Kuroo wasn’t typically one to give way to his urges. He’d always been the more reserved of the two boys, prone to weighing the situation first before anything. Something must have happened today that had him all worked up, because the minute he spotted her — idling about in the kitchen in an old t-shirt and a pair of cotton shorts, waiting for her noodles to finish heating up — he gave absolutely no thought to crossing the space to her.
The boys were so much larger than her, it was somewhat overwhelming. He crowded in on her, a looming thing, until the edge of the counter dug hard against her lower back.
He ducked into her space to catch her mouth, and she struggled to remain silent as his tongue rolled across the roof of her mouth without preamble. His hands stuck hot against her hips, pushed up under the legs of her shorts. He noted with an eager squeeze that she wasn't wearing underwear. His hips pressed toward her now, his erection rubbing against her lower belly.
He didn't even pull away when the microwave began to beep. He wordlessly reached for the handle and pulled it open to silence it.
She thought about asking him to wait. They've had sex before. He must know at this point that nothing had changed from the last several times.
She would feel the same inside as always. She would look just the same. The scars, the overgrown nails he kept begging her to file, the heat between her thighs – he'd seen it all and then some. He'd had her in several positions, and several times in one night if they were feeling determined. Hell, he'd even had her at the same time as another man on several occasions.
The same hand moved to the back of her head, twisting into her hair and pulling until she tipped her head back. He sucked along the column of her throat and a moan tumbled out of her. He knew how much she liked when he did that. It was a surefire way of getting her in the mood.
He nibbled at her ear, and the hand still stuck to her hip moved suddenly. Hand opening, and with the wide span of it he was able to easily dig his thumb against the hood of her clit.
She rolled her head to one side, away from him. “Kuroo – ”
“Tetsuro,” he corrected, before biting at her cheek petulantly.
Her face flushed. Out of everything to get embarrassed at, it was his over-familiarity. She didn't respond to that. “This can wait, no? It's not going anywhere.”
“Are you starving?” he asked.
“I mean, it's dinner time.”
“Are you starving?”
“I could eat,” she said, which he knew meant that she wasn't. Yukie could always eat. If she was starving, that meant she wasn't interested in anything else.
“Then it can wait,” he said.
For a moment she thought he was relenting. His hand released her hair, and he backed away from her a little to give her space. She gave a sigh, but it caught in her throat as he dropped to his knees in front of her, pulling at the front of her shorts firmly.
The protest died on her lips. Quick as a snake, Kuroo snapped forward to drag the flat of his tongue across the place where his thumb had just been. Her voice came as a squeak, hands snapping to the edge of the counter as she rose to her tiptoes – as if trying to escape him. But Kuroo was stronger.
There had been several instances in which he'd used this fact against her.
His hands caught her hips and pulled her back into place, nudging his nose against the fabric of her shorts as he continued to taste at her. His focus was solely on her clit. With her legs still shut, he could only do so much. A fact that was quickly irritating him.
“Open your legs, Yukie,” he said, voice rough.
Her nails dug into the counter. Absolutely not.
“Yukie.” This was beginning to sound like a warning.
“You're not respecting me,” she snapped at him, and made the mistake of looking down at him. "I said no."
He gave a breathless smile, his perfect teeth flashing. He opened his mouth and allowed his tongue to roll outward. The tip grazed her. Another warning. “Open your legs, Yukie.”
“No,” she ground out.
One of his hands fell away from her hip, before catching around the knob of her knee.
He was stronger. Her playful nature had her testing this before, riling him into a wrestling match she was sure she could win for some reason. The boys were always so pliant to her, falling easily when she pushed; bending to her will so easily it felt natural.
Kuroo had pinned her down with no effort, and something about the surprise on her face – the fear, but also the thrill of the struggle against him – had excited him.
And he'd fucked her then, too. Her wrists caught above her head in one of his hands, and his teeth catching against her cheek as he'd done earlier. He'd rutted into her roughly, digging her into the wood flooring of her living room as if he were trying to make an imprint of her body.
Bokuto would never. He'd balked at the thought when she shared it with him later. His own big hand had closed around one of her wrists as he told her, “I would break you, Yukie.”
Arousal shivered through her. If both of the boys were like this, they would absolutely destroy her.
She'd allowed herself to become distracted. She felt Kuroo's hot breath on her once again, and choked as he sucked hard at her clit. Tongue, then teeth, then sucking again. Over and over until her eyes fluttered and rolled back, hips tilting toward the heat of his mouth.
“Open, Yukie. Open your fucking legs.”
Fuck this guy, she found herself thinking. Her head rolled back with a sigh, and she did as he said. She released the tension in her legs, and he immediately hooked his arm underneath her knee. He pulled it over his shoulder, and eagerly set to work.
It was usually Bokuto that ate her out as if he were a starved man – with desperation, as if she were his final meal. But today Kuroo seemed more worked up than usual.
She was used to the boys showing up at her place unannounced. She wondered if she had never given them spare keys they would have busted her lock trying to get in anyway. Kuroo just happened to stop by to use the restroom on his way to work –
“Fuck,” she rasped, her hand snapping to his hair to still him.
It didn't work. Kuroo kissed and licked at the seam of her lips, his nose pressing tight against her.
“Fuck, Kuroo, wait – ”
“Tetsuro,” he snapped at her again.
“You have work, you idiot,” she said, pulling at his hair sharply.
She didn't know if his responding smile was from what she said, or the fact that he liked his hair being pulled. “It's fine,” he said.
“It's not,” she hissed, and impulsively shoved two fingers into his mouth when he tried to return to his work.
He immediately started sucking on them.
He did this to Bokuto, too. She hadn't realized how much of a turn on it would be.
“Kuroo – ”
“Tetsuro,” he released her fingers to say again, visibly annoyed. “It's fine. They're not gonna let me go from one no-show.”
“You don't know that!”
Kuroo dropped her knee with a sigh before standing.
Finally, he was listening to her.
But then his hands were on her hips again, and he was lifting her up onto the counter. He fit himself between her thighs and pulled her until she balanced at the very edge, digging his arousal into her insistently.
“I'm going to fuck you,” he said against her mouth, voice suddenly very dark. “This is going to happen, Yukie. You can eat your noodles after. I'll even feed them to you.”
“That's not romantic,” she said. She tried very hard to sound angry, but her tone wobbled. “And that's not the issue at hand here.”
He bit at her cheek again, removing one hand from her side to begin working at his belt buckle.
Her arousal spiked at the sound. Nothing could explain that.
The inside of her ached to feel him. Her walls clenched of their own accord and she swallowed her shame. He pulled his cock from the confines of his pants – also not wearing underwear? – and pushed her shorts aside with it impatiently.
Then he paused. “I know I'm being really pushy, but is this actually oka—”
“Yes, stupid. Lose your fucking job, for all I care.”
His other arm flexed around her, adjusting her angle, and he aligned the head of his cock to her entrance. As soon as it caught, he wound his other hand into the waistband of her shorts and yanked her into him as he shoved forward.
The air choked out of her. He impaled her onto his cock, and without giving her a moment to adjust, he began to rut against her again. Just like last time.
Except this time he moved her with him, like a toy made for this purpose alone. He paused only to adjust her legs; hooking under them, folding his arms behind her, pulling her tightly into him. He isolated his thrusts, forcing himself as deep as he could go at this angle. His teeth bit into her shoulder, muffling his grunts into the fabric of her top.
She couldn't do the same. Her moans stuttered out over and over, clutching at his jacket for dear life as he moved her along his cock. She was hardly even on the counter at this point; her weight almost entirely supported by him.
His belt buckle jingled louder as he sped up, releasing her shoulder to plant kisses across the side of her neck. It was so sloppy. Like he was too distracted by the feel of her around him. When he pressed her against the counter, he was all but folding her in half. She was pinned there, unable to escape his punishing pace. Her hands clawed at his back trying to find purchase, but Kuroo wasn't thinking all that straight.
“Fuck, fuck, feels so good,” he mumbled aimlessly.
Yukie screwed her eyes shut, unable to contain the whine that left her.
If there was one thing that grabbed his attention, however, it was her noises.
“You like it?” he asked, mouth against her ear. “You like when I use you like this?”
Her breath shuddered out. She turned her head away, but his pace was quickening. He was bouncing her on his cock, his hips slamming against her.
“You like when I use you like a little doll,” he went on to say, honing in on the way she shook and twisted in his arms. There was little she could do, however. He held fast, never letting any slack on his hold around her. “You like being my fuck toy.”
“Oh, fuck,” she ground out, voice bouncing along with her. “Shut. Up.”
He laughed breathlessly, exhilarated.
There was a pain accompanying this, too. The dig of the counter against her lower back, his ever tightening grip as he neared completion. She grit her teeth and beared with it, because fuck if it didn't feel good, too.
The friction was insane. He dug inside of her at an angle that was unraveling her faster than normal. If these boys had anything, it was stamina. And he wasn't letting up on that pace at all.
His breath shuddered against her ear, and he mumbled, in a tone that simply sounded broken, “Yuu—kie , can I cum inside? Please?”
She bit her lip to catch her moan, but nodded quickly. She braced a hand behind her on the counter. Needlessly. He wasn't letting her fall any time soon.
His pace picked up, and it was just right. She whined and mumbled and let her head fall back, which left it completely open for him to kiss and lick at in just the way she liked. And just like that, her release came in hard, slow waves. Stuttering, but nonetheless persisting through his frantic pace.
“Hng, fuck,” he hissed again, and she felt the warmth of his cum filling her. It pulsed and throbbed and ached, and Kuroo bit her shoulder hard enough she cried out.
“Shit, shit—ouch!” she whined, and he groaned before releasing her.
“Sorry,” he breathed out, still pressing into her as tightly as he could.
“Kuroo,” she mumbled, hands on his shoulders.
He finally relaxed. “Sorry.”
At last, he pulled out of her. She immediately felt the soreness, both within and without. Her knees pressed together, and he carefully helped her onto her feet again. He rose to his full height, and he looked absolutely wrecked. His hair was all fucked up, his clothes rumpled, his face flush, his mouth red – he’d fucked, and everyone would know it if he went into work at this point.
He tucked himself back into his jeans, but didn't do up his belt just yet. “Let me get you something to clean up, hold on.”
She was still wearing her shorts. “It's fine. I'll just...use the restroom.”
When she returned, he was in the middle of adding time to the microwave to reheat her noodles.
“Hey, so,” he said, nervous. “The stuff I was saying – ”
“Was true,” she cut him off. “And that's the last time we're talking about it.”
Part of her was afraid she would lose touch with the boys after graduation, just as she had lost touch with some of her upperclassmen. And it was only exacerbated when it came to light that none of them would be going to the same university, much less near the same cities.
She messaged them often during the summer break, usually in the hopes of setting up a hangout with them, and she found herself gently rejected each time.
Kageyama had much to prepare for, so she wasn't surprised there.
But Hinata?
“I'm sorry, Yachi-san,” he murmured softly over the phone – his voice wobbly and sincere. “I can't right now.”
It wasn't as if she didn't have a lot to do, either. Her university of choice would be a bit of a drive from home, so she had a lot to think about in terms of housing. Join the dorm waitlist or tough out the commute? If she got into the dorms, she would need to think about bedding, what clothing she'd take with her, and also maybe figure out if she had any pet peeves about anything. She'd heard much about nightmare roommates.
But there was more than that.
Her major? Finding a job on campus or nearby to pay for food? Her mom wouldn't cover everything.
But through all that, she felt her heart twist and tug at the thought of not getting to say a proper goodbye to either of them. She lied in bed staring at the ceiling at the end of the day, tears welling in her eyes, and wondered if they could really be that busy.
And then of course she began wondering if maybe she had imagined them being a lot closer than they were.
Yachi devolved into typing out messages to the boys – long, emotional, even vengeful messages – and then slowly deleting them before she could work up the courage to send them.
It's okay, she wants to tell them. We don't have to see each other right now.
I just miss you.
She felt herself sob a little, so she had to put away her phone before she couldn't take it anymore.
.x.
It was the week before she was supposed to leave, finally deciding to move forward with the dorms – after all, staying at home would only further twist the knife – when she finally received the message she had been waiting for.
Do you have time today?
Her heart felt like it was going to burst. She had to quickly remind herself that she should be angry. There was absolutely no reason why this message should be making her as happy as it was.
You blow me off for weeks , she felt like responding, and all of a sudden you want to meet up??
No. There was no reason to be scornful. Hinata was doing just a touch better than Kageyama was at this point, after all.
They agreed to meet at the park. Maybe grab a bite to eat from there.
Yachi had packed her things already, so all she had left were her dressiest dresses. It had been weeks after all. Maybe getting dolled up for once wouldn't be a terrible idea. It wouldn't make any difference to Hinata.
She showered, applied her favorite perfume, and sat down to smear some makeup on. It took a few several tries before she wiped everything off and settled on curling her lashes, applying mascara, and dabbing her lips in a pink gloss.
“Okay,” she said. “Stop it. You're extremely overdressed.”
The dress was one she had considered for her graduation. She'd worn it out on family dinners before. It was a starchy, sunny yellow fabric with bows on the shoulders. The skirt fell to her knees, and the waist was cinched modestly with a thin belt. On the way out, she decided to add a white cardigan to hide her shoulders.
For some reason, that felt like a step too far, allowing him to see just that much more skin.
The whole way there – walk, subway ride, walk some more – she reined in her heart rate and steadied her breathing. Just last month, seeing Hinata would never have elicited such a reaction from her. It wasn't as if he had changed since then.
“Seriously,” she mumbled to herself as she stepped out of the station and into the warm glow of sunset. “Relax.”
At last the park came into view. She checked her phone as she waited at the stoplight, but couldn't yet ascertain if he'd made it or not. Would he already be waiting for her at some park bench?
Hinata lived on the other side of town. The outskirts, really, where there were more houses than shops. She'd always wondered what his house looked like, and if it was as warm as he was.
Or as loud.
The park was fully in use. Children ran and played, dogs were walked, and a group of people in jumpsuits stretched and danced in a clearing. Yachi wandered around, clutching her phone, and glanced at every single person she passed.
“Yachi-san,” she heard him murmur from behind her.
She whirled around, nearly dropping her phone in the process.
Hinata stood some paces away, hands stuffed into the pockets of a red hoodie. He gave a half smile, and she felt her heart squeeze again.
Of course he didn't look any different than usual. He wore a pair of black joggers, his old, scuffed up sneakers, and his hair had the exact same cowlick it always had. He reached up now to rub at that cowlick anxiously, and she became aware that she was staring now.
“Hinata-kun,” she said, smiling. “How have you been?”
“Good,” he said, pocketing his hand again. “More or less.”
More or less?
“Wanna walk?” he asked, before she could say anything in response.
“Oh, sure!”
He led them down the sidewalk, in the direction she'd been heading before. “How have you been?” he asked, while she tucked her phone back into her bag.
“Busy, busy,” she said, wiping her hands dry of her sweat. “My semester starts soon so I'm getting ready to move.”
“Move?”
“I'm gonna dorm there,” she explained, somewhat surprised she hadn't mentioned it to him before. Though it could have been because she was angry with him. “It's just too far of a commute, you know?”
“Makes sense,” he said thoughtfully. After a moment of awkward silence, he asked, “Won't you be homesick?”
“Of course I will,” she said with a shrug. “But you have to do what you have to do, right?”
He grew quiet at that.
After a couple of slow laps around the park, he finally suggested grabbing lunch at a nearby sandwich shop.
Yachi mulled over the options as they stood in line – deciding and then re-deciding the closer they got to the front – and he remained pensive beside her. “What are you getting?” she asked, attempting to get a better feel of her appetite.
Or maybe just trying to settle the anxiety his silence was causing her.
“Uh, Italian,” he said absently, checking his phone.
She fidgeted with her sleeve nervously. “...Maybe I'll get the same.”
“It sounds good.”
Yachi then spent the remainder of their time in line agonizing over that. Why was his detachment making her feel as if she was swallowing sand? And why was he acting like this? As if he really, truly, wanted to be anywhere but here?
He placed his order, then turned to her and said, “I'll get yours, too. You wanted the same thing?”
“Oh,” she croaked, surprised. “Oh, it's okay, Hina—”
“No, it's okay. I got it.”
“Um,” she mumbled, clearing her throat. “Yeah. Same as you.”
“Something to drink?”
“Just water. Thank you.”
He handed her the water cup and led her to the soda fountain. Then he proceeded to wait for her to fill her cup before leading her over to a clear booth next to a window. “Wanna sit here?”
“O – Okay.”
They sat across one another, and he sipped and sipped at his water until he had to get back up to refill it. By that point, their order was being called, so he collected their sandwiches on the way back.
He placed the tray between them and took his seat again.
She didn't unwrap her sandwich until he did. At this point, she found she didn't have much of an appetite.
“So...what have you been up to?” she asked at last, watching him scarf down his food as if he hadn't eaten all day. “Aside from preparing for university.”
He set his cup down and examined it for a second, as if he hadn't heard her. Just when she thought he wasn't going to answer her, he said, “I've been doing some thinking about my future. And researching.”
She folded back the wrapper of her sandwich thoughtfully. “Researching?”
He swallowed dryly, not looking at her. “I've... I think I know now that I want to do volleyball for the rest of my life. Or...at least that I wanna do it for as long as I can. So I don't know if wasting any more time at school is really gonna do me any good.”
“Wasting?” Yachi choked out.
“I know,” he mumbled, visibly ashamed. “It's not actually a waste, and I really should continue. But... But what good will it do? It's not as if spending all my time in a classroom or in libraries studying is gonna help me improve.”
“Hinata-kun...” she began, and he held up a hand.
“I've already decided. I'm going to join a team, and I'm going to improve.”
Yachi grew quiet, and after a few minutes, Hinata continued eating. At a much more reasonable pace.
She did the same.
.x.
“So, if you've already decided,” Yachi said as they walked, cradling her wrapped half sandwich in the crook of her arm, “have you also decided where you're going?”
Hinata had stuffed his hands back in his pockets, and he took a few minutes to respond. It wasn't until they were standing at some empty corner, where the light had not yet turned, that he said, “I'm going to Brazil, Yachi-san.”
All the air left her lungs. “What ?”
He swallowed visibly. His eyes tightened. “I'm sorry I'm telling you now.”
Yachi thought about these past few weeks. These past couple of months. The lead up to their graduation, all those promises to stay in contact, and then the radio silence. She had half-expected it from Kageyama, who had never seemed exceptionally attached to anyone except Hinata, but not Hinata. And she thought about that, too. The days she spent staring at her phone, and how his one-word responses had cut away at her like knives, and how she kept making excuses for him. He had to be busy prepping for school. He had to be just as busy as she was.
All this time. All this time missing him, and practicing restraint, reminding herself that he had a whole future to prepare for and that he would make time enough soon.
And of course, even if he went to school in a different town, they would see each other. Just like she saw all the rest of them. Just like how she sometimes met up with Tanaka, or Shimuzu, or –
“How long have you known this, Hinata-kun?” she mumbled.
He had been moving to cross the street, but when she stayed where she was, he turned to her. His eyes widened a little, and then he couldn't look at her.
“Hinata,” she said. “Have you known this whole time?”
Some questions shouldn't be asked, she realized now. Some questions didn't need an answer.
They just hurt too much.
“Sort of.”
Yachi squeezed her eyes shut, and with it came tears. Ugly, unreasonable tears. She went to cover her face, but the sandwich was there, and before she could throw it in frustration, Hinata was there also.
“Yachi-san,” he whispered softly, hands on her shoulders.
He wasn't so much bigger than her, but he bowed into her space to catch her eyes and it felt like too much. She turned her head away, clutching at the stupid sandwich and seeking some way out of all this. Some way home, where she can curl up into herself and wait for next Sunday to come. So she can leave. So she can get started on her new life and never think about this person again.
She could do it. She could really do it.
“Yachi-san,” he said again, and this time his hands fit themselves to her face, steering her back to him so that she'd look him in the eye. “I meant that I'd been thinking about not going to college for a while, but Brazil...this was a spur of the moment – ”
“Then why did you – why did you blow me off this whole time?” she squeaked. She felt her face flush at the petulant sound of her own voice, and she tried again to turn away from him.
He was, of course, much stronger than he looked. He didn't allow an inch. “I... I thought it would be best.”
“Best?” she asked. “ Best? For who?”
He swallowed again. “For you, Yachi-san.”
Her hands curled around his wrists, staring, bewildered, at him. It wasn't until his lashes fluttered, second-thinking himself, that it dawned on her. She twisted out of his grasp. “Were you not going to tell me?” she asked, stepping back. “Were you – Were you just going to ship off to Brazil and never tell me?”
“I was going to tell you,” he protested, and then ducked to pick up the sandwich from the ground, where she'd apparently dropped it. “I – I swear. I just. I didn't want to distract you. You have so much ahead of you and you worked so hard on me and Kageyama and we – we – we just didn't end up... We weren't...”
He fell silent, again. She waited a second, before reaching for the sandwich.
He didn't let it go.
“I didn't want you to worry yourself over me. You needed to focus on getting ready for school.”
Yachi sniffled. She understood what he was trying to say. If she had known any sooner, she wouldn't have been able to focus.
Would she have spent all of her time trying to convince him not to go? For what? For him to stay in Japan, miserable at some school he never wanted to attend, just so that she could see him sometimes?
Or would she have spent all her time with him, trying to make up for the time they were about to lose?
It no longer mattered. This Sunday, she would be moving to a whole other city, and her semester would promptly begin the following week. And Hinata would be leaving the country entirely.
When would they have seen each other next, anyway?
Yachi found herself stepping into him, weaving her arms underneath his. Hinata pulled her even closer, without hesitation.
They've hugged before, of course. But this felt different somehow.
She squeezed him, and he squeezed her right back, even tighter. Her face tucked into his shoulder, and she became aware for the first time of the way he smelled. All the times before, post matches or post training, he smelled sweaty and boyish and hot. But now he smelled like soap, and the onions from their sandwiches, and the evening sun.
A small sob left her, suddenly realizing that there was a lot about Hinata she didn't know. It was the sorts of things you learned with time, with intimacy. What brand was his soap? Was it his favorite? Did he wake up early today for his usual jog? Would he keep doing so in Brazil?
And how was he going to move to Brazil and not know a word of Portuguese?
For one wild, irrational moment, Yachi suddenly wished she knew how to speak Portuguese, just so that she could teach him how to speak it. Just one last thing to teach him, before he left for good.
“How long will you be gone?” she mumbled, and squeezed her eyes shut when he rubbed a hand gently across her upper back.
“A while,” he murmured.
“Will you write me?” she asked meekly.
He gave a small laugh as he pulled away to look at her. It was then she remembered that they were out in public, and she was grateful that for some reason, nobody else wanted to be on this corner.
His hands landed back onto her shoulders.
“Wouldn't it be faster to just send an email?” he asked, smiling. “Letters are outdated.”
“Letters are cool,” she protested. “Something to look forward to.”
“They take so much time.”
“Because you have to think them through,” she said softly. “You can't waste a single line. You can't redo them once they’re written.”
“You can redo them tons of times,” he shook his head. “Am I hearing you right? You want them handwritten, too?”
“Of course I do. That way you won't forget everything I've taught you. You're going to be learning a whole different language, after all.”
He hung his head. “Right.”
“You'll write me?”
“I'll write. But also, I'll call. It'll be faster.”
“And expensive.”
“Oh... Right.”
“I'll miss you,” she said.
“I'll miss you, too,” he replied, before pulling her into another hug.
.x.
The first letter came a month later, and then another the month after that.
Hinata messaged often, and called whenever he had the chance. But he continued to write as promised, even going as far as attaching photo printouts. She kept them in a shoe box. The one time she decided to pin up a photo of him, her roommate asked, “Your boyfriend?”
“My best friend,” she corrected.
It gets lonely out here, he wrote at first. And the climate is so different. But the people are nice, and the beaches are beautiful.
She pinned the photo he took of it for her.
I'm glad I did this. And I'm glad you're doing good, too.
“You're more evocative in your letters than over the phone,” she commented one day.
“What's that mean? ” he asked, his voice cracking a little. After a pause he said, “Oh, okay. Okay. Maybe? ”
“You looked it up?”
“ I...had to. ”
Hinata talked about all the new people he was meeting, all the new food he was trying, and of course how much he loved volleyball. He lit up when he talked about it, or at least she imagined he did. Over the phone, it was all about the feeling of playing. The rush he got from it, even now, even months after high school. But in his letters, he went into depth about the things he was learning. New tactics, re-evaluating the game play, and everything in between.
“ Also Oikawa was here? From Aoba Josai, remember him? ”
“Of course I remember him. Small world. What was he doing there?”
“Hanging out, I guess.”
“Uh-huh. That follows.”
“Follows what? ”
.x.
Naturally things petered out somewhere around the one-year mark. Yachi was immersed in her courses, somewhere on the brink of re-deciding her future once again, and when break rolled around, in the spring, she thought about asking him: “So...when are you coming back, again?”
She assumed it would be too expensive for him to travel back just for a few weeks, so she decided against asking at all.
“Any other familiar faces lately?” she asked him, when their conversation lulled into silence.
“Surprisingly, no,” he said, which wasn't surprising at all. “Have you seen anyone lately? ”
“From Karasuno?” she asked needlessly. “Tanaka is really good about keeping touch for some reason. He visited a couple of weeks ago.”
“ Ah, I miss Ryuu... ”
She smiled. “He misses you, too.”
“Noya?”
“He calls. So does Yamaguchi. And Shimizu, I saw her recently, too.”
“Kageyama ?”
She tapped her fingers against her knee anxiously. “No. I haven't seen him...in a while.”
“Jerk.”
She gave a shaky smile. “It's okay. He's really busy. He checks in sometimes.”
Hinata went quiet for a few moments, and she could hear the sounds of dishes being washed. The good thing was that the time zones weren't so different. Hinata was either preparing dinner, or cleaning up after dinner.
“Are you busy? I can let you – ”
“ No, I'm... Well, I wanted to tell you so that we don't run into the same problem as before ,” he said, shutting off the water. “ I'm planning on staying another year. Then I wanna... Then I'll come back. ”
Her breath hitched.
Another year.
“That... That's good. I know you're having a lot of fun.”
“It's more than that,” he protested. “I'm learning a lot, Yachi-san. I've grown so much. I think it'd be really good for me.”
She nodded, eyes wet, but she wiped them away and cleared her throat. “I think so, too, Hinata-kun. You have to do what's best for you.”
“Are you excited for another year?” he asked, maybe to change the subject.
.x.
Between classwork and projects and part-time work, she didn't really have time to dwell on much else. The weekly phone calls turned to every other week, and the letters came few and far between.
But they came. Less often, and in sporadic lengths, with random items included, but they came all the same. Sometimes photos, sometimes recipes he'd become fond of. It depended on how much time he had at any given moment.
Her birthday rolled around, and he called as he always did, but that day she also received a package. Which explained why he nervously said, “I hope it got there on time...”
In retrospect, it was pretty obvious what he meant.
She sliced the package open, which was wrapped in several layers of tape and postage, and sat on the floor of her dorm room carefully bunching up and setting aside the trash she was accumulating in the process. Inside was a sort of self-care package. Or it had to be. She couldn't make much sense of any of it.
There were several objects stuffed inside, with some half-attempt at organization.
Topping the stack were several packets of what looked like candy. She couldn't read any of the writing, so she spent some time typing in the brand names into her phone to translate to herself. Chocolate, mostly, but also gummies of some sort. Guava flavored, tamarind, strawberry. She hesitated, but unwrapped one to taste.
Her face scrunched. Very sour. Maybe an acquired taste.
She set it aside for later.
Next it appeared he sent her some perfume samples. Maybe to get past customs. She took a little time sniffing and sampling them.
Some colorful, scented candles. Some fluffy, pink slippers. A couple of cute spiral notebooks with matching pens. And at the bottom, folded carefully, was a beautiful knitted quilt. It was colorful, and exceptionally made. Maybe by hand?
She stood to unfold it to its full size, admiring it, then brought it closer to feel the fabric against her cheek.
With a start, she realized it smelled just like his soap. The very one she noticed when they hugged.
Before she could help it, she buried her face into the quilt and breathed in.
Seven more months, and he'd be home for good. Or at least for a while.
Hinata spoke about his future in terms of immediacy . He talked about coming back, sure, and all the things he'd do once he's here. But what about after that? What about the year after next? And the year after that ?
She folded the blanket across the foot of her bed with a sigh.
I just got it , she messaged him. Thank you. I love everything.
His answer was immediate: Ahh that's good! I was worried it wouldn't arrive on time!
She tucked everything away, and that night she slept under the quilt, wondering if he'd used it, too.
.x.
These last few months, it finally occurred to her that she'd been moving through her required courses with the same conviction one would their nightly skincare routine.
She had to do it, but she didn't really want to.
As of late she'd been working part-time at her mother's company, and with time she fell into a routine she was beginning to really like. She had asked her mother before how she had chosen this career path. Her mother was still so young, and was younger still when she had decided this was what she wanted to do for the rest of her life.
“I picked and I chose,” her mother said simply.
It can't be that easy. How could it be that easy?
But maybe it really was. Maybe she'd been overthinking it this whole time.
Sure, she had tons of friends that had made it these past couple of years and realized they had no idea what they were doing, so they restarted or decided to take a break or had meltdowns in the middle of the library and then decided they were overthinking it, too. And sure, she might have had a few connections to career paths that they didn't, and she tried not to overthink this, but sometimes this wasn't the blessing that it appeared to be. Sometimes people ended up in places they didn't want to be, because they wanted to make their parents happy –
All this to say, Yachi realized that she was happy going into work right now. And this might not be a forever thing, but what was?
“Sometimes you pick and you choose wrong,” her mother told her. “You're only nineteen, Hitoka, dear. You have time. It'll be okay.”
Yeah.
She had time.
.x.
Hinata greeted her with a hug. Somehow even tighter than the one he'd said goodbye with.
He squeezed her into him, and she could only squeeze back.
“ Hinata-kun ,” she mumbled, so softly it was almost a breath. Her fingers curled into the fabric of his jacket, and he smelled so different. And he was just a little taller than the last time she saw him. Her eyes welled up with tears, and she sniffled, tucking herself against his shoulder.
“Thanks for making time for me,” he said, rubbing at her back.
“Are you kidding?” she asked, as they pulled away from one another.
Hinata had arrived the other day. She was surprised he hadn't decided to spend more time with his family. But of course, he wasn't planning on going anywhere anytime soon.
He assured as much now, taking her hands and squeezing them gently.
“You've basically been my paypal this entire time, you know?”
“It's pen pal, Hinata-kun,” she laughed.
His face reddened. “Oh.”
“Are you hungry?” she asked, squeezing his hands to regain his attention.
“I'm always hungry.”
There was a good spot within walking distance. She'd met him at the subway station, carrying a little gift bag with all of his favorite snacks.
“Oh, I could kiss you right now,” he'd said to her, as he rifled through the contents of the bag.
She blushed happily. “The snacks you sent me were pretty good.”
“Nothing compares to these bad boys,” he said, popping open some bag eagerly.
The waitress greeted them with a brilliant smile. “Just two tonight?” she asked as the door swung shut behind them.
“Yup,” he chirped.
She led them to a cozy booth. “Take your time, alright?”
“So what's the plan now?” she asked him, scanning the menu.
“I'm thinking combo number two,” he murmured, holding the menu up to his face. “Seems like the best bang for your buck.”
She laughed again. “No, I meant for your future.”
He rubbed his forehead, laughing. “I must still have jet lag.”
“No, to be fair, I keep accidentally not giving you context.” She looked at her own menu. “Combo number two sounds good to me, too.”
The waitress returned to take their orders, beaming at them as she made small talk. “Are we out on a date of some kind?”
“Sort of,” Hinata replied, without seeming to think about it.
The waitress clapped her hands. “ Wonderful . You two make such a cute pair. Would you like to start with an appetizer?”
Yachi stared at Hinata, bewildered.
“Do you like wings, Yachi-san?” he asked, still looking at the menu. Unbothered. Maybe even unaware.
She stuttered, struggling to ignore the weird feeling starting up in her middle all of a sudden. “Um – yeah – I. I'll eat wings.”
“Buffalo?”
“S – Sure...”
“Excellent,” the waitress smiled, glancing between them with an expression that made Yachi's heart rate pick up. “Be right back.”
“ Hinata! ” she hissed at him, as he gulped down the glass of water the waitress had placed before him.
“What?” he asked, wiping his mouth with his wrist.
“You just told her we're on a date!”
“Did I?” He took up the glass again to drink some more. “I mean, a hang out is kind of like a date. But between friends.”
“That's not accurate at all! A date is a date.”
“I mean, I guess it's dependent on what you mean.”
“A date is...” she trailed off anxiously. “Like, a nice dinner and a movie. Holding hands and stuff.”
“Sometimes we hold hands.”
“When you're leading me around places, yeah,” she laughed, rolling her eyes.
“Same difference, no?”
“Absolutely not.”
The waitress placed the basket of wings between them. “Need a refill there?”
“Thank you.” He leaned back to let her pour from the pitcher. It wasn't until the waitress disappeared again that he said, “I guess I wasn't really paying attention. But it doesn't matter if she thinks that, right? Two people out to dinner, and you look pretty. And I'm wearing a new jacket.”
She looked down at herself. She was wearing a cozy knitted long-sleeve and a pair of comfy jeans.
Pretty?
He twisted to look behind him. More customers were beginning to trickle in, filling the space with noise.
“It's a popular spot,” Yachi said, when he straightened.
He took a wing. “Do you come here a lot?”
“No,” she admitted, folding her arms on the table. “I... I've been here a couple of times. The first time I actually was on a date.”
He started, almost dropping the wing. “Really?”
“Once. The first and only...so far.”
“Well, this is the second,” he said plainly, looking rather serious.
“Uh-huh,” she said, smiling again. “Right. Well, on this date, he ordered wings, too.”
He placed the half-eaten wing back into the basket. “I'll send these back.”
“No, you won't,” she scoffed, still smiling.
He lifted his hand, whose fingers were still covered in buffalo sauce, and opened his mouth to call the waitress over.
Yachi stole forward and grabbed at his hand. “Hinata-kun! Stop that!”
“When did this date happen?” he asked, grinning now. “Where did you meet the guy?”
“He was a mutual friend. Or a friend of a friend. They set us up because we were in the same major, and he happened to be about the same age, I guess. He was nice,” she sighed. “This was... I don't know, a little over a year ago?”
“You never told me?” he asked, folding his arms. He almost looked hurt.
“It wasn't worth telling,” she said. “He brought me here, and the food was good. But he just wasn't...it. We had nothing in common aside from the courses we were taking and maybe a couple of shows we liked. He talked over me. He definitely thought he was smarter than me...”
“Smarter than you? ” His chin landed in his palm, staring openly now. “No one's smarter than you, Yachi-san.”
“I don't know about that...”
“Here we go!” The waitress appeared, balancing their orders on a tray. “Hope you're hungry!”
Hinata dug in immediately, almost as soon as the plate was in front of him. His appetite had always been impressive. She wondered suddenly if he'd gone for a jog this morning.
She chewed mechanically, staring down at her plate.
It didn't take very long before he asked, “You okay?”
“I'm okay,” she said, tapping the ends of her chopsticks against the plate. “Well. Actually, I wanted to ask you something... I've been wanting to ask for a very long time. Ever since you left.”
“What?”
“How did you know that you wanted to go to Brazil?” She leaned forward, and so did he. Watching her with rapt attention. “That's such a huge step. You left everything and everyone behind on a feeling, right? That this would be the right move for you?”
“More or less...” he murmured, wiping his mouth with a napkin.
“It was...on a whim, right?”
Hinata shrugged, deciding if that was the right word. “I guess you can say that. I did a little research leading up to graduation. And I asked some of the older guys. You know, like, what they would have done if they were in my shoes. It led me to Brazil, and I didn't have anything to lose.”
“But that was it?”
“I guess it's hard to explain,” he muttered, rubbing at the back of his neck. “Yachi – you. You're so smart, and so talented. And driven, and organized. You have so much going for you, and your hobbies aren't...”
“All-consuming?” she filled in.
“Yeah. They don't consume you.”
She smiled.
“I – I needed to do this, Yachi-san. I had no choice. I had to get better. I had to. It would have killed me if I hadn't even tried.”
Yachi thought maybe she wouldn't understand. She had hobbies, of course.
None she would leave the country for, though.
“Weren't you scared?” she asked.
“Yeah, I was pretty scared,” he said. “But that's usually my sign that it's a good idea, you know?”
“Oh, Hinata-kun,” she said, barely stifling her laughter. “That's so bad.”
He laughed into his bite of food. “Yeah, probably.”
.x.
He carried her leftovers on the way back to the station, and as he did, he joked, “Do you have time for a movie? We can make it a proper date.”
“I definitely do not,” she said. “But neither do you. You look tired.”
“I'm never tired.”
He probably wasn't lying.
“Maybe next time,” she sighed.
Because there would be a next time. He promised he wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon and Hinata, she’s learned, always kept his promises.
Can I request a fanfic for Akaashi and Yukie ( manager ) ? I think they'll make a real cute ship! *^*
I want you to know that I did in fact spend 1.5 yrs writing this. I almost gave up, but damnit, I had to try. Pls enjoy:
It happened somewhat suddenly. Heliked to think he caught on pretty quickly, if not immediately. Oneweek Yukie was paying him as little mind as the next, and the nextshe was giving him sidelong looks. Watching him just a little morecarefully than before. He didn’t automatically assume anything.Lately, Yukie had been putting a little more effort into their club,seemingly because it had finally occurred to her that this was herlast year with them. He couldn’t think of any other reason.
She then she began to linger afterpractice. Taking her time cleaning up, idly exchanging politeconversation.
Nothing of true substance, really. Sheasked about his studies often, and his plans for university. Thingsthey may have shared before, during more casual chitchat.
Something about this didn’t feelparticularly casual to him, for some reason.
A lot of the time, Bokuto was withthem, ever eager to have anyone’s attention. He had a talent ofmoving along the conversation naturally, so at some point Akaashibegan to assume that, actually, Yukie just wanted to be around Bokutomore. This took some pressure off for a few days, and it seemed to betrue at first. Their banter was so easy, there was never any stumbleor hesitation. He’d rarely seen this side of her so it wasexceptionally obvious to him that Yukie could only be attracted toit.
But then the rare occasion occurredthat Bokuto was out sick for a couple of days, and Yukie continued tohang around him. Striking up conversation with him whenever theopportunity presented itself, and even going so far as poking fun athim – all as if Bokuto was still there. Or, more like, it nevermatter whether or not he had been to begin with.
Akaashi never expressed any sort ofdisinclination toward her, but more and more he found himselfconfused by it.
When Bokuto returned, Yukie playfullysaid, “Back so soon? We were having so much fun without you.”
“Knowing Akaashi,” he joked back,taking it exceptionally well as always, “I don’t doubt it.”
He wasn’t sure if he was being teased.At this point, he didn’t know much of anything anymore.
It wasn’t as if any of this wasunwelcome. He’d always liked Yukie on some level. She had a reallymellow personality that he’d always quite favored. A steady gaze, aslow and certain smile. The kind of presence that put one at ease. Heheld a similar kind of affection he could begrudgingly admit he heldfor Bokuto, for her.
But at one point or another, he had towonder at her intentions. If she simply wanted to be friends, shewould have expressed more interest in hanging out with them duringnon-extracurricular activities. He started to suggest it to Bokuto,who was more than happy to suggest it in turn to Yukie. But there wasalways an excuse as to why she couldn’t. And in the hallways when hespotted her, despite her always offering a smile and a nod, she nevercrossed over to talk. Not even to say hello.
He tried not to overthink it.
But then something weird happened, andAkaashi couldn’t properly internalize it.
In the middle of practice, his heartpounding so hard he felt it in his temples, wiping the sweat from hisupper lip – glancing, thoughtlessly, and catching her watchful gazefrom across the court. Her expression steady as ever.
It was an off day for him. Somewherebetween a stressful exam and a couple sleepless nights, he foundhimself struggling to concentrate during much of the school day orpractice. Mistake after mistake, and his punishment was to clean upafterwards. He was unhooking the net when he heard her, stepping outfrom the equipment room with a cart to collect the balls. They werethe only two left.
“Shirofuku-san?” he said, to whichshe smiled languidly. “What are you still doing here?”
“This is every night for me,” shesaid, coaxing the cart over to him. She took the other end of the netwith a hum. “You boys forget I’m your manager. I work, too.”
In all honesty, this was the firsttime in a long while he’d been asked to clean the gym afterward. Hadshe been assisting him back then, too? He took the bundled up netinto his arms. “No, of course not.”
“You seemed in a daze out there,”she commented, lifting her brows. “Are you doing okay?”
He found himself staring a littlelonger than usual, mulling over his response, and her smile onlywidened. Gently creasing the corners of her eyes.
“You seem tired, Akaashi.”
“I am,” he finally said, with asigh. “Very tired.”
He folded the net as she collected theballs, and together they put away the equipment and locked up for thenight. Their teacher waited, finishing up paperwork, and on his wayto the changing room she said, “Meet me at the front gate.”
He paused to look at her.
She shrugged at him as she walkedbackward, offering that same easy smile she always had beforespinning on her heel. “Walk me home.”
He changed in record time, mindful ofhers. By the entrance was a streetlight. She waited in its pool ofwarm yellow light, hugging her bag to her chest. She’d changed backinto her uniform, too, somehow more quickly than him. She fiddledwith the ends of her hair, pensive, but straightened when she foundhis gaze.
She beckoned him over. “Hungry? Iknow this place close by if you’re up for it.”
He hesitated, mostly out of surprise.
“Is that a no?” she asked, stillsmiling.
“No,” he said quickly. “I amhungry.”
The edges of her eyes creased, andthen she reached out to take his hand. Tugging him along behind her.“It’s on the corner. You’ll love it.”
Akaashi wasn’t sure how to respond,preoccupied by the way her fingers curled around his. She was swayingtheir joined hands, and when he matched her pace he noted a coupleacross the street – holding hands just as they were. He looked awayquickly. “I’m up for anything.”
She laughed a little, which feltoff-key to him. “I’ll pay,” she said flippantly, and then shothim a blithe look. “This time.”
“This time?”
“This time.”
The place on the corner was a simpleburger joint. One of those mom and pop shops. She found them a boothafter placing their orders, working through a shake as he took daintysips of his water.
He wasn’t sure what was more strangeto him, about this situation. He had never hung out with her outsideof school, except when it related to the club. He knew Bokuto had, afair number of times. But he could never consider his associationwith Yukie anywhere near the same level as hers with Bokuto. Theywere a mutable pair, so well-matched, he thought, it was hard todefine them sometimes.
Akaashi thought back to a previousconversations he’d observed, or had been involved in one way oranother, and felt a strange pang. He couldn’t pinpoint the emotion –whether envy or jealousy or something else – but all he could thinkabout was the way they looked at one another. Bokuto, as everinvolved as he always was, cracking into the biggest grin around her.And Yukie, with an affectionately exasperated look in her eyes,matching him beat for beat. Did it sometimes feel as if he wereintruding?
Did he sometimes think to himself thathe wished he had that sort of bond with someone?
When he found her eyes, she looked asif she somehow knew what he was thinking. “You’re over-analyzingeverything, Akaashi-kun,” she murmured softly. “I figured youneeded a pick-me-up. Just enjoy the moment.”
“Where do you live?” he askedsuddenly.
She jabbed a thumb over her shoulder.
The opposite direction from him.“Thank you for this,” he said instead. “You really didn’t haveto.”
“Hey, what’s better than free food,huh?”
As always, he was impressed by howquickly she got her own food down. She spent the rest of the mealpicking away at his fries, making small talk.
Some it was stuff they’ve spoken aboutbefore, some not. She, like Bokuto, had a talent for keepingconversation flowing. Never settling for a single topic for too long.Never running the risk of it going dry. When he struck her interest,her eyes would slide over his face smoothly, her head tiltingslightly.
He found himself enjoying having herundivided attention. It wasn’t very often that it happened in allhonesty.
As they began their walk to herneighborhood, she bumped her shoulder against him and asked, moregently, “What’s been bothering you today?”
It wasn’t anything simple enough forthis conversation, he thought. Exams were always the easiestexplanation – one which everyone accepted quickly enough – but hedidn’t think it would satisfy her. She watched him carefully, asalways. Her slow and certain gaze bearing into him in such a way, allhe could do was sigh and say, “I’m just…somewhat stressed outabout the future. I’m thinking of getting a part time job. I’mnot…completely sure where I’ll be going for college, so I just wantto have some experience for when I actually have to start beingindependent. You know, in case I have to move out somewhere.”
“I see,” she said evenly,prompting him further wordlessly.
“I… I’ve obviously thought aboutthis before, but it’s just weird having it play out before me likethis. It came faster than I thought.”
“You’re a year away fromgraduating,” she reminded him. “You have time to think about it.”
“I’m not sure,” he saiddoubtfully, staring ahead of them. “Watching you – andBokuto-san, of course – made me realize it’s closer than it seems.You know, he’s not really making any real plans, and he should be. Hereally should.”
“He’s Kou,” she waved off with asmile. “Don’t worry about him. He’ll figure something out.”
“I can’t helpworrying, Shirofuku-san,” Akaashi stressed to her, looking at heras they walked. “This is his last year. And then it’ll be mylast year – ”
“Jeez,”she said. She skipped forward a step, and then swung in front of himsuddenly, her hand taking a hold of his arm firmly.
Hecame to a quick, skittering halt. “Shiro – ”
Herother hand slowly came up to take his other arm, holding him still.
Hefroze entirely.
Yukiecrowded in on him, which felt ridiculous enough as it was. She was ahead or so shorter than him. He was forced to tuck his chin in tomaintain any sort of eye contact. He quickly turned his face away,avoiding this. All this, and she still said, “Look at me, Keiji.”
“I– ” he hesitated, surprised. She’d never used his given namebefore. He did as she said.
“You’reallowed to enjoy yourself,” she said slowly. “Stop stressingyourself out over things that haven’t happened yet.”
Heswallowed hard. “Oh… Okay.”
“Startstressing out next year,” she joked, stepping back. But not lettinggo entirely.
Hefelt himself laugh a little, and was surprised at himself when hesaid, “But you won’t be here next year. What if I have anotherbreakdown?”
Shelaughed with him. “I’ll always be here for you,” she said simply,and unfortunately left it at that. She released his arms andcontinued onward toward her neighborhood.
Hefollowed soon after, wrung with disbelief.
“Andabout Kou,” she said idly. “I know he doesn’t look like itsometimes, but he knows what he’s doing. He’s had a plan since I methim. Doesn’t look to me like he’s planning on changing course anytime soon. Don’t you worry about him. Not when it comes to this.”
Akaashistared ahead, hands stuffed into his pockets. Thinking. Alwaysthinking. He looked down again as he finally said, “Shirofuku-san…”
“Hm?”
Toolate now to not ask. “Do you…like Bokuto-san?”
“Well,sure,” she said, easily. With no thought behind it.
Hescratched behind his ear. “Oh.”
“Why?”she asked around a chuckle. “Are you planning on overthrowing himas captain and need my input?”
Whenhe didn’t answer, she stopped to look at him.
Andwhen he still didn’t say anything, she cocked her head. “Are youasking if I like, like Kou?”
Heavoided her look. “No?”
“Kouhas the emotional availability of a log,”she deadpanned, hands on her hips. “I think it would be a very,very long time beforeanyone can catch his eye.”
Akaashi’sbrow furrowed. “So –”
“No,”she said, exasperated. And then feigned rethinking it. “I mean. Ifhe was into the idea, I wouldn’t be against it.”
Akaashismoothed a hand over the back of his head, nodding. “Okay – ”
“I’mkidding,” she cut him off. “Why do you care?”
Thishe couldn’t explain. He reached for his tie, fixing it needlessly.“I… I noticed how you two act together and thought maybe therewas something there.”
“No,”she said smoothly, unfazed.
Hesighed. “It was just a question.”
Theycontinued on in mostly silence, arriving at her home much morequickly than he had expected. “This is me,” she said, turning tohim expectantly. “Thanks for walking me home.”
“Thanksfor…the food,” he said, unceremoniously.
Shesmiled. “It’s nothing.”
Thenthey just stood there, wordless. After a few moments, she bid himgoodnight and turned to enter through the front gate of her home,when he suddenly said, “I – I would like to hang out againsometime.”
Shelooked at him, smiling curiously. “Would you?”
Akaashibowed his head, embarrassed at her reaction. Was it so obvious toher? “I… I like our conversations. I would like to be friends. Ifthat’s okay.”
Hereyes flickered as she laughed. “I like our talks, too.”
Therewas a moment in which she was just smiling at him, almost softly.Almost fondly. It made his throat feel dry.
“I’dlike to hang out more often, too,” she finally said. “How aboutthis weekend?”
“Oh…Yeah, okay,” he said, astounded.
“Yourtreat this time,” she said quickly, pointing at him sharply.
“Oh,yeah. My treat.”
Shesmiled again. “It’s a date then.”
“Yea– Oh, what?”
“It’sa date,” she affirmed, and his mouth snapped shut. “Goodnight,Keiji.”
“G…Goodnight,” he mumbled as she slipped into her home. He stood a fewmoments longer, alone, absorbing what she’d said. And then he wasjogging home, struggling with how to feel about it. He considered theentirety of tonight, reevaluating himself and everything that hadbeen said.
Andfinally, finally, settled on the thought that maybe the reason thatYukie had been spending so much time around him, specifically, wasbecause she actually liked him.
Hefelt his chest twist with anxiety at the thought.
But,truth be told, he felt a little relieved, too.
Whenhe got home that night, it was to a text from Bokuto saying: Didyou really ask Yukie if she had a crush on me? Are you blind??
