeed met him, but judging by the way his face contorts in disgust when talking about the blonde, it won't be such a good idea.

You've seen Tsukishima play today. You're not saying that Tobio is wrong, but you definitely do not see the blonde 'giving up way too easily'. On their match against Kakugawa, Tsukishima looked focused and motivated— granted, he didn't look as enthusiastic as Tobio or Hinata, but he still seemed like he was enjoying the game. Though, you can't disagree about what Tobio said about Tsukishima being a sarcastic dick— that one was definitely correct.

But maybe, Tobio is not entirely wrong. He obviously knows Tsukishima better than you. The only instance you ever see him play is during official matches. You have no idea how he is like during practice.

"Hey, Tobio? When's your training gonna start again?"

"We have one on Saturday. Why do you ask?"

"Can I come and watch?" You try to make your shrug look as casually as it can when in reality, you're starting to get nervous about your bold request.

Tobio thinks about it for a second before nodding. "Sure."

You have no idea what your end game is when you asked to come to their practice. 

You do know one thing, though— you're gonna see Tsukishima again and it's gonna be the best opportunity to give him back his handkerchief.

The Nintendo DSi narrowly misses your thigh as Tobio chucks it on the bed. A second later, the impact of his body weight hitting the mattress causes you to almost fall off. He's spread-eagled on the bed with his face turned up to the ceiling. He's so close that you can feel the warmth of his body on your own skin.

"Wanna have a go?" He jabs the Nintendo blindingly at you, his eyes still fixated upward. 

You take the console out of his hand and starts a new game. It's harder than you remember it being, or maybe you just haven't played it in a while. This old Nintendo model's buttons are difficult to press, you tell yourself as the character dies yet again— not your fault but the console's. You restart only to die at the same spot.

"You're horrible at this." Tobio snickers. You've been glued to the game for the past minute that you didn't notice that he has wiggled closer to you so he could watch you play. 

You turn your head to look at him with the most hateful glare you could muster. You hope that he doesn't detect the look of yearning in your eyes because God knows there is. His dark blue eyes are just so beautiful, you could drown in them. The shape of his nose, the curve of his lips, the soft dusting of color on his cheeks— they all make him unbelievably gorgeous that it's a miracle you haven't melted on the spot considering his face is only a few inches away from yours.

 You feel like you've mastered by now the look of indifference whenever he's around, and yet you wonder if Tobio would have guessed by now that you have a crush on him if only he has the perception of an average teenage boy. Surely, you're not hiding it that well. Miyaka and Raiden did say it was very obvious.

"You died again." He points out as the DSi emits the telltale sound that signals the gruesome death of the pixelated bomber. 

You all but shove the device to his chest in frustration. You feel the vibration of his laughter as your hand makes contact with him as you feel your heart quicken instantaneously.

"Why do you want to watch our practice?" He asks after he has turned off the Nintendo and tossed it haphazardly somewhere on the mattress.

You shrug. "I wanna see you train."

Not exactly a lie but not the full truth either. The real reason you're going to their training is to give Tsukishima the handkerchief. Watching your crush practice volleyball is just a bonus.

"Why? Do you miss me that much when I'm not around?"

It's meant to be a joke. You're not meant to take it seriously. He's smirking in a way that tells you he's just having a laugh... but you're only human, and humans can only hide their feelings so much before some of it leaks.

"Yes, I do."

Tobio laughs.

You frown at this reaction.

"Stop it. That's gross." His shoulders shake as he tries to suppress his laughter. You blink back stupidly, both in surprise and mind-numbing hurt. No way he just said 'that's gross'.

He turns on the Nintendo again, unaware of your ragged breathing and how clammy your hands have gotten. You force out a laugh that you hope mirrors his.

For the rest of the night, none of your smiles or laughter seem to be genuine. Not even during dinner which is exquisite with all of Tobio's favorite food crammed in the too-small dining table. Not even as you say your good night to them by the front door as you prepare for your leave. Not even as you refuse Tobio when he offered to walk you home, right after his mother has chastised him into being a 'proper gentleman'.

This must be what a heartbreak feels like, you muse as you lay awake on your bed.

It hurts, and what's worse — it's because of Tobio.

I haven't updated in so long and felt guilty that's why this chapter has 11k words omg sorry not sorry

tag list: @sktvienna @thechaosoflonging @kenryug

[quartzelaii]

Hey there! I was wondering if you thought about making a taglist? I don’t usually remember usernames so It would come in pretty handy sometimes!!

done!! <33

[quartzelaii]

Perfectly Aligned (Masterlist)

— They say that if you really are destined for someone, the universe will make a way, no matter what it takes, for the two of you to unite. Unfortunately, in your case, you're not quite sure if that someone is Kageyama Tobio or Tsukishima Kei. General Masterlist

Prologue

Chapter I

Chapter II

Chapter III

Chapter IV

Chapter V

Chapter VI

Chapter VII

Chapter VIII

Chapter IX

Chapter X

(more chapters soon)

[quartzelaii]

Perfectly Aligned

CHAPTER I

— L/N Y/N, best friend to Kageyama Tobio since age 6. L/N Y/N, the object of all Tsukishima Kei's desires since age 15.

Masterlist

PROLOGUE ➛ CHAPTER I ➛ CHAPTER II

word count: 7.8k

ONE YEAR LATER

"And then after that, Coach told me to practice tossing balls that stop at the hitter's highest contact point. Hinata and I tried it out earlier. We got the hang of it pretty quick."

"That sounds complicated. How exactly do you that?'

"You just go... pow, and the ball should go whoosh."

You bite your tongue to stop yourself from giggling. Even at 15 years of age, Tobio still uses his ridiculous onomatopoeia to explain stuff. You still find it cute and endearing, no matter how stupid he may sound whenever he does it.

"No, dumbass, I mean show me how you do it. I wanna see this new toss of yours."

Tobio looks at you with his eyes squinted suspiciously. Without a shot at subtlety, he glares at the purple and white school uniform you're donning as if the garments offend him greatly.

"How do I know you're not gonna sell it out to Shiratorizawa's setters?"

You scoff back a laugh. "If I were gonna sell out your new fancy move to anyone, it'd be to legit V.League teams. Maybe they'd pay me for it too, then I'd be hella rich."

"All the more reason not to show you that toss, then."

The two of you are hanging out at the Kageyamas' backyard. Your wristwatch tells you that it's already almost 7 PM. Tobio has just returned from training and you have just left school from your own club duties when the two of you see each other on your shared street.

"Can I stay over at yours for a while? Mom texted that she's gonna be home late." You said, trying hard not let the disappointment in your voice become evident. "Again."

"Yeah, sure." He shrugged. "I'll tell Mom to cook extra for dinner since you eat like a pig."

"Hey, that's not a nice thing to say to a lady!"

With that, the two of you walked together to his house. That's how you found yourself sitting on their veranda instead of inside the comforts of your own home at 7 in the evening. Tobio is doing solo passing drills, concentrating on not making the ball hit the ground. You, on the other hand, is sitting cross-legged on a wooden divan with your school bag sprawled beside you, watching him a few feet away.

"Oh, come on. Don't be like that, Tobio." You pout. "I may not be a player anymore but I still get excited over these things."

He stops passing the ball to himself and looks at you.

"You'll see it tomorrow." There's a glint in his eyes that you can't quite place, his lips turned ever so slightly upward.

"Kill joy." You mutter but don't press any more.

There's a few seconds of silence broken only by the thumping sound of volleyball as Kageyama continues his solo drill. You watch him, fascinated. His form, his technique, his level of concentration— they are all commendable. It's one of these moments that make your own fingertips itch to play again.

"Tobio?"

"Hm?"

"Are you nervous for tomorrow?"

He doesn't even stop to think for an answer. "Why would I be?"

Tomorrow is the start of the Spring High Preliminaries. Not being able to play on high school really did put a bitter taste in your mouth. You miss volleyball. You miss the thrill of being in the court. You miss the feel of the ball on your fingertips. There's a small albeit persistent voice inside your head that tells you to go back to being a player. You smother that voice down whenever it rears its ugly head, but there are times that the voice gets the better of you. Whenever you start missing volleyball, like you do today, there's a dull ache in your chest that is comparable to the feeling you get when you lost your favorite toy as a kid— you know it's time to let go but at the same time, you can't and don't want to.

You're envious of Tobio. He's fulfilling his dream of being a professional volleyball player one match at a time without nothing but time hindering his inevitable success. Whereas, you are stuck on a path that you're not even sure is the best one for you.

Shaking your head and ignoring these negative thoughts, you smile at your best friend instead. "Right. Who am I asking?"

"There's no need for me to be nervous." Your hear him continue and you see him look at the ball in his hands, his eyes having that same intense look you saw earlier. "We've been training hard since Inter High. We've evolved a lot. I'm confident in my team, and I know we'll go to Nationals."

Tobio is not looking at you but you smile nonetheless.

"And we'll definitely beat Ushijima-san!"

You almost jump from your seat when he suddenly barks out, his finger pointed at you. Since you started high school at Shiratorizawa, Tobio does not pass up on the opportunity to mention it any chance he gets. It's as if you're now his rival, which is ridiculous but at the same time entertaining.

You let out a laugh— not a mocking one but a genuine laugh of amusement. You have no doubts that he really meant it when he said he'd beat Ushijima Wakatoshi, or at least he'd die trying. You make a mental note to watch the Karasuno vs. Shiratorizawa match no matter what it takes because you have no doubts that it's definitely gonna happen.

"Tobio! Y/N! Dinner's ready!"

Tobio's sister, Miwa, waves at both of you from the door.

"We're coming!" The two of you say in unison.

You follow your ravenette best friend inside the house. His family is already seated at the dinner table by the time you arrived at the dining room. They greeted you warmly, telling you to sit down and be comfortable. Tobio's mother even offered you a gentle side hug while his sister comments on how great your hair looks, like she always does— you'd always blush profusely at the compliment. You have always been the target of Miwa's obsession on hair— there is even one time a few months ago when you let her cut and style it to her liking.

His father, whom Tobio got his aloof personality from, is intimidating and scary— and though you see him regularly, you haven't really gotten used to his menacing persona. Nevertheless, he always voices out his warm welcome to you whenever you come over to their house.

Up to this day, it still makes you feel overwhelmingly grateful that you found a second home in the Kageyamas. With your mother's hectic work schedule and your father being one town away, you find yourself coming over at your best friend's house more often these days. For this reason, his family is used to seeing you and having you over for meals. Sometimes, on weekends when you and Tobio don't have school, you would be seen lounging around, either playing 1v1 volleyball with him on their backyard or videogaming in their living room. Your parents' divorce has been hard on you— though it's been two years, it's still not easy to adjust to having a broken family. Sitting here tonight, surrounded by Tobio's own family, somehow dulls that ache.

You mull over these thoughts for a while as you scoop up a helping of nikujaga. You look at Tobio sitting beside you who's already scarfing down his tonkatsu bowl as if he's been starving for days, unaware of your eyes on him. Miwa's laughter rings clearly as their mother tells a particularly funny story that happened to her today at the groceries. The story is indeed hilarious because Tobio began choking on a mouthful of rice in an attempt to suppress his own laughter, forcing you to abandon your nikujaga and pound his back. His father chastises him for eating too quickly. His mother jokes that he should be ashamed of such behavior in front of his future wife— the latter being a joke among the Kageyamas which you've heard a thousand times before that you don't really mind it anymore. Though, you'd be lying if you said it didn't leave butterflies in your stomach every single time. Miwa burst into another fit of guffawing at that.

Dinner at your house is never this lively, you think to yourself. As you bring a piece of vegetable in your mouth, there's one thought that lingers.

This feels like home.

Your Mom's Prius is already parked in the driveway when you arrived home.

Your wristwatch tells you that it's 7:48 in the evening. Normal teenagers would be scared out of their wits to face their parents whenever they went home this late, but not you— going home at this time of night has been a common occurrence for you lately. Since your mother started working late, your curfew also pretty much became non-existent.

"I'm home!" You called out as you remove your shoes before putting them on the getabako.

The first thing you notice as soon as you enter the house is your mother sitting on the couch, a messy array of documents sprawled in front of her on the coffee table. She still has not changed out of her work clothes and the hand bag she takes to work is lying on the coffee table along with the plethora of papers. You deduce that she has just gotten home.

"Where have you been?" She asks without looking at you, her hands sorting through the papers she's holding. You plop down on the sofa beside her, stretching your legs as you do so.

"I had dinner at Tobio's."

"You've been over there a lot lately. How many times has it been this week?" Your mother looks at you for the first time since you arrived. She has that disapproving glint in her eyes that you know all too well.

"His family may think that I'm not taking care of you enough since you eat there all the time." She continues, now crossing her arms over her chest and looking at you sternly.

"I'm sure they're not thinking that." Your defensive reply comes quick. "Tobio's Mom told me I'm welcome anytime. Besides, sometimes, it's them who invite me over."

"Why don't you just have dinner here? I'll leave you my card so you can order food if I'm still not home yet."

You don't want to argue with your mother. You learned at a young age that it's best to just agree with everything she says because she somehow always gets her way in the end, anyway. So, you mumble a quiet "Okay."

"By the way, Mom," You say after a few seconds of silence. "Have you eaten yet? I can get you take-out from that restaurant across the street if you want."

"It's fine, honey. I already ate." It's evident from the tone of her voice that she's exhausted.

She's rifling through the documents in front of her, her eyebrows furrowed. Upon looking more closely at your mother, you see that her hair that is usually meticulously curl-ironed is a bit disheveled. There are dark circles under her eyes, which you know your mother hates having. To top it all off, the way her eyebrows are knitted so intensely has you worried if it's gonna form wrinkles on her otherwise perfect skin. Her complexion is looking a little dull as well, and you can spot a few pimples flaring up on her forehead and chin, probably from lack of sleep or stress, or both. The fact that she's a dermatologist is sounding a little ironic now.

"Mom? Are you okay?" Concerned, you ask the first thing on your mind. You've never seen your mother looking like this. Though, in all fairness, you haven't seen her a lot at all lately. This is the first time in weeks you've looked at her this closely.

As if snapped from her own train of throughts, she looks up from the papers she was holding and gives you a tight-lipped smile that looks a little too forced to be genuine.

"Why don't you go get changed first and meet me back here again." She finally says. "I have something important to tell you."

The curiosity nags at you, but you do what you are told, nevertheless. You change out of your school uniform into a comfy sweater and a pair of shorts before returning to the living room where your mother is waiting for you.

You sit down beside her on the navy blue sofa, chewing on the inside of your cheek anxiously as you wait for her to speak.

"Y/N, dear," Your mother starts, taking a deep breath to gather her thoughts. "I know I haven't been present around here enough. There are days that we don't even see each other because of my schedule. I'm sorry, honey. It must have been hard for you lately."

You can only stare at her, unsure of what to say. You open your mouth to speak but your mother raises a hand, effectively shutting you up before you even spoke.

"What you have to understand is— I'm doing this for us, for you. I always come home late because I use the time off work to take care of something else. I've been busy finalizing all the necessary legal documents so I can open my own clinic. It's been a long time coming but it's happening now soon." Your Mom's voice raises half an octave in excitement. Her lips are formed in a grin and her unusually pallid complexion is now dusted in pink. She seems so happy to announce that news to you.

"Mom, that's great!" You almost shriek in joy. You're well aware that it's been her dream for the longest time to open a dermatological clinic that she can call her own. "Why didn't you tell me that sooner?"

"I wanted to make sure first before telling you. It hasn't been easy preparing for it and even then, with the cost of construction and the limited available locations, I wasn't hopeful that it could happen. But now, I think everything has been taken care of. The only thing left to do is to pick a date to start construction, and then it should be smooth-sailing from there on out."

"You still should have told me, Mom. I could have helped any way I could." Your pout is short-lived because the joy of hearing the news overpowers any sulking you plan on doing.

"It would've just distracted you from your studies. It's best that I handled it on my own." She waves you off, still smiling.

"Where will the clinic be built, Mom?"

The smile on her face dissipates slowly as she hears your question. Your mother swallows thickly, looking at you for a while then back at the documents. You are quick to note the sudden shift in her expression, though you don't quite know what prompted it. There is something wrong. You can feel it palpably in the air.

You can only hold your breath as you await her next words.

"Harajuku."

"Harajuku?" You tilt your head in confusion. "But that's in Tokyo."

"Yes, it is." A sigh escapes your mother's lips. "That's what I wanted to talk to you about."

You realize what she is trying to say before she even says it. You don't even have the time to process the information properly before she utters her next words.

"Y/N, we're moving to Tokyo."

The last half hour has been a blur.

You remember crying. A lot. You remember sobbing until your throat felt raw. You remember your mother pleading for you to calm down and listen to her explanation.

You're leaving Miyagi.

You're leaving everything behind.

Your mother couldn't stop you from storming out of the house. You just wanted to get away from her for a while. Part of you is mad at your mother for springing up the news like that. It's ironic that she thought this would be the best way to tell you. If anything, telling you all of it at once only succeeded in making you feel worse.

It is unfair to you. Not that you have any say on what your mother does to expand her career, but at least, she should have consulted with you before she made the decision to move to Tokyo. You are her daughter. You are her family. This kind of life-changing commitment should be shared with family first before going full-speed on it.

You feel extremely overwhelmed with the news you just got. Your mother has to realize that this is not going to be easy for you.

That if how you find yourself wandering around the neighborhood, away from your mother. There are fresh tears falling from your eyes. You're lucky the streets are dark so the little amount of people that pass you by cannot see that you're crying.

Perhaps it's muscle memory that led you to the Kageyamas' front gates at such a late hour. Whenever you have something on your mind, however big or small, Tobio is the first person you want to tell.

You look up at the house. The only lit window is a room's upstairs which you know is Tobio's room. He's still awake. You fish out your phone from your shorts' pocket, your thumb hovering over his contact name. You're thinking of calling him so he could come down and meet you. If there is someone who would listen and understand, you know it would be him. It's always him.

A sigh escapes your lips as you change your mind. Tomorrow is the start of the Spring High Preliminaries. Tobio should be resting now. Though you're certain that he will give you his time and full attention should you ask him for it, you also know that it would be selfish of you to take advantage of that. You shouldn't keep him up just so you could rant about you moving to Tokyo, especially the night before a crucial tournament.

With a heavy heart, you continue walking. You're so lost in your own thoughts that you let your feet take you to wherever they wish. Walking calms you down. It is therapeutic and healing to you, so you continue to walk without no destination in mind. The night is chilly and you're starting to regret your choice of clothes— a flimsy sweater and a pair of your school's gym shorts.

It takes you a few minutes of aimless walking before you're basking in the soft fluorescent light of a local café. The enticing scent of freshly-brewed coffee is enough to lure you in. You push the door open, hoping that the patrons inside don't see how puffy your eyes are. The last thing you want is some stranger offering you pity.

The café is small. There are only five tables inside, all of them occupied except for a single booth nearest to the counter. Before you know it, you're ordering a cappuccino and a slice of strawberry shortcake.

You sip your hot drink, looking around the faces of the people inside the establishment. Surprisingly, despite the amount of customers, there is minimal noise aside from the occasional chatter and laughter. You entertain the thought that everything that happened before this moment has been a dream— that you're not really moving to Tokyo and you're not going to be forced to leave everything you've ever known. It's all just a bad dream and you'll wake up in the morning and be able to laugh about at how silly it all is. That particular thought is calming, even though you know yourself that it is a blatant delusion.

A song is playing from the overhead speakers. You recognize it immediately as one of the songs in your playlist you listen to whenever you need to calm down your thoughts. The lyrics are in English but you have listened to it countless times before that you have memorized the words to it by now. Before long, you start singing along to it without even realizing— it is a force of habit you have acquired from years of listening to your tunes all alone. Though your voice is barely above whisper, inside the quiet café, the sound of your soft singing is still heard.

The door chime rang, signaling the arrival of a new customer.

You're vaguely aware of a figure walking past you but at this point, you have busied yourself reading the inspirational quotes framed on the walls to even look anywhere else.

"Can I have a medium latte and a slice of strawberry shortcake, to-go, please?" You hear the newcomer say.

"I'm sorry, sir. Were all out of strawberry shortcake. Would you like to pick another dessert?"

"No, I'll just take the latte." He sighs, taking out his wallet from the pocket of his pants and setting down a few bills on the counter..

"Alright, then. Name?" The barista asks, holding a Sharpie to a cup. The newcomer gives his name but you didn't quite catch it.

You look down at the slice of strawberry shortcake in front of you that is still untouched. The dessert looked good on the display but now that you have it, you realize that you're not at all hungry. You ate a lot at Tobio's house that not even your stomach can make room for dessert. You're not even sure why you bought the slice in the first place.

As the barista prepares his drink, the man continues to browse the other desserts and pastries in the display stand. He doesn't seem to find anything he likes, though. Oddly enough, you feel guilty because you don't even plan on eating the dessert he want and yet he's gonna be forced to leave empty-handed.

Once again, you glance at the dessert in question, trying to weigh if you still want it or not. When you've decided that you definitely don't, you come to the decision that it would be better to offer the slice to someone who actually does want it. With this, you clear your throat to get the man's attention.

"Excuse me?" You say all of a sudden.

The man turns to look at you upon hearing your voice. The first thing you notice is the eyeglasses adorning his eyes— hazel eyes that look at you questioningly. A spark of familiarity passes through you as you continue to study his features.

Ridiculously tall. Blonde. Hazel eyes.

You've seen him before.

"What?" He has his eyebrow raised, his hands shoved in the pockets of his hoodie.

The back of your mind still itches with familiarity. You know you've seen him somewhere before. The answer to that question is at the tip of your tongue...

"Oh! You're a volleyball player from Karasuno, right?" You find yourself blurting out without meaning to.

So, that's where you know him from. He's Tobio's teammate. If you're not mistaken, he's a freshman middle blocker. You could have recognized the blonde sooner if only you don't focus on only Tobio whenever you watch his games.

"Yes." You could have sworn you saw him roll his eyes at you, albeit subtly.

Rude, you think to yourself. He could have said yes without that unnecessary eyeroll. Nevertheless, you still continue speaking.

"I heard that you ordered strawberry shortcake, but I think I got the last slice." You motion at the dessert in front of you. "You can have this, if you want. I haven't touched it yet. I'm not hungry and I don't feel like eating it later. It'd be such a waste."

"Then, why did you get it?" The blonde is now fully facing you. His height— which you're guessing is at least 180 cm— towers over your seat. He has his head tilted ever so slightly, his eyebrow still raised inquisitively.

"I don't know. It looked good when I saw it. I just don't have the appetite for it now." You shrug casually, but the irritation about the blonde's less-than-pleasant tone nags at you.

He looks at you, then at the dessert, then back at you. His expression is unreadable— his eyes offer no emotion to them whatsoever. Suddenly, you feel self-conscious at his glances- it's as if he's both analyzing and judging you in the few seconds that you two made eye contact. It also doesn't help that in the short span of your conversation, he has managed to show that he can be somewhat of a jerk.

"Do you want it or not?" You continue when he still hasn't spoken.

"I do, but you look like you're gonna cry again if I take it."

"Huh?"

The next thing he does baffles you— he takes out his hand from his hoodie's pocket and he hands you a handkerchief. As if on autopilot, you take the handkerchief he's offering but not without giving him a confused glance. Your mouth open and close comically, willing your brain to form words to voice out your confusion. Using your phone's screen as a mirror, you look at your face only to pale in an embarrassing realization that you look horrible. Your eyes are puffy, your nose is red, and your cheeks are tear-stricken.

No wonder the blonde gave you a handkerchief. You look like you really need it.

"Crap. I look awful." You curse under your breath as you quickly wipe the moistness on your cheeks with the sage green fabric, simultaneously feeling them redden in embarrassment.

"How do I-" You fold the handkerchief awkwardly once you've dried your cheeks, avoiding eye contact with its owner. "How do I return this to you?"

"Keep it." Came his clipped reply. If he's being sarcastic with that response, you're not quite sure.

You open your mouth to argue but the barista calls out from the counter just at the right time. "One medium latte for Kei."

Without so much as a word, the blonde turns on his heels and receives his order. You hear him mutter a curt "Thank you"' to the barista before he walks out of the café. A fleeting second glance is all he can spare you— no goodbyes or any parting pleasantries whatsoever. You blink stupidly at his tall figure as he opens the door to leave, debating to yourself whether to call after him or not. You are realizing just then that you haven't even thanked him for the handkerchief yet.

You stand up from your seat quickly, taking the plate of strawberry shortcake with you as you walk to the counter.

"Can I please have this to-go?"

You watch with a bit of impatience as the dessert is being put in a pink to-go box. Finally, when the barista hands it out to you, you practically sprint out of the café.

The street is dark aside from a couple of lamp posts and the headlights of a few passing cars. It takes you a couple of seconds before you spot a certain grey hoodie and a mop of blonde hair. He is almost out of your sight. You struggle to run after him but his pace is ridiculously long that by the time you're a few feet away from him, you're already gasping for much-needed air.

The pitter-patter of your Sneakers as you near him catches his attention. He stops from his tracks and turns around to face you.

The quizzical look on his face is enough— he doesn't have to say anything to get his message across. What the heck are you doing? - his eyes seem to ask. It's amazing how he can convey these things with little to no words.

"Here." You extend the box of dessert to him. He doesn't accept it, merely stare at you with a perfectly arched eyebrow. He seems to note the way you catch your breath and the thin sheet of sweat that has formed on your forehead, but decides not to comment about it.

"What am I supposed to do with that?"

"You wanted strawberry shortcake, right?"

"Yes, but why are you giving it to me?" There's a hint of suspicion in his tone.

"Well, I'm not gonna eat it. You want it and I don't, so it's yours now. Take it."

Despite establishing the fact that you indeed know him as Karasuno's middle blocker, you still can't shake the feeling that you know him from somewhere other than that. There's something familiar with the way he looks down at you, with his tone of voice, and his general knack for being rude and blunt. You can't quite put your finger on it. Just where have you met him before?

"Is this because I told you to keep my handkerchief and you somehow feel like you owe me?"

"A little bit, yeah." You mumble honestly.

"When people usually say "Keep it.", most of the time, they're not asking for anything in return. Sometimes, they just want to give a random stranger something to wipe their snot with to save said stranger from further embarrassment."

The offense you took from his sarcastic response has you holding a hand to your chest while your mouth gapes at him. "Hey! There was no snot— I wasn't... You're freaking unbelievable— Actually? You know what? Never mind."

"Are you gonna cry again?" There's amusement in his tone. His face is that of feigned concern but you're quick to note the small smirk tugging up the corner of his lips. Is he seriously enjoying this right now?

It takes every fiber in your body not to explode then and there. He is so infuriating, and deliberately so. It's as if he's relishing in agitating you even more.

"Just take the cake so we're even. I don't want to owe you anything." You thrust the box in his direction but yet again, he doesn't take it.

"I gave it to you freely but since you keep on insisting on "making it even", I don't think I can accept a single slice of strawberry shortcake as compensation. It would be unfair for me, don't you think?"

"And why would that be?"

"For one, "making it even" implies that you should give me something of similar value of the thing I gave you." How you wish you could wipe that smug look on his face. "A slice of cake is nowhere near the value of that handkerchief."

"Right, because your flimsy handkerchief is too good for my strawberry shortcake. It's probably woven in silk from silkworms who eat gold and poop out gold silk." You try to avoid sarcasm as an attempt to be a decent human being, but there are just some instances that a good old-fashioned sarcastic snap-back is very much needed. It just so happens that one of those instances is happening right now.

During the short duration that you've interacted with this boy, you have learned that he thrives on being a smartass. He has this look on his face— eyebrows raised and lips curved in a smirk— which tells you he's about to say something that would annoy the hell out of you.

However, as he opens his mouth to speak, your phone rang from your pants pocket.

The caller ID indicates that it's your mother that's calling. Upon further look at the screen, you also notice thirteen texts from her, asking where you are and urging you to go home.

"Hold that thought." You hold up a finger at the blonde and for one glorious second, you got to see him being the one who's irritated and quite offended this time.

The second you press answer on your phone, your Mom's shrill and panic-ridden voice rings from the other side so loud that it hurt your ear drum.

"Where are you?"

For the first time that night, you start being aware that, in fact, you don't know the answer to that question. You've been wandering around aimlessly around the neighborhood that you lost all sense of direction. You look around the dark street for any signs indicating your whereabouts but you failed to see anything. The insides of your stomach starts churning in panic. It also doesn't help that your Mom is feeding your growing anxiety with her incessant panicking from the other side of the phone.

"Tell me where you are. I'm coming to get you. Now."

"No! There's no need to. I'm already on my way home." Shit. You heard your own lie before you even realized you said it.

The lie seems to be believable enough for your Mom to emit a relieved sigh, though. "Alright, honey. Just be home soon, okay? I'm getting worried, and you have school in the morning. We'll talk tomorrow. For the meantime, just get home and rest."

You mutter a barely audibly "Okay, Mom." before you end the call. The urge to slap yourself for lying to your mother had the better of you— the sound of your palm hitting your forehead is loud and sharp. From your peripherals, you see Karasuno's middle blocker jolt a bit from the sudden (and outlandish) movement. You have almost forgotten that he's with you.

"Hey, uhm, what... street is this?" You ask your companion as you glance around your surroundings in another attempt to look for any indication of your whereabouts.

"You don't know?"

"Duh. If I knew, I wouldn't be asking."

If he is any bit ticked off by your juvenile response, he chooses not to call you out on it. "How did you get in the cafe in the first place if you didn't know which street it's in?"

"I just saw it and went inside because I wanted coffee."

"Did you walk there?"

"Well, yeah."

The blonde studies your behavior for a moment, noting the way you crane your neck around to try to find any street signs and the way your brows furrow in frustration when you don't find any. His passive look slowly morphs into something akin to a scowl, but you don't see it right away. His eyebrows are creased in a knot and his lips that were previously smirking is now contorted in a sneer.

"You mean to tell me you're wandering around a neighborhood that's unfamiliar to you, at almost 10 o'clock in the evening, all on your own, without any means to get back home." The icy tone of his voice is what grabbed your attention. With slightly widened eyes, you turn to look up at him as he stares down at you. To say you are dumbfounded is an understatement. It's not even about the way he abrasively spewed his words at you or the way he gives you a coldly judging look— it's more about the fact that he has a point.

"How irresponsible can you get? Are you grossly naïve and innocent to think that nothing bad might happen to you if you're walking alone this time of night? That or are you just plain stupid?" With each word he lets out, you can feel yourself shrinking and yet feel your temper rising simultaneously. How dare he talk to you like that? Surely, there are kinder ways to get say it without him belittling you.

"Okay, fine, I get it! Stop being mean to me. We've only just met, you know." You don't mean to raise your voice like that but you just want him to shut up. It's bad enough that you're lost and can't get home without him throwing that fact on your face.

"Could you just..." You can't even look him in the eyes. "Could you just tell me where we are so I can go home?"

The blonde did tell you the name of street you are in, but not without scowling at your ignorance and irresponsibility. You are indeed familiar with the street but you have no idea how to get home from here. You don't usually come to this part of the neighborhood but that's not actually a valid excuse for your embarrassingly rusty sense of direction. Even though it's only a few minutes walk from your house, you are ashamed to admit that you can't remember how to get back.

Dejected, you give off a sigh, feeling a new surge of panic bubble up from the pit of your stomach again. A glance at your wristwatch has you almost cry in alarm. It's almost 10 PM, just like the blonde said.

"I suppose I could take a cab?" You're more muttering to yourself but he still hears you.

"Cabs are scarce around these parts in case you haven't noticed yet." He says coolly.

He's right yet again. Not once have you seen any cabs that pass by since you've been on this street. You may have to go to the main avenue to hail a ride— that notion could help you, except you don't know how to get to the main avenue.

"Was that your mother who called you earlier?" You hear the blonde speak again. "Why don't you just ask her to pick you up?"

"I can't." You mutter as your eyes look down your shoes— you don't want him to see the way your eyes start tearing up again.

"Better yet— I don't want to." You continue. "I went out of the house to get away from her. Don't ask why. It's a long story and I don't feel like sharing it with you."

You're not looking at him so you don't see the way his previously furrowed brows relax a bit. His piercing hazel eyes watch you intently and he is quick to notice how your own eyes become glassy with unshed tears.

"I'll walk you home."

This time, you look him in the eyes with surprise written all over your features. Did you hear him right?

"What?"

"It's almost 10 PM. Do you know what kind of delinquents prowl around this time of night? If I see you on tomorrow's news that you've been brutally bludgeoned to death by a serial killer, It'd be on my conscience." The way he said it has you feeling mixed emotions. He has good intentions but why did he have to ruin it by sprinkling his jerkness all over it?

"Yeah, well, if you're gonna be a jerk all the way,  then I don't want you accompanying me home." 

"Are you really in any position to be demanding now?" 

You have no other retorts left in you so the only thing you do is glare at him. Still, that glare of yours dissolves rather quickly. You are surprised to realize that even though this boy has been the single most annoying, rudest, and meanest human being you've yet encountered— you can't bring yourself to hate him based on the little interaction you've had with him. He gave you his handkerchief when he saw that you'd been crying— and albeit ungraciously, he turned down your strawberry shortcake which was supposed to be a sort-of payment. To top it all off, he's offering to walk you home— something he is not obligated to do, not even in the slightest. He could turn on his heels right now and leave you all alone, but he's choosing to stay.

Maybe he's not so bad after all.

You tell him where your house is located. He responds by saying that that's only four blocks from where you currently are, and asks sarcastically if you have short-term memory loss for you to forget the direction for somewhere that near.

The two of you walk in silence with you struggling to keep up with his pace. As you look around the various dark alleyways you passed, you feel a strong sense of relief and gratefulness that you have someone to walk you home. Everything is suspicious-looking in the dark. You wonder, for one brief and terrifying moment, if something terrible would have happened to you if you didn't meet the blonde and was forced to walk home alone.

"Why were you out so late?" It is you who breaks the silence for the first time after a couple of minutes of walking. "Don't you have a match to prepare for tomorrow?"

"I couldn't sleep."

"But you ordered a latte. Seems pretty counter-productive to me." You pointed, looking at the to-go cup he's holding.

"It's not for me. My older brother asked me to get it." 

"Was the strawberry shortcake supposed to be for your brother too?"

"No. Mine." His clipped answer is perfectly laced with the right amount of drawl and nonchalance as if to say yes, it was supposed to be mine but some annoying stranger got the last slice .

"I told you. It's yours if you want to have it." You roll your eyes and shake your head  in disbelief when he just gives you a pointed look. It's clear that he does want the cake but is too full of pride to admit it. The silence ensues again, but it's not an awkward one— you can even say that it's a comfortable kind of silence, which in itself is weird because he's a stranger and you're not supposed to be this comfortable with a stranger.

The blonde leads you to a semi-lit side street which you would never dare go into had you been alone. Obediently, you follow him despite your wariness of the sketchy-looking place. Under normal circumstances, alarm bells would be ringing inside your head if a stranger was taking you to an unfamiliar alleyway. But then, there's no urge of stranger-danger when you're with the blonde— something that you're quite surprised with because you're trusting him to lead you home when you don't even know his name.

His name.

All this time you've been with him, you haven't even asked him what his name is.

You didn't hear it when the barista called out his name for his order. It's also written on the cup he's holding but you can't read it in the dark. It could also not be his name that's written there as the latte is supposed to be for his brother.

"I just realized I don't know your name yet." You suddenly say. Your question seems to surprise the blonde but nevertheless, he opens his mouth to answer it.

"No, wait. I wanna guess." You stop him just as he opens his mouth to speak. "I hear it whenever I watch your games but I can't quite remember it."

You rack your brain for any memory of his name but comes up with nothing. Again, this just proves that Tobio has your undivided attention whenever he plays— you really can't care less for his other teammates. 

"Is it Takahashi? No? Takahiro? Tsurumaki? Tsukasa?" 

He gives you the subtlest of eye rolls. "Not even close. It's Tsukishima."

"Nice to meet you, Tsukishima. I'm Y/N." You introduce yourself for the first time that night. 

Tsukishima doesn't respond after that, not that you expect him to. He just gives you a nod, as if to say he has acknowledged that piece of fact but he isn't the slightest bit interested. For the nth time that night, there is silence once again. 

And like all the other times before, it is you who breaks the quietude once you see the familiar façade of your neighbor's houses.

"We're almost there." You announce. "My house is the sixth one on the left. Thank you for accompanying me. I really appreciate it."

You expect him to turn around and leave once you have confirmed that you're now near your destination. You have even thanked him so it would be his go signal to depart if he wants to. You then start walking away from him, thinking he'd be going the opposite direction now. However, you can hear his footsteps following you from behind. It is only when you are at your front gates do you stop, making him stop as well. 

The front door is open and you can see your Mom's figure sitting by the terrace, waiting for you. 

"This is my house." You turn to Tsukishima and flashes him a grateful grin. "I really can't thank you enough."

The blonde nods at you. It seems like he's about to say something more but decides the last minute not to. Instead, he clears his throat and says a rather pathetic good bye, as far as good byes go. "I'll be going now. Good night."

"Wait." He's about to walk away when you call out to him again.

"Take this." You offer him the boxed strawberry shortcake for the third time. "If not for the handkerchief, then at least take it as a token of gratitude for walking me home."

This time, unlike all the other three instances before, he finally accepts the pastry. He holds it on his right hand while his left holds the latte cup. If you had been focusing on his facial expressions that time, you would have noticed how his Adam's apple bobbed up and down as he struggled to find the right words to say to you. Tsukishima usually has something smart or clever to say under normal circumstances, but this is one of the occasions where he is deemed speechless.

"I'm gonna go inside now. Good luck on your match tomorrow." You say as you push open the gate that your mother left unlocked for you. "Good night, Tsukishima."

Tsukishima watches you walk to your front door after locking the gates. He stays long enough for him to see you look back over your shoulder and give him a small wave. It is only when you and your mother have entered the house did he start to walk away.

The latte he's holding is now lukewarm, which he figures his brother won't like. He brings the cup to his lips, letting the tepid liquid seep into his mouth— he will just have to re-order a hot cup for his brother on his way home. Tsukishima doesn't usually drink coffee. He mainly reserves the drink whenever he has to cram for schoolwork or if he's grinding a particularly hard video game level. For this reason, he finds that he's less tolerant of caffeine— at least, that's what he's telling himself. 

It's a matter of pride more than anything else that he blames his racing heart beat, clammy hands, and flushed skin on the coffee he's idly sipping, and not on the fact that the little time he spent with you tonight has him feeling things.

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[quartzelaii]

Perfectly Aligned

PROLOGUE

— L/N Y/N, best friend to Kageyama Tobio since age 6. L/N Y/N, the object of all Tsukishima Kei's desires since age 15.

Author's note about this fic here

Masterlist

PROLOGUE ➛ CHAPTER I

Y/N's POV

"Which high school will you be going to?" I sipped from my cola, eyes focused on the orange-tinted sky where the setting sun was making its way down the horizon.

I saw him shrug his shoulders on my peripherals. The telltale sound of straw piercing the milk box was the only sound I heard in response. I frowned at him but he wasn't looking at me. He was busy staring at a point in the distance, forehead scrunched in thought. The two of us were sitting at a bench just outside our school premises. Training had just finished for the day and as usual, we bought mandatory drinks from the nearby vending machines. His had always been either milk or yogurt drink, whereas I always opted for anything carbonated. Then, after finishing our drinks, we would walk to the bus stop together. This was our tradition for as long as I could remember. You'd think that one would be bored by the repetitiveness of it but not me. With Tobio, there was always something to look forward to everyday.

"Tobio?"

"I'm not sure." He finally spoke. "I'm hoping Shiratorizawa will offer me a scholarship."

"They'd be crazy not to." I scoffed. "You're the best setter in middle school."

"What about you?" Tobio ignored my response. Seriously, this guy can never take a compliment.

"Me?" I tilted my head up the sky where the first signs of stars were already showing. "Mom also wants me to go to Shiratorizawa."

"That's good. Their girls volleyball team is strong as well. We could still train together if I got accepted."

I felt a knot in my throat and the smile that was on my face disappeared. Here we go again, I thought to myself. It seemed like I had lost count how many times I had discussed this particular topic with him, and yet he always seemed to forget.

"Tobio, I told you I'm not gonna play volleyball in high school anymore."

He laughed, as he had always done whenever we talked about this. His laughs has always been precious to me; partly because he rarely does it and also because, well, he looks cute when he does it. I looked at his face, his eyes closed shut and smile lines forming on their corners.

Normally, I would have joined him until we were two breathless middle-schoolers guffawing over the smallest things. This time, however, I stayed silent. For the first time since I first told him about me quitting, I didn't laugh with him and say 'Of course, I won't quit volleyball, silly.'

"Yeah, right." He continued with a chuckle. "As if L/N Y/N will ever give up volleyball."

"I'm not kidding, Tobio."

He raised an eyebrow. "Why are you going to Shiratorizawa, then?"

I sighed and rolled my eyes exasperatedly. "To study, idiot! They have the best academic facilities in all of Miyagi. This may be hard to believe, but not everything is about volleyball, you know."

Tobio tilted his head at me, eyebrow still raised skeptically. I couldn't look at his face. I was sure he was giving me one of his are-you-kidding-tell-me-you-are-kidding looks. Oh, how I hated that look of his. It always annoyed me to the bone.

"You're really serious?"

"Yes."

"You weren't kidding all those times you told me?"

"No."

Tobio looked at me and it took every muscle in my body not to look away. His eyes were unreadable, but I knew exactly what he was thinking as if he was projecting them mentally onto me.

"Why didn't you tell me you were actually quitting? I just thought you were joking around."

I felt a pang in my heart upon hearing his tone; it was calm and collected which was the exact opposite of what I expected from him. Tobio's default emotion was anger. Seeing him this quiet was uncharted territory.

"I didn't know how to tell you." I answered honestly. "...that's why I always chickened out and joked about it instead. I'm sorry."

"But why?" There it is again, that damn soft-spoken Tobio.

Tears stung behind my eyes and I angrily wiped them away before they even fell.

"I'm gonna start preparing for college once I enter high school." I simply stated. "Volleyball would only get in the way of things. It will be a distraction."

Since Mom and Dad's divorce, I kind of changed my mind about how I wanted my future to go. Volleyball had been the only thing on my mind since I was a kid. I was good at it - great, in fact. Not to brag, but I was one of the best middle school players in Miyagi at the time. I still remember how thrilling it was to be with my teammates in Kitaichi, relishing the cheers of the crowd whenever I did a flawless play. There was a time when there was an article about me in Volleyball Monthly. Darling Setter of Miyagi - that was what they called me. I hated how cheesy it sounded but deep inside, I loved the attention. I loved being good at what I did. I loved working hard at something and being commended for it.

My interest in volleyball stemmed from my Dad. He played for Japan as an outside hitter in the Olympics. He retired from the sport the moment I was born, but his passion for it never waned. As a matter of fact, he passed on that passion to me. At the age of seven, I was already being trained by Dad. At age ten, I was already a full-pledged setter.

I thought volleyball was gonna be my career in the future - I was so sure of it.

But life is unexpected. Some things just don't go according to plan.

Fate reared its ugly head on my junior year of middle school. My parents divorced. Dad moved out of the house, and being an only child, I was left alone with Mom.

My Mom is a dermatologist. She's always valued academics and good grades. I think it's the way she was brought up. She was a consistent honor student during her youth and up to this day, she still remains to be a respectable name in her field.

For her, volleyball was just an extracurricular activity. She was adamant that I would grow out of it. Mom never really fully approved of me being an athlete. The only reason I continued to play was because of my father, but since we didn't live in the same house anymore, his influence on me faded bit by bit, replaced by Mom's coercion disguised as motherly advice.

I guess, I blame it all on my naivety. I was a kid and throughout all my life, I was told that mothers know best. And so, when my Mom sat me down one day to talk about the importance of education and a career with a foundation in academics, I didn't have any choice but to listen to her.

I loved volleyball but I loved my Mom more. Even if my heart still yearned to play in the court, I made my decision to stop playing after middle school.

My voice quivered and my breath was shaky.

I didn't want to cry in front of Tobio even though I had done it countless times before. Tobio only saw me cry for shallow reasons like when I got less than satisfactory marks on an essay I did for days, or when we watched the movie Up in my house, or when my favorite hole-in-the-wall yakisoba place closed. He would always call me pathetic and make fun of me but he would literally let me cry on his shoulder.

"Crybaby" He would say gruffly.

"Shut up!" I would sniffle against the crook of his neck.

"But you are. You're a crybaby."

This was different, though. This was too personal. I hated being personal, not even with Tobio.

"Hey," I felt his hand cradle the side of my face and I let my head rest on his shoulder. At this point, I was already sobbing, my whole body convulsing pathetically. Tobio stayed quiet but I could feel him looking at me. His hand stayed on my temple, pressing me closer to him. I felt him tense up uncomfortably.

"D-do you wanna talk about it?"

Amidst my pathetic crying, I couldn't help but stifle a watery chuckle. Even after seeing me cry dozens of times, he was still unsure of what to do whenever I did. I felt my heart flutter at the thought. I was one hundred percent sure that he would never do the same to anybody else. The notion was warm and inviting but it only succeeded in making me cry harder. Part of it was because I just realized that I was really gonna leave volleyball for good, but there was also a part of me that ached at the thought of not playing with Tobio anymore - of not being able to train with him for months and celebrate with him after either or both of our teams win. He would go on and be a volleyball superstar, with which I have no doubts about. He would play in the center court and conquer the All-Japan Tournament, maybe even the international ones.

And I would just be the budding setter from Kitagawa Daichi who gave up after third year of middle school.

I felt pathetic. I felt small. But most importantly, I felt regret.

Am I doing the right thing? Is this what I really want?

"Y/N?"

Tobio's voice stopped my train of thoughts. I was still crying against his shoulder and if I my mind wasn't riddled with self-loathing, I would be embarrassed of the wet patch that had formed on his shirt due to my tears.

I hummed against him. My throat felt like it was wrapped with barbed wire. I couldn't speak.

He didn't reply after that; maybe because he knew the two of us weren't gonna have an intelligible conversation judging by the state I was in. It might also be because he didn't know what to say. We sat in silence - well, partial silence - my sobs had died down into hiccups and sniffles but the sound still filled the early night.

We stayed like that for at least another three minutes before I wiped the tears from my eyes and initiated that we go home. He didn't ask me any more questions. He didn't pry further. A part of me wished that he did. Though, I was really selfish to think that way. I knew he cared and he didn't have to say it - I knew deep inside that he was worried.

In an attempt to lighten the mood, Tobio bought me a milk box and pastry from the bakery we passed by.

He has never been good with words, especially comforting ones.

He instead initiated a conversation about this kid in the photography club who visited the volleyball gym just to get hit in the face with a stray ball. That made me laugh, so he laughed with me as well.

Tobio had always been awkward and introverted at best. Still, the small efforts he made to at least make me feel alright were more than enough for me.

I felt special.

As the two of us neared the bus stop, I contemplated on confessing to him then and there. What would I say? How would I say it? I didn't want to lose years of friendship just because I had a moment of weakness. Does he feel the same? What would I do if he doesn't? Better yet, what would I do if he does?

I weighed the options in my head and it took me less than a minute to make up my mind.

I would just wait for the perfect moment and if that moment doesn't come - well, what's another bottled up feeling?

A month later after that, Kitagawa Daichi's boys' volleyball bitterly lost the finals.

My team had lost in the semi finals so I was able to watch Tobio's match by the bleachers. I was disappointed that we weren't able to qualify for the nationals, I'm not gonna lie. After the last point was scored, I remember this white-hot frustration that prompted me to cry miserably by the lockers. There was also this thought that that was my final official match. After this, there would be no more tournaments for me. The thought that my last match was a complete failure made me hate it even more.

But for today, I was ready to forget my sorrows for a moment. Even if it meant going out of the house when the only thing I wanted to do was lock myself in my room and wallow in self-pity.

I was there to support Tobio, to see him win the match that would be his team's ticket to Nationals. I had no doubts. I was sure they were going to win. After all, Tobio had been deemed as a genius, a prodigy. There's no way they wouldn't qualify for Nationals.

There's just no way.

And that is exactly why no one has anticipated them to lose like that.

I was aware of the nickname people gave Tobio. The King of the Court. I thought it was only because he was such a good setter that he ruled the court like a king rules his disciples. Today, I realized that that wasn't the case.

I stared as the ball Tobio tossed fell to the ground, untouched. The second I looked at his face, my heart ached. There's horror written on his features, his eyes staring unbelievingly at his teammates. The ball dribbled a couple of times before it rolled away, the sound echoing as the crowd gaped in silence.

The referee blew his whistle. The game was over.

The other side of the bleacher roared in a deafening cheer. Kitaichi's side was silent.

Before I knew it, my legs were moving on their own accords. I didn't know when I had started running but by the time I realized it, I was already halfway down the stairs. A lot of people, most of them Kitaichi supporters, started getting up and moving down the bleachers as well. I heard the buzz of the crowd around me as they voiced out their disappointments, all of them seemed to be directed at Tobio. I clenched my fist, contemplating on whether or not I should call out a couple of second years who kept spewing insults upon insults.

"Watch where you're going!"

I was jolted out of my anger-fueled stupor when my face came in contact with someone's shoulder, specifically, a boy whom I assume was also going down the bleachers.

"I'm very sorry!" I bowed hastily before sprinting again, not waiting for his response.

Under normal circumstances, I would have reprimanded him for standing in the middle of the path but I had a thousand things going on in my head that I didn't have the time for anything else. I proceeded my descent down the stairs and pushed my way through the throng of people.

I saw Tobio before he saw me. The rest of his team was still talking to their coach by the bench but he had just exited the court through the back door, head hung low and fists tightly clenched.

"Tobio!" I called.

He stopped in his tracks with his back turned to me. I knew he heard me because his head ever so slightly looked over his shoulder, not enough to look me in the eyes but enough to let me know he was listening.

I closed the gap between us in cautious steps. Tobio flinched when I rested a hand on his shoulder which I just noticed was shaking. It was only then I realized he was crying.

"Hey," I walked in front of him and he turned his face away from me. "It's alright, Tobio."

"No, it's not, Y/N!" He shouted and I flinched at how intense his voice sounded. Slowly, he faced me and I felt an overwhelming surge of pity when I saw the tears falling down his cheeks.

"We lost because of me! How is that okay?"

I didn't know what to say. To be honest, I didn't want to tell him stuff like "cheer up, you're the best" because I know Tobio hated being told that.

And so I did the only thing I knew how and that was to envelope him in a hug. His body stiffened but I knew he wasn't uncomfortable– he was just shocked. Ever since we were kids, I had been giving him hugs– brief and innocent embraces we shared whenever I felt like it, but he never seemed to have gotten used to it. No matter how many times I had hugged him in the past, he still reacted the same. For the first few seconds, he didn't do anything, simply stood there with his hands on his sides. It wasn't until when I felt him reciprocate the action that I knew he needed me, or at least someone, anyone.

"I'm here, okay?" I whispered once I had pulled away. I looked at his eyes and I hoped what I said was enough. I smiled sadly as my hands travelled to meet his own. I cupped both his hands on mine and gave them a gentle squeeze.

"I'm a failure, Y/N." Fresh tears spilled from his eyes and I felt him grip my hands tight.

"Tobio, don't say that. You know that's not true."

"No, you don't understand!" His voice raised. "My teammates hate me. How could I call myself a setter when I can't even synch with anyone? How could I hope to be a pro player someday?"

Reluctantly, I moved my hands away from his in order for me to reach down my pocket and take out my handkerchief. With a cautious hand, I wiped his tears away.

"I guess you just have to prove your teammates wrong– prove them all wrong." I offered him a gentle smile. "You're Kageyama Tobio. You're the best setter I've ever laid my eyes on. You're so talented that sometimes, I can't help but envy you. You were born to be a setter, and you're destined to be a great one."

He remained silent but his darkened features softened a bit. With the heel of his hand, he wiped away the remaining moisture from his cheeks and eyes.

"This is just a setback. You'll bounce back from this stronger than ever, I just know it. You have to promise me that, okay? Promise me you won't give up?"

Upon inspecting his face further, I saw that his lips were still trembling but the look in his eyes was replaced with that of newfound determination. He gave me a curt nod, as if to say he understood everything I said.

I spread my arms, inviting him for yet another hug. Tobio closed the gap between us and nestled his head on top of my head.

"Thank you." He murmured against my hair. "For everything."

When he finally pulled away, I reached up and pinched his cheek playfully. His solemn expression was quickly replaced with a pout and a glare, something I was more accustomed to seeing.

"Let's get ramen, yeah? My treat this time." I landed a lighthearted punch on his shoulder. This seemed to cheer him up. Tobio perked up at the mention of ramen. He was still pouting at the prospect of me paying for it, but he didn't say anything to protest.

"Go get changed. I'll meet you at the lobby. Don't take too long, though. I'm so starving I could pass out."

He just nodded, his hand finding the crown of my head and patting it twice before he walked away and towards the lockers. I watched as he disappeared from my view, swallowed by the crowd of players and spectators.

I could feel my heart flutter. The assault of butterflies in my stomach were borderline painful now. How long do I plan on keeping my feelings from seeing the light of day? Bottling up these emotions was torture at this point.

But still, I squared my shoulder, took a deep breath, and told myself to suck it up.

Confessing to Tobio now would be a selfish feat.

I will just continue being his best friend because that's all I'm ever gonna be.

By the time I reached the lobby, everyone was already dispersing out of the main doors. I craned my neck to scan the crowd, looking for Tobio amongst the other uniformed players that were walking past.

After ten minutes of waiting, I was beginning to be antsy. The hem of my cardigan's sleeves that was meticulously pressed - courtesy of Mom - was now wrinkled due to my anxious fidgeting.

What's taking Tobio so long?

I felt my stomach grumble, as if protesting for the delay of the promised ramen.

"You're blocking the way."

A voice snapped me out of my train of thoughts. I looked up to see a tall boy looking down at me. His eyebrows were knitted in what could only be annoyance, his hands shoved inside his hoodie. My eyes widened as I realized that I was indeed blocking the way. I was so immersed in looking for Tobio that I didn't know I was standing in the lane towards the doors.

"Oh, uh, sorry." I stepped aside sheepishly. The boy didn't move, though. He just stood there, his formerly knitted eyebrows were now raised in recognition.

"You're that girl I bumped into earlier."

At first, I didn't know what he was talking about but after a second of thought, I then remembered. At the stands, after the game, I was in such a hurry to see Tobio that I didn't see this very same boy and crashed into him.

"Oh, yeah. That was you." I mulled over. "Sorry about that."

"Are you always this careless?"

There was a pause as I blinked stupidly at his words. "What?"

"First, you crashed into me and now you're blocking my way? Didn't your mother teach you about hallway etiquette?" He looked so smug when he said it, so much so that I didn't even feel offended, just shocked at how much of a jerk he'd become in the short span of our conversation.

"Uh, excuse me?" I pursed my lips and stood a little bit straighter but he was still towering over me. He didn't look like he was much older than me, though- he looked like we were the same age. He was just so tall that he could be mistaken as an adult from afar.

"Next time, be mindful of your surroundings as to not inconvenience others."

My mouth gaped at his words. Before I could voice out my retort– which would have been a lengthy one, he had already walked away without so much as a second glance at me.

All I could do was glare at the boy's back as he headed outside. My eye twitched in irritation at not having to say my peace of mind to that jerk. At that moment, out of nothing else but spite, I imprinted into my memory what he looked like – tall, blonde, a smart mouth, with bespectacled hazel eyes.

That was my first memory of Tsukishima Kei.

[quartzelaii]

NEW FIC ALERT

Hey, beautiful people!

I'm gonna start writing a new long fic called Perfectly Aligned which will have Tsukishima and Kageyama as the two leading men. I have so much in store for Y/N in this and I'm really excited to finally start writing (─‿‿─) I've had this idea for months now!

Basically, the story will start with them being in high school but I plan on stretching it out to their university years. Also eventual smut! And by "eventual", I mean it may take, like, a lot lot lot of chapters before that happens lol. This is going to be the slowest of burns, so I hope you guys aren't impatient with that.

Anyway, the prologue is up now!

P.S. If you wanna be on the series tag list, send me an ask or a message :) Also, please follow me. ( ˘︹˘ )

[kkumri]

HE'S BREAKING THE WINDOW!!! 👹 | baby nao

[quartzelaii]

Gravity

Masterlist | buy me a coffee here

— "I'm willing to try. Are you?"

part 1 — part 2

word count: 716

The Tokyo sunset is beautiful.

From the window of your penthouse, you can see the sun glowing bright orange and pink in the distance, masking the entire scenery with an ethereal glow. You sigh as you take a sip from your already lukewarm tea.

Yes, Tokyo sunsets are beautiful.

But Miyagi’s is better.

Then, you feel it – the longing, the sudden overwhelming sadness. You miss your hometown. You miss your family, your friends. But most importantly, you miss him.

As if on cue, as if the gods are toying with you, the massive LED billboard directly in front of your penthouse glows to life. The promotional advertisement of Schweiden Adlers’ next game flashes on the screen.

You stare at his face that’s unsmiling and tense as always. You feel the ghost of a smile on your lips.

You’re happy for him. He has the life he’s always dreamed of. Still, a small part of you wishes that that life has you in it.

The advertisement shows the game’s date and venue. It’s gonna take place two days from now and the gymnasium is not too far away from you. It says on the billboard that there are still tickets left.

You debate on whether or not you should go. You know you shouldn’t. He wouldn’t want you to.

But you do.

You want to see him again – even from afar, even if he’s not aware of your presence. Call it closure or whatever. You just really want to see Ushijima Wakatoshi – your first love, your ex, the man who broke your heart.

You still remember that fateful day ten months ago when he broke up with you after two years of being together. It still hurts like shit and everyday is still another day of asking yourself what you could have done differently.

But healing is a slow process, and healing is hard when you still acknowledge the fact that you’re still madly in love with him.

“Wakatoshi, I cannot believe you right now!” Tears fell from your eyes as you shouted at him from across the room. “This is important to me too. Don’t make me choose, please.”

“I’m not making you choose. I’m just saying that with you in Tokyo, it’s gonna be hard for us.” Ushijima has always been the type who stays calm at any given opportunity but this time, he's restless. His voice failed to hide the fact that he's distraught.

“W-we managed to do it when I was studying abroad, didn’t we?” You reasoned, desperation evident in your voice. “This time is no different. A long distance relationship is possible, Wakatoshi. We just have to try.”

Ushijima ran a hand through his hair, something he almost never does. “It’s not about the distance, Y/N. I’m just prioritizing my volleyball career-”

“Volleyball?” You all but shrieked.

“I supported your career, Wakatoshi. I never once made you choose between volleyball or me, and you know that! Even if you’d been neglecting our relationship because of it, I remained patient!”

It was getting hard to breathe. Your sobs were uncontrollable and violent as you continued to cry. “Why can’t you do the same for me?”

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” He said, eyes glassy with unshed tears. “But this – us. It’s not gonna work.”

“I don’t care!” You screamed. “I’m willing to try. Are you?”

“I’m sorry. You deserve better.”

You felt Ushijima’s hesitant arms wrap you in an embrace. You tried to push him away but your efforts were futile. The front of his shirt was soaked with your tears as you sobbed against his chest. He was apologizing over and over, his lips on the top of your head. He held you close until the time he had to leave.

The memories your mind has just conjured are painful but they were strangely nostalgic. You cannot deny that you miss him. You long to see his face again, to feel his arms around you, to kiss him softly with all the love you can muster.

Sometimes, you’re selfish.

Sometimes, you do what you want no matter the consequences.

Yes, you’re selfish.

You know Wakatoshi doesn’t want to see you again, so why are you taking out your phone and booking a ticket to the Schweiden Adlers’ game?

Because you still want him all for yourself and you’d do everything to have him back.

[quartzelaii]

oh my god i just realized there was an error here HAHAHAHAHAHAHHA dw i fixed it already 😭😭😭

[quartzelaii]

hi can i be in the ushijima angst tag list if there is one?

sure!! I'll be updating in a day or two 🫶

[quartzelaii]

Gravity

Masterlist | buy me a coffee here

— "I'm willing to try. Are you?"

part 1 — part 2

word count: 716

The Tokyo sunset is beautiful.

From the window of your penthouse, you can see the sun glowing bright orange and pink in the distance, masking the entire scenery with an ethereal glow. You sigh as you take a sip from your already lukewarm tea.

Yes, Tokyo sunsets are beautiful.

But Miyagi’s is better.

Then, you feel it – the longing, the sudden overwhelming sadness. You miss your hometown. You miss your family, your friends. But most importantly, you miss him.

As if on cue, as if the gods are toying with you, the massive LED billboard directly in front of your penthouse glows to life. The promotional advertisement of Schweiden Adlers’ next game flashes on the screen.

You stare at his face that’s unsmiling and tense as always. You feel the ghost of a smile on your lips.

You’re happy for him. He has the life he’s always dreamed of. Still, a small part of you wishes that that life has you in it.

The advertisement shows the game’s date and venue. It’s gonna take place two days from now and the gymnasium is not too far away from you. It says on the billboard that there are still tickets left.

You debate on whether or not you should go. You know you shouldn’t. He wouldn’t want you to.

But you do.

You want to see him again – even from afar, even if he’s not aware of your presence. Call it closure or whatever. You just really want to see Ushijima Wakatoshi – your first love, your ex, the man who broke your heart.

You still remember that fateful day ten months ago when he broke up with you after two years of being together. It still hurts like shit and everyday is still another day of asking yourself what you could have done differently.

But healing is a slow process, and healing is hard when you still acknowledge the fact that you’re still madly in love with him.

“Wakatoshi, I cannot believe you right now!” Tears fell from your eyes as you shouted at him from across the room. “This is important to me too. Don’t make me choose, please.”

“I’m not making you choose. I’m just saying that with you in Tokyo, it’s gonna be hard for us.” Ushijima has always been the type who stays calm at any given opportunity but this time, he's restless. His voice failed to hide the fact that he's distraught.

“W-we managed to do it when I was studying abroad, didn’t we?” You reasoned, desperation evident in your voice. “This time is no different. A long distance relationship is possible, Wakatoshi. We just have to try.”

Ushijima ran a hand through his hair, something he almost never does. “It’s not about the distance, Y/N. I’m just prioritizing my volleyball career-”

“Volleyball?” You all but shrieked.

“I supported your career, Wakatoshi. I never once made you choose between volleyball or me, and you know that! Even if you’d been neglecting our relationship because of it, I remained patient!”

It was getting hard to breathe. Your sobs were uncontrollable and violent as you continued to cry. “Why can’t you do the same for me?”

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” He said, eyes glassy with unshed tears. “But this – us. It’s not gonna work.”

“I don’t care!” You screamed. “I’m willing to try. Are you?”

“I’m sorry. You deserve better.”

You felt Ushijima’s hesitant arms wrap you in an embrace. You tried to push him away but your efforts were futile. The front of his shirt was soaked with your tears as you sobbed against his chest. He was apologizing over and over, his lips on the top of your head. He held you close until the time he had to leave.

The memories your mind has just conjured are painful but they were strangely nostalgic. You cannot deny that you miss him. You long to see his face again, to feel his arms around you, to kiss him softly with all the love you can muster.

Sometimes, you’re selfish.

Sometimes, you do what you want no matter the consequences.

Yes, you’re selfish.

You know Wakatoshi doesn’t want to see you again, so why are you taking out your phone and booking a ticket to the Schweiden Adlers’ game?

Because you still want him all for yourself and you’d do everything to have him back.

[quartzelaii]

tag check

[quartzelaii]

I don't think my posts are showing up in the tags :(

Anyway, I just want to let y'all know that I updated my Sakusa fic and I'm also planning in making a third chapter :)

Here are the chapters so far:

A Sweet Way to Say I Love You

— in which Sakusa hated Valentine's Day until you came along.

Pt. 1

Pt. 2

Pt. 3

[quartzelaii]

tag check

tag check