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flowers from strangers

summary: they see someone else give you flowers, pre-relationship pairing: karasuno boys x implied fem!reader (separate) note from sunnie: this has been sitting in my drafts for a literal year. yikes. and it's like. really long. but each secton is relatively short? also I think it's really easy to guess who my favorites are whoops.

Daichi Sawamura considers himself a chivalrous guy. He holds open doors, walks on the half of the sidewalk closest to the road, and always, always carries your bag for you whenever he walks you home from school.

He's a gentleman.

So he's more than a little confused when he sees someone else giving you flowers during the short break between fifth and sixth period.

Okay. So maybe he hadn't yet gotten around to finally asking you out. But can you blame a guy? You make him so nervous, and he's already got an entire volleyball team worth of morons to watch out for. But even if they keep him busy, he had been planning on asking you to be his, officially.

And now some guy he'd never even seen before was giving you flowers.

Daichi is a gentleman, captain of the Karasuno boys volleyball team, and—if you were to ask Asahi—downright terrifying when he was annoyed with someone. He's crossed halfway down the hallway towards you before the guy (seriously, how had Daichi never seen him before?) turns bright red, glances at Daichi over your shoulder, and takes off down the corridor with his tail between his legs.

Daichi is starting to think that maybe Asahi was right about how scary he looks, but he's got other things to worry about as his feet finally carry him to you. He's nervous, he realizes, that maybe the flowers came with the offer of a date.

He's scared shitless over the possibility that you might have said yes.

"What was that about?" He tries to sound casual, hands buried deep in his pockets so you can't see how they're clenched into clammy fists. You turn to face him, finally, when he makes his presence known.

He watches as your pretty face twists into a wince, glancing between the bouquet of flowers held in your hand, the direction your suitor took off in, and then towards himself.

The flowers aren't even that nice, he thinks bitterly. Though he doesn't know enough about flowers to say it with confidence.

"You know that second year I tutor on Thursdays?" You ask, and he feels a swift sense of relief at two things. First being that your tone isn't the dreamy one of a girl who had been just swept off her feet by a grand romantic gesture of flowers, rather one on the verge of a wince. And second, he was older than the guy.

He didn't feel the most mature after having satisfaction in that, but it helped soothe his ego.

"Yeah, of course," He realizes he needs to give you an answer. It's hard for him to stop frowning at the flowers in your hand and smile like alarms hadn't been blaring in his mind ever since he stumbled upon you.

"Well, I think he might have gotten the wrong idea." You're not even holding the flowers like you want them, and Daichi's frown morphs into a grin. He's still a little annoyed that he hadn't thought to get you flowers first, but at least no one had come in to swoop you off your feet.

"Are you going to keep the flowers?" Daichi asks, doing a horrible job at keeping his relief and hopefulness from his voice. You shoot him a glance, having no doubt caught onto his weird tone, and he's hurrying to cover his mistake. "I mean, he still might think you're interested if he sees you carrying them around all day."

He's smiling, but it's his nervous one, and he can read it in your face that you have him completely figured out.

"You're right," You say, and it's all Daichi can do to keep from sighing audibly in relief. His heart is racing a mile a minute, and he still has to survive after school practice, somehow. "Do you think I could sell them to Tanaka and Nishinoya to give to Kiyoko?"

There's a beat of silence between your question and Daichi's response where he realizes you're being serious.

His nervous smile is replaced by a genuine one as he shakes his head with a chuckle. He manages to find some of his bravery and boldly swings an arm over your shoulder to lead you towards the second year classes.

"Let's see if we can find them quick. Kiyoko'll kill us if she finds out what we're doing."

He'll bring you flowers tomorrow. Ones you won't pawn off to his teammates for vending machine money.

Koshi Sugawara is only minding his business, walking to practice after school, when suddenly you're latched onto his arm.

Not that he's complaining. He'd just been thinking about you, and what you were doing, and if he could come up with a reason to see you on the day off from school tomorrow. He's a little flustered by your sudden arrival, by your hand curled around his bicep, but he's certainly not going to pass on the opportunity to have you close.

He's mid-greeting when he finally sees it. Clutched in your hand is a bouquet of flowers, wrapped in plastic and even still with the price sticker on the outside. His face twists in confusion, especially as he finally spots the flustered look on your face and the embarrassed way you glance over your shoulder behind you. He wants to check and see what you're so clearly running from, but his mind stalls as it snags on one tiny detail.

Someone gave you flowers. A really shitty bouquet, too, but that's not exactly the point. Someone—that's not him—gave you flowers.

He hasn't asked you to be his girlfriend yet, but he did take you out to dinner last week. He's not so much worried about someone coming to steal you away from him, but he is panicking that he didn't bring you flowers when he picked you up at your house and held your hand all the way to your favorite ramen place.

Isn't that Romance 101? He should have brought you flowers.

"I don't want to seem rude," Your pretty voice snaps him from his thoughts, and he swears he could almost sigh in relief when he sees you frown down at the poorly selected bouquet someone had presented you. "But I don't want these. Some second year just asked me out and gave them to me. I don't even know his name."

Sugawara could die he's so relieved that you want nothing to do with someone else asking you out. In fact, with the way you're clutching his arm tighter than you're holding the flowers, he feels like he could take on the world.

"I can get rid of them for you, if you want." He tries to sound casual, and not like he's overeager about the idea of dumping the flowers you got from some random in the trash. You nod, handing the offending gift off, and he feels his face warm as your fingers brush his. It makes him think of your date, of how your knuckles brushed together a few times before he was bold enough to thread your fingers through his. His face is surely bright red, but there's another question he can't seem to shake. "What did you tell him? When he asked you out?"

It's not an accusatory question. Not when you didn't even try to keep the flowers, or mention the guys name. No, he has no doubt that you turned him down. But he is incredibly interested in what reason you gave him, though.

"I told him that I'm already seeing someone," Your words are far from a grand, bold statement, but they're all he needs to hear. A grin takes over his features and he feels just a little dorky about the way he stands up taller and subconsciously puffs out his chest.

He likes your answer. A lot.

He likes it so much, that he's at your house a few hours later after practice. He'd spent most of it distracted, thinking about you and your smile and why you turned down the second year.

Mostly, he was thinking about the flowers he wanted to buy you.

The bouquet is clutched in his clammy hands when you open your front door, and though it was only a couple short hours since he had seen you last, the wind is still knocked from his lungs at the sight of your smile.

The fact that you're smiling and not trying to run off is a sign that he's doing good. Much better than the second year had done.

"I, uh, should've gotten you these when we went out last week." He can't help the way he stumbles over his words. You just make him so nervous. But you're smiling, and soon so is he, as you tug both him and the flowers inside.

He's pretty sure he hears you call him a dork, but he'll take the insult as long as you say yes to being his girlfriend.

Asahi Azumane feels his chest seize the moment you walk into the gym at the start of practice.

It's not his usual panic, though. The sight of you alone is typically enough to send his weak heart into cardiac arrest, let alone if you go so far as to smile at him. The first time you spoke to him, he's pretty sure he died for a few seconds.

No. When you finally race into the gym, moments before practice is supposed to start, shouting apologies to Takeda and Kiyoko about not being there earlier to help set up the net and ball baskets, Asahi's attention snares on something you set carefully by the pile of your belongings.

Flowers.

He knows he's staring, and he knows he won't have an answer that he could choke out if you catch him and ask what his deal is, but he can't change the course of his focus. Not when you came stumbling into practice with flowers, acting so casual about it, like you got them all the time.

Oh god, did you? Sure, he made it a point to talk to you before, during, and after practice as much as he could without wussing out. He probably knew more about you than anybody else on the team, your fellow co-manager Kiyoko included.

But what about outside of practice? Really, he couldn't blame anyone for getting you flowers. You're just too pretty and too nice, and he would have gotten you dozens of bouquets—if the thought wasn't more nerve-wracking than the idea of sending a serve into the back of Daichi's head.

Speaking of his captain, he swears he hears him and Sugawara struggling to stifle their laughter. No doubt they're laughing at him, still staring wide-eyed and gaping at the flowers you had brought into practice. It takes Nishinoya yelling his name—and consequently drawing everyone's attention to him—for him to snap back to focus.

Just his luck, he catches your eye, and he feels like dying on the spot when he glimpses the grin on your face you're trying to suppress.

"Is something wrong, Asahi?" You ask so sweetly, and his face burns so red he knows there's no getting out of it. Daichi and Sugawara burst into a fit of laughter, no longer trying to hide their amusement. Even you have to turn your cheek to hide your wobbly smile, but it's no use, because he sees it anyways.

He's so embarrassed, he feels it down to his toes, and he's so relieved when Coach sends them on some warm up laps to distract himself.

Except, he can't stop thinking about who gave you the flowers. Were they a third year? Were they in your class? Did he know who they were? Did they ask you on a date?

He wanted to run laps to avoid thinking about the flowers, but for the next two hours, all he can consider is the goddamn bouquet settled against your bag on the sidelines. At one point, a stray spike from Tanaka nearly takes them out, and Daichi tells him to be careful of your stuff.

Flowers are delicate and special, Sugawara had chastised. Asahi thinks he might be sick.

By the time the gym is cleaned, cleared, and Coach dismisses everyone, Asahi feels like his heart is going to beat straight out of his chest. He's not sure he's entirely in control as his feet carry him across the gym and to you.

"Hi," He starts lamely, but he's already off to a better start than he thought he would get.

"Hi, Asahi," You smile up at him, bag over your shoulder and flowers clutched in your hands. He watches as you try and stifle a giggle, doing a horrible job of it, and gesture to the flowers as if he hadn't seen them yet. "Aren't they pretty?"

"Yeah, uh." He continues just as witty as he started. "Who—who got them for you?"

Your eyes give you away, and he watches as your stare darts to the side, lip caught punishingly between your teeth to bite back a grin. With a frown, he follows the direction your attention had been previously been pulled in.

He finds that he's looking at Daichi and Sugawara, both doing a horrible job of acting like they were busy packing their bags to leave and not watching the interaction before them unfold like it was a spectator sport.

"Daichi? Or Suga?" He asks despite the way his heart has plummeted to his feet. He knows his face is probably pale, and you can read every emotion on his face.

He's a little confused, because it looks like you're struggling to contain a laugh. One more glance to the side, and he realizes his friends are having no such qualms.

"Guys," You turn and face Daichi and Suga, frustrated sigh falling past your lips despite the way they were just twisted up in a grin. "This is so mean. Can I just tell him?"

"Tell me what?" Asahi asks despite the way his two friends boo and complain about you ruining their fun. You hold up the flowers once more, as if he had forgotten their presence.

"Those idiots got me these, but they told me not to tell you. For a prank, apparently."

For not the first time that evening, Asahi is left gaping like a fish. Daichi and Suga are laughing so hard they caught the attention of the rest of the team. He's certain his face is bright red, but he can't think past the swell of relief he's feeling. He thought he had come so close to missing his chance with you.

Really, he can only think to do one thing.

"Please go on a date with me?"

Yuu Nishinoya wants to be able to brag that he's early to practice for once. He's got fifteen minutes until he's supposed to be on the court, and he's leisurely strolling up to gym.

Oh, he's going to rub it in Tanaka's face that he was early.

Except, twenty feet from the gym doors he stops completely in his tracks. His jaw is nearly on the ground, and any relaxed composure he had managed to scrounge together flies out the window.

Because there you were. And usually, your presence amps up his outrageous energy to level eleven just to hear you giggle at his nonsense, but you're holding something that makes his thoughts tumble over the edge.

You have flowers.

You're talking to your friends, waiting after school for your study group to start. He knows your schedule like the back of his own hand, because he adores the ground you walk on.

Even if you're not actually his girlfriend. Yet, he swears. But maybe he's losing his chance, because you're holding a bouquet of flowers that he knows for a fact you didn't have an hour earlier when he saw you between classes and begged you to wait for him to be done with practice so he could walk you home.

He's got fifteen minutes until he needs to be in the gym, and now he's scrambling to find something to one-up the flowers someone got you.

He checks the front of the school first, trying to desperately remember if there were flowerbeds he could borrow (read: steal) from and give you better flowers. Surely, you'd forget all about the bouquet some loser gave you when he presented the prettiest flowers in all of the Miyagi to you.

Except, there's no flowerbeds.

He's not the least bit embarrassed when he lets out a groan so loud a few of the students lingering by the front of the school flinch. He's borderline frantic, and he's never been the best at regulating his emotions in the first place.

You don't mind when he gets worked up. You just giggle all pretty and tell him the obvious solution to his problems. You have the patience of a saint, especially when it comes to his nonsense—Daichi and Sugawara had told him as much—and genuinely seem to enjoy being around him.

You deserve flowers, from him, but he can't find a single petal anywhere.

Practice starts in seven minutes. He's considering just drawing a picture of flowers, maybe giving you an IOU one bouquet. (Is bouquet spelled with one 'k' or two?)

He's sprinting down the hallway when he finally sees the answer to his prayers.

The vending machines.

He skids to a stop in front of the drink machine, palms pressed against the chilled glass and wide eyes frantically scanning through the options available to him. He's trying to remember which drinks he's seen you order for yourself, when the spots a juice brand he's never even heard of, tucked away in the bottom left corner.

It has flowers on the packaging.

His heart is racing and he knows he's running out of time, but he thinks he might just make practice on time if buys the juice and runs, maybe he'll even have to toss it to you in a sprinting drive-by.

That's when he realizes the fatal flaw to his plan.

He's flat broke.

A very undignified scream tears past his lips before he's sprinting off again, but this time he knows what he's looking for. He takes the stairs to the clubhouse three at a time—a miracle with his shorter than average legs—and throws open the volleyball club room door so fast and loud that it bangs against the wall.

Asahi screams. Daichi shouts for him to knock it off! Yamaguchi drops the uniform he was in the process of changing into.

"I need vending machine money!" Nishinoya yells, and nobody makes any attempt to move and give him some change. But then, through panting breaths, he gets out a few words to explain himself.

Mostly, your name and flowers and need juice.

Somehow, Tanaka understands what he's saying and translates for the group. Nishinoya promises to invite everyone to the wedding when, with only a few grumbles of complaints, his beautiful, beautiful teammates did in their bags for enough change to buy the flower-juice.

He's gone the second Sugawara drops the last coin from his pocket into his waiting hand and he barely hears Daichi shouting that he has five minutes to get to the gym as he takes the the stairs three at a time down.

The rest of his journey goes without much incident—though he did get yelled at by a teacher for running in the halls, it wasn't the Vice Principal so he's not too worried.

Juice in hand, he shouts your name the second he has you in his sights. You're not far from where he saw you last, talking with your friends and still holding that ugly bouquet. And okay, maybe the flowers weren't hideous, but they weren't from him, so he'd rather choke than compliment them.

He calls your name three more times before he finally skids to a halt in front of you, bent at the waist and offering the juice like it was made of gold. He's panting, and he's a little embarrassed about that.

He's an athlete, after all. Did he really panic so much he's out of breath?

But he decides it's all worth it when you grin at him and take the juice.

"Is this why you've been running around yelling for the past fifteen minutes?" You smile, and he swears it's like the heavens opened up around him to bless him with the sight. He opens his mouth to tell you just that, but Hinata calls his name from the gym door.

It's then that he realizes his entire team his standing in the doorway of the gym, watching the entire interaction. Tanaka is giving him two thumbs up while Ennoshita tells him off for being so obvious. Kageyama is arguing with Hinata about blowing their cover.

Your friends laugh, but you're still smiling, so he can't mind too much.

"There's flowers on the package!" He shouts while running backwards towards the gym, ensuring to bring your attention to the juice.

You laugh and promise to wait for him after, and he thinks he did pretty good.

Even if he was late to practice in the end.

Ryuunosuke Tanaka thinks that if he's devoted enough, you'll just have to fall in love with him. It can't possibly be flawed logic, because it's his logic.

Which is why he makes sure to always make it to your matches on time and cheering loud. It's as if you can't get anymore perfect—you just have to play volleyball, too.

He's already planned your wedding, six different ways, during the course of the match. Your team takes it in two sets, and if Ennoshita hadn't accompanied him to come watch you play, he probably would've taken his shirt off and swung it around.

Somehow, Tanaka is riding the high of your win—for all of eight and a half minutes.

That's how long it takes for him to watch, helpless and stuck in the stands, as some guy he's never seen before—someone totally unworthy of you—steps up to give you flowers.

He's practically raging in the stands, almost ready to tear the place apart. Ennoshita tells him to knock it off, and if the crowd wasn't separating him from the loser who brought you flowers, he probably would've done something about the smug look on the face of the guy encroaching on you. With a pout so childish he probably should be embarrassed, Tanaka can only watch you show off your flowers from the stranger to your teammates.

Oh, he can so do better.

If you want flowers, he'll get you flowers. He'll get you so many flowers you'll be sick of them, and the ugly bouquet from some random will be nothing more than a nightmare to you.

And he does it, too.

For two weeks, every day, he's bringing you flowers. In the morning before classes, or after school in that sweet twenty minutes where neither of your practices have started and he's able to talk to you all smooth-like.

Meaning he can barely get a word out to you after practically shoving the flowers into your hands.

Everyday.

For two weeks.

Ennoshita tells him he's being lame, but Nishinoya is all for it, and your smile is like a shot through his heart every time he hands you flowers. It's enough to sustain him, though he has to admit his wallet is taking a beating from his show of affection.

Everything changes when they're finally able to lure Nekoma to a practice match on their home turf. Old rivalries and new egos competing in Karasuno's gym, and minutes before the match is about to start Tanaka spots something holy from the corner of his eye.

It's you. Flanked by a few of your teammates and sizing up Nekoma within seconds, but it's you. Tanaka is distracted immediately, nearly taking a set to the face instead practicing a spike like he was ordered by Ukai. Daichi shouts something about staying focused, but Noya fires back at him a plea to not interrupt true love.

Tanaka hears maybe a third of what's said, because you're standing in his gym like you're going stay and watch—and you're holding flowers.

Ennoshita shoves him in the direction of you, claiming that it's obvious he won't be able focus on the match until he talks to you. As Tanaka approaches, your friends give encouraging smiles and slip away to talk to Kiyoko.

He means to ask what you're doing here, but the words don't come out. All he does is make fish out of water faces while glancing between you and the flowers, silently asking for an explanation.

"These are for you, after you win the practice match." You tell him simply, and with the way your pretty, pretty voice hits his ears, he knows it's true. He will win, because you said he will.

"Okay," He nods, eyes wide and face flushed. He knows he sounds breathless, but he's barely warmed up enough to use it as an excuse.

"And stop giving me so many flowers. I appreciate them," You hurry to assure, though he's ready to agree to anything you say. Anything. "but I've run out of vases to put them in. I've given the last four to my neighbors."

"Okay," He nods, again. Breathless, again. He's honestly not even sure this conversation is happening, but the grin that curves your lips upwards is too heavenly to just be a dream.

"Now, go kick some Nekoma ass, Ryuu."

"Okay,"

Tanaka turns around, and finds his whole team watching for his reaction. All he can think to do—to function, really—is raise his fists in the air and yell in victory.

You giggle at his excitement. Nekoma's Yamamoto can be heard wailing. Tsukishima comments about it being a creative way to mentally break the opposing team.

Tanaka hopes you stay watching him, because he feels ready to outplay Ushiwaka.

Tobio Kageyama hates studying. It's not as fun as volleyball, and takes up too much time and brainpower. He's not good at it either, which adds another level of frustration to an already unenjoyable experience.

But he gets to see you, which makes his Ukai-mandated tutoring sessions just a little bit more bearable.

You're quiet, which he likes, but you're not a pushover. You keep him in check—which Daichi says should earn you a Nobel Peace Prize, whatever that means—and on task, for the most part.

Though, he does spend the first ten and last fifteen minutes of each study session focusing more on you rather than his notes. He watches you with the same focused precision he uses to analyze volleyball plays. Tobio feels the same way, too; like he wants to know every part of you with absolute perfection.

It's why he doesn't notice the no-named scrub approaching in the final minutes of the study session. You're packing up, chatting with him about something he can't actually hear over his internal dialogue trying to figure out a way to ask you to come to Karasuno's next tournament.

It's too late by the time he realizes that someone else has come to steal your attention away. You, as always, are polite to the interrupter. Tobio is, predictably, not.

He keeps his mouth shut, teeth practically cracking together, and glares as the nobody hands you a bouquet of flowers. Tobio doesn't expect to get so worked up as he does, but the sight of you clutching flowers someone else got you is both a shot to his pride and has something tightening in his chest.

He doesn't understand it, and he doesn't like it.

The scrub leaves, followed out by nothing less than Tobio's harshest glare. You clear your throat, and his attention is snapped back to you, still sitting across the table from him. Your pretty brows are tugged into a pout of concern, and Tobio nearly melts at the sight.

"Everything alright, Kageyama?" You ask him, carefully quiet and mindful of the fact you're still seated in the library. He nods, stiffly, ears burning and unable to meet your gaze.

"Do you..." He trails off, clearing his throat and rubbing the back of his neck while he tries to find his non-volleyball confidence. He winces at his awkward tone, but you remain still, attentive. The tight thing in his chest twists a little at your care. "Do you like flowers?"

You glance at the bouquet you were just given, like it's the first time you've seen it, despite it just being handed to you. Tobio watches as you fail to hide the grimace at the flowers, and he feels his ears burn even further when he realizes relief floods through him.

"I do," You explain, but you don't sound convinced. "I'm just... not into him."

Tobio leaves the conversation there, but he's still thinking about it a week later. That uncomfortable feeling in his chest when you were first given the flowers. By someone other than him.

He comes prepared for your next study session, albeit a bit stiff.

You're waiting at your usual table in the library, and it's on awkward feet that he approaches. You glance up from your textbooks when he gets close, eyes widening in shock when you see what he's holding.

A dozen roses.

Tobio can't look at you when he shoves the flowers in your direction, arm jutting out like he's handing you a loaded weapon and not a symbol of his affection.

But you're smiling. Warm and bright and wholly unlike last week's flowers from the scrub. There's another burning feeling in Tobio's chest when you accept the bouquet.

Pride.

Shoyo Hinata doesn't really believe his eyes when he sees you walk out to meet him in front of the school at the end of the day.

He's waiting by the front of the building, where he always is on days when your clubs end at the same times and he's able to walk you to the station. It's his favorite part of the week, and the only time he's willing to leave the gym before Kageyama.

Half the team still doesn't actually believe that you let him walk you.

He's grinning like always when he first sees you come into frame, nearly vibrating in place and calling your name as if you can't see him. Your smile is so pretty it catches him off guard, distracts him from his worst nightmare cradled in your arms.

You're ten feet away from him when finally notices, and his cheering stops immediately.

"Hey! Who gave you those flowers!" It should be a question, Shoyo realizes after the words fly out of his mouth, though it sounds more like a demand to tell him. You, sweet as always, don't scold him for his outburst.

"Hi, Shoyo," You greet him first, voice kind as you come to stand at his side. He's visibly pouting at the bouquet in your arms, but he can't find it in him care. "They're from this guy in my club. He asked me on a date, but I turned him down."

He tries not to let his joy show too obviously on his face, but he knows he's too easy to read. With his nerves calmed—at least for the moment—with the knowledge that you turned down the random guy from club, he's able to act at least a little bit normal on your trek to the station.

But now? Now he's on a mission.

He tries to hold normal conversations with you, really, but he's too focused on his secret task. He still carries your bag for you, even the flowers, begrudgingly, and nods along to everything you're saying. Even if he's not paying the most attention.

And, okay, he does feel a little guilty about not giving you his full attention when he waits the week for this very limited alone time with you, but it all pays off when he spots his target.

A flower bed.

Abandoning the bouquet in the basket of his bike he'd been pushing alongside you, Shoyo takes off into the yard of some random house on the way to the station.

You're calling his name in a hiss, but he's too focused on accomplishing his task. He is slightly aware he's technically trespassing, so he's careful to only take a few. Barely enough to be missed and definitely far less than what you deserve, but at least it's something.

He dashes out of the yard just as fast as he ran in, both your and his backpacks crashing with his quick movements. He stops in front of you, all wide eyes and hopeful grins while extending his bounty to you.

Flowers. Stolen from a garden, yes, but he hopes the fact that they're coming from him might account for the fact that they're a little limp from his manhandling.

"These are for you!" Shoyo declares, running on adrenaline and determination. Where he thrives best. "Please don't turn me down too!"

For a moment, Shoyo is frozen. He thinks he might've messed things up, or been too much, like Tsukishima always tells him.

But then you're smiling, and you take the stolen flowers from him.

"They're perfect, Sho," You're always so patient with him; he thinks he might be falling in love.

Shoyo finds just enough self control to not blurt that out, yet.

Kei Tsukishima likes to pretend that he doesn't watch you.

He thinks he's pretty good at it, too, when he's spent half a term watching you from afar without being confronted about it once. If anyone where to ask him, he'd deny it anyways, but there's a smug satisfaction he gets at not being caught.

He's lingering the hallway between classes, listening to Tadashi complain about some problem or another he's running into while practicing his jump float serves. Kei doesn't really hear him, because his attention is solely focused on you.

You're a little ways down the hallway, minding your own business while selecting from the vending machine. You're not in any type of danger that would require him to watch you so intently, but his attention has barely strayed from you since the moment you walked off with a muttered be right back, guys.

Tadashi is still talking, so he misses the way Kei's focus narrows on a second year approaching you, flowers in hand like he's living in some shoujo manga. He tells himself he doesn't care, but he stands straighter and narrows his eyes while watching the exchange.

The guy says something to you, looking like he's never talked to a girl in his life. You smile back—which Kei nearly rolls his eyes at—and take the flowers offered to you with a grin. As a final nail in the coffin, the second year hands you a folded piece of paper.

As soon as the guy walks off, Kei is closing the distance between the two of you. He doesn't even care that he might be blowing his whole I don't care persona, or his I'm not always watching you like a lovesick fool bit, either.

"What was that about?" Kei tries for nonchalance but it comes out more strained that he would've liked. You don't seem to notice the difference in his tone, thankfully, but he doesn't like the way you're smiling at the flowers so wistfully.

"He asked me out." You shrugged, fighting a grin that makes him scowl even more than usual. You hold up the paper he gave you, and now that he's not watching you from across the hallways, he can see the numbers scrawled across it. "Gave me his number and everything."

"Don't tell me you're actually going to entertain him." He keeps his voice purposefully flat, devoid of emotion. You shrug again, cheeks burning, and though he keeps his face neutral, Kei memorizes the way you look all pouty and flushed.

"I don't you," You sigh. "This is the first time anyone's ever given me flowers. Why not give him a chance?"

Kei does not like this answer. But he can't voice it even if he knew how, because it's then that Tadashi has finally made his way through the crowd, complaining about how he was abandoned.

Kei drops the conversation, but he doesn't forget it.

He beats you to class the next day, like usual. His seat is next to yours in homeroom, and he's already set up for the day with notes out and headphones on by the time you enter the classroom.

He tries to act like he's not watching your every movement, but he thinks he might be a little obvious with the way he takes one headphone off his ear when you get close—the one on the same side as you.

"Tsukki, what's this?" You ask, voice delicately soft in the otherwise quiet classroom. You're not drawing attention to yourself, or him, or the bouquet of flowers he left on your desk before you arrived. It makes him a little bolder, a little more willing to be honest with you.

"Flowers." He supplies, rather unhelpfully in his typical bored tone. Your intelligent eyes snap to him, and he has to fight his own urge to look away from your stare. He's crumbling and Kei Tsukishima doesn't crumble. "So you don't have to go out with that lame second year. You're welcome."

He sees you connect the dots, then. That the flowers are from him, and that he'd rather swallow his pride and admit you being asked out bothered him enough to do something about it than watch you go on a date with someone else.

Now he has to look away. The tips of his ears are starting to get too warm for his own comfort. Hence the headphones this morning.

"Thank you, Tsukki." You cheer, settling slowly into your seat as if you'd never seen anything so pretty as the flowers he bought you. Kei shrugs, tugging his headphones back securely over his ears.

"Don't think too much about it."

Tadashi Yamaguchi considers himself lucky to just be in your presence, always.

He's watching you with a focused look on his face while you explain one of the homework problems that really tricked you up the night before. He's walking with you and Tsukki to the club room before practice, where you're go your separate way and head home for the evening, and he's hooked on your every word.

It's why he doesn't notice the newcomer until he's standing in front of you, flowers held in shaking hands.

You're wedged between Tadashi and Tsukishima, so this newcomer has reason enough to be intimated. Tadashi can only watch—in horror—as this stranger holding out flowers to you babbles through some speech about admiring you from afar and wanting to get to know you better.

Before he knows you, you're holding the flowers and the guy takes off. Tadashi doesn't know what to do, not when he sees his chance with you slipping through his fingers. It's not like he's ever made it obvious that he likes you—god, he hopes not—but you are the walking embodiment of perfect.

And someone else just asked you out. In front of him.

"That was..." You laugh nervously, looking between the flowers and the two boys flanking you. Tadashi can only stare, face burning, while he struggles to string together a sentence that doesn't sound completely lame.

"Spare me," Tsukki huffs, rolls his eyes. It snaps Tadashi from his stupor, but just before he can tell his friend off for being rude, the blond shoves his shoulder in the direction of you. "Get it over with now, Tadashi."

And that was probably the worst thing Tsukki could've said before walking off.

He's left standing still, gaping like a fish at you. It doesn't help that you're looking to him for answers, still holding the flowers from another guy.

This is the worst way this could happen.

"Get what over with?" You ask sweetly, not sparing a retreating Tsukishima a second glance and instead putting all your focus on him.

Tadashi is certain his face is red. He's probably sweating, too. There's no stopping his nervous laugh, or the uncomfortable tell that something is up by the way he rubs the back of his neck while being unable to make eye contact with you.

"I-I don't want to sound lame." Tadashi stammers, backed into a corner by his best friend. You don't waver, pretty face twisted into concern the longer he drags this out. Now or never. "But, uh, I maybe had a plan to... to get the courage to ask you... out?"

It takes a moment for his roundabout answer to process in your mind, and every millisecond that ticks by in silence only deepens the wince on his face. He's finally going to do it. He's going kill Tsukishima.

You don't say anything. Not even when you turn, walking away from him. Tadashi feels his whole world fall apart around him for the time it takes you to walk ten feet to the nearest garbage can.

You drop the flowers in the trash, and walk back to him. Now it's his turn for his brain to catch up.

"Okay," You nod, determined, standing in front of him with no flowers and every expectation. "Do it."

"Do... what?"

"Ask me out."

You're so certain in your words, tiny grin cracking your soft lips. You want him to ask you out. He's still reeling from the devastation of watching you walk away from him seconds ago, and now he's suffering the whiplash of you telling him to ask you out.

This is going way better than he could've expected.

"I think I'm going to pass out."

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