#hq reader

[adoringhaikyuu]

hi, i hope your day was good! i just have a request for how tsukishima, oikawa, ushijima, and kuroo (separately) would react to reader (their partner) holding the hq men’s waistband in their sleep lmaoo

smut/suggestive or not is up to you!! also pls take your time <3

YOU HOLD THEIR WAISTBAND IN YOUR SLEEP

characters: kuroo + oikawa + tsukishima + ushijima + (gn!reader)

warnings: kuroo's is a smidge suggestive, but overall pretty pg

★ kuroo would 100% think you're trying to tease him and get freaky. but when he sees you're asleep, he smiles to himself and shakes his head before kissing yours. he takes a picture of you with him smirking at the camera, and texts it to you so you see it when you wake up––'even in your sleep you're trying to get in my pants ;)'

★ oikawa loves it because it means he's rubbing off on you. he literally sleeps with a hand down your pants cause it's comfy. will physically move your hand to hold his waistband if you don't do it one day (he gets pouty if you don't give him attention).

★ tsukishima pretends to be annoyed but when you stop randomly one day, he huffs and can't sleep. literally makes noise for you to telepathically understand and put your hand back.

★ ushijima raises a brow but doesn't move your hand, it's weirdly kind of comforting. he'll put his hand on top of yours and lightly rub his thumb in a soothing pattern.

[babu50t]

Haikyu, Hanamaki x reader

I started to write this with a different idea in mind...

welp, it's Hanamaki x reader (with a bit of Matsukawa added).

Rating: has mentions of smut so 18+.

Words: 2150

Status: finished, not beta-read

Chapter: Haikyuu - Hanamaki / slight Matsukawa

The bed had looked hauntingly comfortable, when she left her house that morning. It was almost as if it knew her day would go as shit as it possibly could, leaving the girl with an extremely bad and sour mood. The worst of the worst.

First, she missed her train. Which cost her being late to school by an hour. 

Second, she’d forgotten a notebook at home. One of which contained her homework and notes for the test in a History class. The names, dates and locations. The completed essay she’d placed between that notebook. 

Thirdly…She’d forgotten her lunch, it was sitting on the kitchen table where she’d forgotten to pick it up from. Hopefully, someone would put it back in the fridge before the weather gets to it. Hopefully. She didn’t have much of a hope there, though. 

And lastly, Oikawa Toru was a pain in her ass as he always was. But this time, out of all days, he seemed to have made it his mission to push her buttons. 

The only reason why the boys’ volleyball captain was still breathing was due to godsend Iwaizumi Hajime having taken pity on her and shared part of his lunch with her. He’d stood there awkwardly as she’d given him her best love-struck puppy-eye look, thanking him profusely all while flipping his best-friend off.

Matsukawa and Hanamaki were howling in laughter at their captain’s dismayed expression - at the occasional colorful curses she cast Oikawa’s way and that middle finger shoved at him. 

“You- swallow - are a - swallow - god send, - swallow - Iwaizumi,” she managed to say between the bites as her stomach grumbled rather loudly. Gleefully enjoying the lunch Iwa’s mother had made. 

They were sitting in the Seijoh’s backyard, taking refuge from the heath under the tree and eating their lunches. It was Monday, meaning the boys had a day off from volleyball practice and she could already see Oikawa itching to play. At least, judging the way his fingers twitched. Already, she could see some of his fan-girls standing in the distance, watching them and gushing about his good-looks (a thought at which she shuddered). 

Iwaizumi shook his head, looking somewhat amused and disgusted at her lack of manners as she shoved his food down her throat. “Take it slower or you’ll suffocate.” He ruffled her bangs, making her narrow her eyes at him.

She said something between her bites, making Hanamaki and Matsukawa snort.

“It looks as though she wants to berate you for that action,” Matsukawa said, drinking his soda, watching her with a grin. 

“Or kick your ass for messing with her hair,” Hanamaki added, knowing full well how much she hated when the boys messed with her hair. It’d happen, occasionally. Whenever she had a free time and decided to help them out as a sub-in manager - Yahaba seemed to have a fascination with her hair, much to everyone’s surprise. Kindaichi and Kunimi, much to her happiness, had learned fast not to mess with her. Perhaps, they’d seen her nearly getting into a fist fight with Kyotani over his comment. 

About how she looked like a blown-out mushroom bird-nest from hell, Sadako style. To be fair, it had been windy and she hadn’t been ready to need a hair tie or anything to keep her long locks under control. Plus, there’d been other things he’d said, causing the boys to jump in to break the two up. 

“Why’s it that Iwa-chan is the only one she treats specially?” Oikawa asked with a small pout, watching his best-friend and her with a strange look.

They were seated in a semicircle, keeping the girl in the middle and away from the setter. A move that was meant to deter her from accidentally killing him. She was seated right between Iwaizumi and Hanamaki, with Oikawa being next to Iwaizumi and Matsukawa next to Hanamaki. 

Iwaizumi rubbed his forehead, giving Oikawa a blank look. “Maybe because I don’t piss her off?” 

Oikawa shoved a finger at him, “But that’s the fun part!” 

His exclamation was followed by a collective head shakes and sighs. 

“Who’s gonna tell his parents why their son will be buried?” 

“I knew he was doing it on purpose.”

“...Someone remind me not to break those two apart the next time they argue.”

“Hey!”

“Agreed!” 

“Idiots,” she muttered, swallowing her food and thanking Hanamaki as he handed her a drink. Their fingers brushed, sending a jolt down her spine. She noticed him grin, making her eye him carefully. His hand slithered down, leaning slightly forward to cover it up as he reached for a sausage from someone’s open bento on the ground before them. 

She handed the remaining food to Iwaizumi, before taking a more relaxed pose as she watched the boys making fun of Oikawa. The entire time, Hanamaki’s fingers circled on her back, in areas the others didn’t see. Although, for a moment she thought that Oikawa noticed their closeness as he looked at her, wearing that fucking smug expression she loathed on him. Or when Iwaizumi turned a bit red when he glanced over just when Hanamaki’s fingers went under her shirt. 

The only one not reacting to them was Matsukawa, but that might be due to the fact he was used to it. Too many times had he been there when things got a bit out of hand, steamy and would sometimes join in. 

“You handed Iwaizumi the chopsticks you used?” Hanamaki asked her, quietly whispering to her as Oikawa tried to defend himself over another ‘false’ accusation from the said Vice-Captain. 

His fingers pinched her skin, lightly but enough for her to bite her lip. 

“Are you getting jealous over that?” She whispered back, shifting her legs from one side to another, brushing against Hanamaki’s shoulder as she did so. “We’ve drank from the same water bottle, Makki.” 

Perhaps, the only person she’s seen him jealous about was Oikawa. But that was also for a reason, considering how Oikawa flirted with almost anyone wearing a skirt. The amount of times he made a pass at her only to be told she doesn’t go for fuckboys. 

He sighed, resting his hand on her back. “You just had to remind me that, didn’t you?” 

“You’re the one unwilling to share food with me and I didn’t have anything with me, so deal with it,” she nudged him with her shoulder, unknowingly revealing a mark she’d thought to have hidden. His dark eyes glanced at it and a smile crept on his lips.

“You might wanna pull up your collar a bit,” he said, gesturing to the hickey he’d left her. One of the many.

And the fifth reason behind her bad mood was Hanamaki Takahiro, the very reason why she ran late in the first place. His hands on her body, making use of her quiet, empty home. Lips trailing on her every part, inch of her body - savouring the feel as he claimed her. The moans and expressions she made as he thrust into her, or as she rode him. It all flashed in her mind, making her curse the fact that he had to go back to home because one of her siblings had decided to leave the sleep-over earlier. 

Lips pursed, she pulled the collar up, making sure nothing could be seen.

Her parents weren’t the types to allow a boy to sleep over without issues, especially when the said guy was an athlete, who according to her mother liked to mess around and never settled. Too many times had she heard that argument, over her choice of friends with the boys in the volleyball team. She just kept navigating back to them, somehow managing to keep her questionable relationship with both Hanamaki and Matsukawa under the wraps. Matsukawa being there occasionally, a curious join she hadn’t originally expected but didn’t quite say no to. A curiosity killed the cat as they said. 

Most of the time, she ended up at either of the two places - or hers, when they knew for certain the place was empty. When her siblings wouldn’t be there to tattle on her. 

“Will ya two stop flirting there and tell Iwa-chan he’s wrong?!?” Oikawa shouted in a rather dramatic manner, making them both look at him. 

“Not wrong, and you know it,” she said even as the others caught them up on what he was going on now. She started to gather up their stuff, noticing the time, thanking Iwaizumi one more time for food. 

Oikawa gasped, loudly. “Traitor! And here I thought you’d be on my side!” 

“She looked ready to kiss him earlier, why’d she be on your side now?” Matsukawa asked, snickering. He glanced at Hanamaki who’d shifted a bit at his comment. “All you’ve done is piss her off even more than she already was.”

“Correction, make my day more miserable than before,” she said, accepting Hanamaki’s hand as he pulled her up. She stumbled into him, catching a scent of her favourite cologne on him. If one squinted, there was a small hint of a hickey under his collar, at which she smirked. “Right now, Iwaizumi is basically a God to me.” 

Oikawa gaped at her, “All because he shared his food with you?” She nodded, looking dead serious.

His eyes moved between her and Makki. He took in the way his outside hitter stood close to her, the way his hands were holding her and how she didn’t seem to mind it. 

In fact, she looked as though she liked it. 

Ah, Oikawa thought with a grin. “Then why didn’t Makki share it with you?” 

Their relationship wasn’t really talked much about openly, just a few hints here and there. A few bets were placed within the volleyball team, ones which Matsukawa would likely win. Oikawa’s long noticed the weird closeness between the two, but had thought her to simply play it cool with him as she kept rejecting him after rejection. It had been a welcome change, even if he didn’t admit it. 

She jabbed a finger at said guy’s chest, “You can ask him.” 

Hanamaki sighed, patting her hands a bit before releasing her. “Ain’t my fault you forgot your lunch,” he said, walking over to Matsukawa and Iwaizumi as they were walking ahead. 

The first warning bell rang, signalling the end of their lunch period. 

She gaped after him, shaking her head before she snatched Oikawa’s hand and dragged him with her. “Not my fault, ya ass.” She muttered under her breath. 

“So, when are you two gonna go official?” The setter suddenly asked her, once they were inside the school building. They bid their byes to the other three, she noticed Hanamaki’s eyes on her hand on Oikawa’s before he followed Matsukawa. Somehow, she and Oikawa had ended up sharing a class together, again. 

Much to her dismay as it enabled him to annoy her even more than he usually did. It was also how he ended up introducing her to the team, and it’s how she and Hanamaki met. So a part of her was grateful to him. Another, disliked how his fans had started to think she was dating Oikawa Toru out of all people and would be in her case.

“What are you talking about?” His wrist was released, and she slowed down while keeping an eye out for his fans. 

“You and Makki,” Oikawa sang, looking pretty happy at this little discovery. “It’s rather obvious if one looks at the two of you closer. So, why aren’t you two official or in public?” 

He followed her over to her desk, even if he was on the next row, opposite of the room. She shook her head, wondering what it would take to cause him a bit of amnesia as she had no doubt he’d be going to others with this new found information. 

“When we feel like it,” she answered, checking her chair before she took her seat. “We go at the pace we like, that’s how Takahiro and I work.” 

Oikawa hummed, but before he could say anything more the teacher walked in. She watched as he hurriedly walked to his desk, but not before sending her a look that said they’d talk about it. 

She honestly would rather not talk about it with Oikawa at all. 

A text message arrived, making a small, barely noticeable buzz in her pocket. Shiftly, she glanced at their teacher whose eyes were on the class attendance book before she quickly opened the message. 

[After school, my place. Bring snacks.] 

She smiled, responding with a smiling emoji before attempting to focus on the class. Although, all she could think about was what Hanamaki Takahiro had in mind and replayed the way his fingers had touched her earlier and last evening.

Oh, she had a lot to look forward to.

I hope you guys liked it, I just felt the need to write something.

And this is the result...writing at 02.00-03.12 am.... might not be the best idea.

[dira333]

Haikyuu

Fics

Drabbles

SERIES

Baby Series

Elements

There's no fire without air - Oikawa

Where the sea meets the land - Daichi

Seasons

Spring - Bokuto

Fall - Sakusa

Summer - Hinata

Winter - Kageyama

[moonschocolate]

haikyuu fandom rise. i need a iwaizumi x reader fic rn. like so bad. pleaseeeeeee

[myelocin]

lemon flavored scones | ushijima wakatoshi.

summary: he is forty five, and love tastes like lemon.

the word love dissolves in his mouth at age forty five, for what feels like the nth time. only now, he tastes it. the consonants and vowels of your name, and the aftertaste of lemon from that scone he always hears you talk about from that corner store down the road.

ushijima doesn’t remember the name or the specifics, the look of the scone, but he tastes it now.

love is a burst of lemon, the first and last letter of your name, and the scent of your scarf bundled up to your neck at this winter. and this morning, upon the daily five minute reminiscing he has over his morning coffee, he was seventeen and sounding out love, thinking the face is his classmate who sat in front of him during his last year. it wasn’t. love was the illusion that spring’s sakura brought in shades of pink. and over lunch, he was twenty five, and clapping at satori’s wedding, thinking that perhaps all love would ever be are the fruit of his passions staring at him in front of a mirror, hanging as gold on shelves. then at the stoplight, on the way to you, he was thirty seven, walking alone down the same road that he walked just an hour ago, thinking that the height of his love, in this world, would just be a word in his mouth that dissolves and stops. that there would never be a taste at the moment, and an aftertaste to be remembered. a flicker, a sample, a light tug, but never that pull.

so it’s funny, that at forty five-- today, and right now, love is sparked with a taste and a sight. love is this start. a fumble of words, like, “did i kiss you okay?” “shall i walk you home?” and a quiet minute, before taking your cold hand in his pocket and walking with you, giddy, like he’s twenty again and on his first date. 

but then again, forty five is just a number, and love can be sakura or lemon scones regardless of the season or decade. and ushijima thinks that more than anything he wishes to walk through this slowly, around the block, right beside you, so he can savor the lemon he’s never tasted until today.

[alicemitch09writes]

hiding and seeking (i'll take what i can get)

pairing: Hirugami Sachirou x fem!reader

SUMMARY : yearnings of two confused souls, linked together by a promise that was way deeper than he made at first.

AUTHOR’S NOTES : this is a sequel to enigmatic kalopsia. Please read that first, because there are some things you might not understand if you read this first. This was a surprise sequel, or a sequel I didn’t expect to make lol

surprise, i guess (especially if you’ve read the first)

fanart by dzkrin.

Read on ao3.

Contrary to what you think - no, Hirugami and (L/N) didn't date after everything that happened.

For after everything she's been through, finally seeing the cracks built by her weakened state, Hirugami realized that even if he acted on his feelings then, knowing full well that their feelings were mutual, it wasn't what she needed.

To impose on her at her most fragile state would be a disservice to her being more than anything.

Sure, he held romantic feelings for her, but the timing just wasn’t there.

He felt something for her alright but decided to just leave it at that.

It was the worst.

He had just told her he liked her and then what, leave her hanging?

But strangely enough, she acknowledged his feelings.

It was a long time coming of reciprocated feelings.

Their mutual feelings for each were acknowledged. But it was just that - acknowledged.

Never acted, explored, developed.

Shifting foot to foot, hands clenching and unclenching Hirugami stared at the steps leading to the second floor, where she was.

It was right by the corner of the area, the apartment complex sandwiched between other apartment buildings. Where not long ago, he had walked her home from a summer festival, just enjoying their youth as they should.

While the skies were decorated in bright, vibrant colors, he was experiencing what it felt like to feel someone’s lips pressed against yours – a moment shared by both, a moment he will forever cherish.

The burst of fire flowers painting the night sky could well express his burning emotions then, each color into the night like paint to a canvass.

And she was kissing him back, her soft lips pressing and melding against his. Fingers ran through his mess of a hair, burning with every touch.

That was the moment that changed everything for them both. And it could have gone in any other way, had he not taken her home afterwards.

Indirectly, he felt guilty for it.

After what happened, (Y/N) stayed with Myungim-san, her legal guardian, much to her surprise. (“It kinda makes sense now why she’s so inviting and warm towards me. And why she checks up on me a lot.”)

Despite fully knowing that it was an already pre-existing case, he wished things had gone differently. But what was the point in dwelling on that?

It was a hard, bitter pill to swallow.

A knock, each rap were in tune to the beating in his heart.

A rustle, the doorknob turned, revealing the familiar kind elderly woman. Smiling warmly at him, he returned the smile - albeit shakily, before he stepped aside to let (Y/N) walk out.

Meeting his gaze, her eyes seemed to brighten a bit, as though drawing strength from his presence.

Turning to the elderly woman, she announces her leave and two began walking. Walking past the building, towards the station, out the station, uphill their school.

The walk to school was silent, but he knew better than to push it, wanting only to make her feel comfortable as much as she can.

Seeing her bandaged arm, it hurt to see it, especially when he knew who was responsible for it.

Dressed in her summer uniform, it was unavoidable. And now, everyone saw, but not everyone knew.

Trying to settle into normal proved to be more a challenge without having to accidentally trigger some synapses from their usual routine. More than anything, worry unsettled his nerves. Worry turning to guilt, guilt turning to fear.

Her life would never be the same again, whatever sense of normalcy she was trying to achieve and gain was hanging by a thread.

Still, (Y/N) stuck by him.

Just like he promised.

Despite it all, their relationship remained as is, despite the obvious change. To their friends though, they knew there was something deeper in their relationship.

Pretending not to notice the way the distance between them closed, how at times they would be sharing a touch, a look.

“Ara~” someone said by the entryway, just as she was taking her shoes off.

Noticeably, the tall brunet shockingly wavered.

“What the-“ Hirugami choked, a surprising first for her. “nee-san, you’re here?”

“What an uncute greeting, you dork.”

Unsure how to deal with the situation, (Y/N) could only stand there, watching as the siblings interacted. Shifting slightly from her spot, she peered over to look over the tall lad’s frame to get a glimpse.

Hirugami Sachiko.

Hirugami’s older sister by four years.

“Good afternoon,” the younger girl greeted with a short bow tentatively, the older teen quickly turning to her.

“Ah, afternoon~” her eyes, sharper and more mischievous than that of her younger brother’s narrowed at her. “You must be (L/N) (Y/N), right?”

“Yes,”

“I’ve heard lots about you~”

“Pardon?”

“Nee-san, seriously, why are you here?” Hirugami cuts, narrowing his eyes at her.

“Can’t I visit?”

“You have a boyfriend.” There was a clear ‘duh’ to his tone, exasperated. Rare to hear from him.

“I’m not banned from my own house just because of said boyfriend,” the older sister – Sachiko, replies easily, brushing hair over her shoulder.

“Still, don’t you usually stay there until you forget you have a home?”

Brown eyes narrowing at her little brother, she then slid her eyes towards the guest at the door, watching the sibling back-and-forth.

“Piece of shit, ain’t he?” she asks aloud, almost obnoxiously.

Blinking, surprised to be even included in, she was just about to reply before a hand grabbed her wrist. “Excuse us!”

There was no way Hirugami Sachiko was going to let her brother live this down, watching as her blushing brother took his guest into their house. Oh, Fukuro’s gonna want to hear this!

To say the least since the incident, she’s been scared to go back home. It couldn’t be helped since Myungim-san owned the building meanwhile her aunt – father’s sister, works overseas and isn’t available at the moment to take care of her.

At first, Hirugami worried that she might have to move away. But no, she was to stay. She wanted to say. He’d like to say that it was thanks to him, but that would be selfish and conceited of him, it was her own choice. Not like she had any place to go anyway, when her whole family’s a Nagano native.

So as he watched her, play music from her (new) phone, sounds blaring from a Bluetooth speaker she owned, filling the room with music.

They sat by his bed, listening in. Then she leaned against him, him and his sturdy frame.

And then, they were lying on his bed, centimetres crossed, staring at each other as the music played.

Somewhere in his room lay Pan, sleeping away as though joining them in their quest to just lay down.

“Hey,” she called out to him.

“Hm?”

(E/c) on brown.

She shifts her slightly, allowing strands of blue to fall. His fingers twitched, itching.

“Where do you see yourself in five years?”

He raised a brow at that. “Wow, getting way ahead of ourselves now are we?”

Pulling her hand back, he easily caught the punch headed her way. Breathing a laugh while he’s at it, the jerk. “Just answer the goddamn question.”

“Hm,” with just a brush of his thumb over her knuckles, her balled fists opened up to him.

“I’d probably be a veterinarian.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,”

“Not a volleyball player, like your brother and sister.”

He quirked a smile at that. “Nah, it’s not my thing.”

Inching closer, his eyes slide from her hands in his to her face, just inches- centimeters from his.

“Should’ve guessed,” her voice was a quiet whisper, like of the singer from the current song. “veterinarian kinda suits you though.”

He smiles, reaching over a free hand to run his finger over her cheek.

“I broke up with volleyball way before I met you, from when Kourai-kun and I met. In his words, ‘maybe you’re just burn out from it’.”

This time, she hums, smaller fingers threading with his. Corners of her lips curl up, prettying her features.

“…how about you?” he finds himself asking, almost carefully. “where do you see yourself in five years?”

In the background, a new song begins with guitar strumming, long enough before the lyrics play in with a rather dark and obvious prose. However, the paragraph ends on a light note.

I will follow you into the dark

Unable to help himself, he hums at that particular line. The lyric left lingering through his head.

It takes however that long until she finally replies, as though wanting the song to filter out her thought process, to guide her thoughts, wanting to listen to the song with her.

“I want to be a singer.” As soon as she says that though, she huffs, shaking her head. “What a farfetched dream, huh?”

He doesn’t laugh with her though, face serious. Reaching out a hand, he takes her chin and gently guides it to face him.

Realistically speaking, yes, the music career is a troubling and unpredictable one. Although his information about it is limited, he’s heard quite enough to get a gist about it from her whenever she talks about playing support. But a dream is a dream – big or small, it was no laughing matter even if it were your own.

“Maybe so,” he starts. “however, I’ve heard you sing. And you play like six instruments, you’re basically a one-woman band.”

Her mouth thins, (e/c) lost, muddled.

“Music is your passion,” he adds, could still hear the roar of waves accompanied by guitar strumming.

She could only hum, eyes softening, near gleaming – gratitude filling them. Carefully, she extends out her hand, fingers brushing over his thick hair, his fringe. Closing his eyes, he relishes at the feeling of her fingers, feeling tingles through his spine. It was almost enough to lull him to sleep.

“Hey,” there was a slight croak in her voice, something she ignores as she continues. Both eyes were open now, locked on her. “if you were to send a message to your future self, what would you say?”

The question weighs on heavy, allowing the brunet to mull over. Somewhere in his room, Pan sleepily turns to his side, just as a familiar song starts to play.

“I don’t know exactly what I’d want to say to myself,” honestly, he could still hear the beach waves, her guitar strumming, her sweet, sweet voice. “but…I just hope he’s happy.”

She latches on to his words, allowing them to simmer, sink. Eventually her expression morphs into something dream-like, hopeful even.

“Me, too.”

To get Hoshiumi Kourai to understand the whole thing was tricky. He wasn’t dumb, per se, he was actually quite sharp and scarily observant. It’s just that, when it comes to finding a solution for things he only has one option: act. Whereas for Hirugami, he takes into consideration a lot of things.

It was his innate nature to be curious, to carefully poke at them first, study even, before coming to a solution.

It’s probably not the best approach, but there are a billion people on this earth anyway and a billion of them definitely have their own way of approaching things.

This was his.

Still, getting his best friend to try and understand his way was a challenge way in itself than it already has.

Most especially, because it concerned matters of the heart.

“But this...” he thought of blue hair, (e/c) eyes, the scars on her skin, the softened expression on her face when she talked about her dad, the high on her face during the summer festival. “even if I acted on them now, when things aren't really settled,” he released a sigh, “I may end up killing us both.”

Hoshiumi said no more, deciding to respect his best friend's wishes.

Which lasted for about some months after they graduated.

“What the heck man, you’re just gonna leave it like that!?” came his best friend’s booming and scolding voice.

Though it was a conversation on the phone, be in the same city (since the university of his choice was in Tokyo, an hour away from Nagano), just kilometers away from each other, but the white-haired teen’s voice was as loud as ever.

“Boy are you loud as ever, huh?” It honestly felt like he was in the same room as him.

“Fuck you, man, seriously.”

He smiled at that, staring at the horizon – a landscape of buildings, a concrete jungle. The air was different – stale, dry. Everything was a dull, void of color and life. Just…lacking.

It was thanks to his brother that he could get the chance to move to Tokyo and find even a good veterinarian school. Good veterinarian schools were hard to find nowadays.

Unfortunately – or fortunately, depending on who’s asking – being at Tokyo means he was at the mercy of crowded masses, the famed rush hour and umbrella stealing, his brother and one Hoshiumi Kourai.

(“You are such an asshole,” someone told him a night ago. “Just thank your lucky stars you have connections that led you to do what you want!”)

Faintly, he could hear, from a few windows away, music. Sweet, gentle music.

It brought a smile to his face, thinly, half-listening to his best friend ramble about the facilities in his team and how he lucked out that he was under a pro-contract, just tuning to whatever music played. The more he listened, the more his mind went back to a time he was at the beach, head against someone’s shoulder, listening to the waves, but more so on to the tune of a guitar, and to her singing.

Ah, music.

So that’s what he was lacking.

There was music all around him wherever he goes.

Unsurprisingly, with the influx of people in Tokyo – he had to remind himself it was one of the biggest, if not, cities in the world – there would be some sort of culture clash. It was hard to get around at first, had he not had his older brother to guide him (and Hoshiumi) around.

Honestly, he got the hang of it.

Still, he prefers the quiet and sane Nagano mountains over the hustle and bustle that is Tokyo.

In the craziness that is now his new life, he found solace in music.

Thankfully, Tokyo has quite a lot of those, too.

He once found himself in a record shop, drawn entirely by the sight of vinyl records, even CDs, and the sound of music. Talking a step further in, it was though he could feel his feet sink into the sand, could feel the breeze through his scalp, the smell of saltwater.

Another step in, the faint sound of drums playing overhead. He could almost see a uniformed girl with blue-dyed hair slamming through, a smile on her face.

He might as well be in the heart of her being, seeing as he was surrounded by everything she loved.

Walking through the aisles, combing through albums, artists, his eyes then fell on the listening station at the far back.

Going back an aisle, he plucks the record and approaches a staff for assistance. Immediately, he was attended to, gently instructed how to use the turntable, before leaving him to his own devices, settling on his seat, headphones on.

Breathing a sigh, his fingers line the turntable, brown eyes marveling at the ancient wonder, then at the record he picked up. Recalling sometime back when a blue-haired girl would spend her time listening to it, surprising himself in the process when he saw the album cover but one time.

Still, the memory it serves, as he watched nigh hypnotical spin, music filling his ears, was enough to make him smile.

The distress of the chorus, the almost begging made his heartache.

As another song begins to play, he takes a picture of the store from his spot, then takes a selfie of himself with the record, then sends it to her.

Not long after, just before the chorus hits, his phone lights up, the corners of his lips quirk at the name.

Minutes later, he gets up, record in hand to place at the return bin before diving into the aisle, looking from his phone to the rows of albums. Then, brown eyes widen as long fingers carefully pluck an album of a person lying on the floor. He snaps a picture of the album before returning to his station, sliding his headphones on.

(When she received his text, her fingers quickly type a reply, her laptop was on with her music app on screen, a particular band with a specific album on display. Not long after she hit send, he replies. She glances at her screen, at a particular track number, then texts.)

Carefully, he slides the needle on track nine, then texts.

(Her finger hovers over the play button when she received his reply. Smiling, she hits play, telling him to do the same.)

He hits play .

And just like that, it’s as though he’s transported back into his room, with Pan lying in the corner, a girl with blue-dyed hair lying across him in his bed, and music.

Him.

Her.

Them.

And music.

They kept in touch.

But of course, they do.

Texts, calls, videocalls, they continue to keep up with each other’s lives.

A friendship that spun for years, teased by that one flickering unspoken attraction the two had for each other. It was almost an unspoken rule between the two, to never bring it up, to never delve into it, entertain it, to leave it as is.

It’s almost impossible to not think of the two just as it was impossible Hoshiumi Kourai ever being the silent type.

There was a fair share of embarrassment, mostly on his side when his older brother forcefully himself into one of their calls right after Hoshiumi inserted himself in one of their calls. Note to self: never take your video calls in the living room. Do it in your room.

Hirugami would like to think it was karma for all the times he pranked her back in high school, for all his mischief.

Getting a laugh out of her made up for it, though.

He could endure being at the butt of jokes, having their moment ruined by two of the worst roommates in Tokyo, so long as he got to see her smile like that. A smile that was just as pretty as he remembered, erasing that sad, broken, lost girl at the verge of losing it all.

Just the memory of her in that state, the aftermath of what happened, made him hate their distance much more. It what made him dread their graduation, hated how he was torn between achieving his dreams and being there for the one person he promised he’d be there for.

He would never say it out loud, but with every text, every call, every video call, every time he’d drop by the record store, every time he heard music, every time he saw a shade of blue, the words just found themselves lodged in his throat.

Burdened deeply by the neglect of her own mother, forced to have to depend on her wits to live by, Hirugami just didn’t want to add more to her list of burdens.

Even though she was still back in Nagano, she was making it work. Now living with her aunt, she was faring just as well as when she was with Myungim-san.

Every weekend, she still drops by Noetsu beach, mostly to visit the elderly couple who took her in.

More often than not, she plays with her fellow classmate-slash-bandmates, playing at gigs every other weekend. She makes sure to send him videos of the gigs she’s been in, each local event their band has participated.

She was living her best life, just as he was living his.

And yet, whenever they bade each other good night, after every call, the ache for the other burned. The yearning was there.

And yet.

And yet.

What can they do?

She was dating someone.

He was studying for an exam, they were having their nightly videocall when she said it. Rather abruptly.

His pen nearly slipped off his hand. Her (e/c) blinked at that, expression turning apprehensive.

“…really?” Fuck, did his voice shake? What the fuck.

Fuck.

Fuck!

Slowly, she nods, expression still there.

Something inside him shatters, his hands slowly shake, but he quickly balls them, quirking on his usual smile. “Tell me about him!”

This is okay, he tells himself.

This is okay, he repeats to himself.

This. Is. Okay.

After all, they were friends – best of friends, even! They had no other obligation to each other, regardless of the whatever they had. Friends looked after each other, took care of each other, shared songs.

Friends were like the stars to the moon, both sharing the night sky to shine down but leaving only the best one to shine brightest.

Friends were two halves of a whole, complementing each other in more ways than one.

Friends were there for each other, through thick and thin.

Friends.

Friends…

Friends …

Friends…sometimes look at the other, with shared yearning despite the miles, listen to the same music, laugh at the same joke, share secret smiles with other. That’s still what friends do, right?

He passed his exam, with a few mistakes.

Just two months later after she told him, they broke up.

(Late at night, makeup mussed and ruined, she has one song on replay with the volume on full blast.

The song plays over and over again.

All she can do is stare at her ceiling, the corners of her eyes burning before leaking to the sides.)

His first beer was given to him straight after the first semester ended, by his big brother no less!

Fukuro says it’s to celebrate, because at the same time, the Adlers were now entering off-season. Which is how Hirugami found himself at some restaurant holding the Adlers’ off-season celebration. Honestly, after a hectic and tumultuous semester, all he wanted was to go home and sleep.

Sleep the night away.

And maybe reel.

Fukuro, however, as though life came in the form of his older brother, had different plans. Giving his youngest brother a call, demanding that he come to the location he texted – accepting no ‘ifs’ or ‘buts’.

Even though he hasn’t told anyone, his brother just knew.

Figures, he’s an old man, Hirugami thought to himself, frowning at the can in his hand.

Somewhere, Hoshiumi was rattling on and on with some other player – he doesn’t know. Everyone around him were mingling, chatting, excitement over the break they’ve been waiting for since the season began, others have talked about training regimens they plan to take. Sheesh, what monsters.

Comfortable in his own little corner, Hirugami just takes everything in, a cold can of beer still in hand.

He hums to himself, lips twitching at each song that he hums.

Looking at the can in hand, the slight tilt he does to read the product name, causes some of the condensation to drip down to his shoes.

Sighing, he tips his head back, taking a sip.

Bitter , he thinks, forcing the amber liquid down his throat, smacking his mouth. It’s bitter.

(y/n): hey

(y/n): so, i made a song cover.

(y/n): truth is

(y/n): the whole time i listened to it over and over and over again

(y/n): all i thought of was you

(y/n): i cried listening to it

(y/n): and yet, it’s the song i made a cover of

(y/n): for reasons

(y/n): anyway

(y/n): hope you like it : )

(y/n): link

Right after she sent him that video, he couldn’t stop listening to it. It was on repeat for days and days to come.

His mind was consumed by nothing but her – the song choice, her singing, the lyrics, the emotion she poured into it.

Somewhere deep inside him, he felt something snap into place.

After listening to her cover for the nth time, life – in the form of his older brother yet again, shoved him his car keys to his face, winking in the process as he and Hoshiumi walked out their shared apartment.

Hirugami then snapped into action.

He came to one of her shows, driving all four hours from Tokyo to Nagano, then practically dashed all the way to the fourth floor, where her band was playing.

Under the fluorescent lights, she saw him.

Him and his beautiful face.

Suddenly, she poured more soul into her singing, pouring everything she's felt and wanted to say to him.

Did it reach him? she wondered.

When they met later that day, Hirugami was quick to pull her into a hug, close and tight, nosing into her hair, her feelings had reached him.

Without another word, he pressed his lips to hers - the same spark from that summer ago was there. It always was. It never died. It just burned, continued to burn, just waiting for it to be fanned and grow.

Grow and grow until cinders burst out into embers, burning brighter and brighter.

It was stupid how they acted just now.

He felt stupid.

She felt stupid.

They were stupid.

Hoshiumi was right, they were both stupid.

Later that day, in her apartment, clothes strewn all over the place, limbs tangling, her head on his chest, long fingers carding through blue-dyed hair, he sent a message to his best friend, though years due, 'you were right'.

[tsukkisaurus11]

Spoiler(!) Manga chapter 308 | Karasuno Vs. Nekoma

Fukunaga trying to receive a monster serve from Kageyama <3

[nayrring]

Shimizu is the female version of kageyama but you guys ain't ready for that conversation yet