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bish-plz-haha · 4 months

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The Shadows (Kagehina fic)

Excerpt of a little Kagehina fanfic I've started.

I've only just started it—I haven't even posted it yet, but let me know what you think. Please. Dunno if I should post it or not.

It's inspired by Sunshine Harbour on AO3.

Chapter One: Anxiety (excerpt)

It started with talking in his sleep. Kageyama could deal with that; that was normal. It was easy. He could just roll over and use his pillow or the blankets to cover his ears and fall back into a mindless slumber. In the morning, he'd ask his fiancé if he remembered what he was dreaming about. And his answer was always the same; "No, I don't. Why?" And Kageyama would shake his head, mumbling that he was just wondering. And Hinata would whine about it.

"Really," Kageyama would say with a sigh, "it's nothing. You were just talking in your sleep. I didn't understand anything, though." He would stare at his fiancé, and fierce amber eyes would stare right back, challenging him. But there was no challenge there; he didn't hear anything except a mumbled mess of words barely audible.

Eventually, Hinata would give in. Or, rather, he would have to give up as his phone that usually sat plugged into the wall on the bar would ring out with his alarm, signifying he had to leave for work. "We'll continue with this when I get home." He would grumble in defeat as he would grab his bag, kiss his fiancé's cheek, and rush out the door.

They never did continue it when he got home: both too exhausted to argue. Instead, they'd cuddle on the couch and watch some mindless TV show or movie. Or, on the odd occasion, they'd get home in a good mood, things would escalate, and they'd have sex. It was a rare occasion that both of them were up for it. Though they had a system that worked for them. And they didn't push the other to do something they didn't want to.

Eventually, though, Hinata's sleep talking turned into nightmares for Kageyama. Hinata would sit up in bed, eyes wide open, staring at the wall and mumble, "They make death swift." And there were times he would grab hold of Kageyama, as tight as he could and shout, "I didn't mean to kill them! They made me do it." There was so much that Kageyama suggested Hinata go see someone one morning.

"Why?" Hinata asked, cocking his head. His eyes were always intense, but Kageyama was used to that. It was when he was curious or mad or any other visceral emotions when his stare really crawled under Kageyama's skin. "Sleep talking sometimes is normal, isn't it?" He'd ask, a mischievous grin taking hold of his lips. "You do it! One time, you woke me up to talk about your old high schools basketball club, only to tell me you didn't know a single thing about basketball. You yelled at me for talking about your most hated sport, wondered why we were talking about going swimming in the dead of winter, asked for some ice cream then grumbled about being a human being and went back to sleep." Hinata was in fits as he recalled Kageyama's sleep talking. "That's my favourite one." He sighed, content as he gathered himself.

Kageyama couldn't argue with that. People did talk in their sleep sometimes, even he it seemed. But the longer Kageyama waited for the phase to pass, the worse it got.

One night really scared Kageyama; Hinata bolted upright in bed, quickly clambering to get out from under the blankets. He stood in a fighting stance. Kageyama didn't see it at first, but when he turned on the bedside lamp, it shimmered in the light. "I won't go back. I'm done with that. Leave me alone." His eyes were bouncing all over the room, as if watching a ricocheting bullet, waiting for it to come hutling towards him. "I won't! Leave me the fuck alone!" He finally shouted. He crossed his arms and ducked his head, as if he was expecting an impact from something that wasn't there. The switchblade that normally sat on the bedside table, of which he had grabbed between getting out of bed and now, sliced his arm open from elbow to wrist. Kageyama scrambled for the first aid kit, scared to get near the man but wanting to help his fiancé all the same. "Get away from me, you bastard." He moved the knife in his grip, blade now facing outward instead of an underhand grip.

Kageyama stepped back. He watched as blood soaked into his white vneck shirt, dripping down his arm onto his shorts as well. This was not ideal. This was something from a horror film. And Kageyama was frozen in place, crouching behind the bed for cover. He waited for this episode to be over, for what seemed like hours, until Hinata finally just collpased back into bed, falling back asleep. Blood splattered the floor where he was stood, a small puddle forming. The red-haired man was a heavy sleeper—had to be if he did shit like that—so Kageyama grabbing his arm and patching him up had no effect on his sleep whatsoever.

But Kageyama?

He was scared shitless.

After wiping the blood away and dabbing at the wound with cotton balls drenched in rubbing alcohol, he wrapped up his arm. He placed the kit back under their bed, grabbed some spare sheets and blankets from the cupboard, and made up the couch. Which is where Hinata found him the next morning.

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artemisia--hq · 1 year

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Coffee’s on Me

Hinata Shouyou x Kageyama Tobio

Rated E, 21.6k

College/University AU, Jock/Med Student

First Meetings, Developing Feelings

Getting Together, Eventual Smut

“What’s that supposed to mean?!”

At the raise in Tobio’s voice, Hinata returns his glare and the bite in his next words. “I said nothing! I’m just saying you’re way prettier than I imagined you’d be!”

Tobio blinks.

Oh.

Okay.

What the fuck?

You know how their love story's going. Now you get to learn how it started.

Read on AO3

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyuu!! fanfiction #haikyuu!! fanfic #kagehina fanfic #kagehina #hinata shouyou #kageyama tobio #hinakage #haikyuu fanfic #my fanfic #artemisia writes #kagehina smut #hinakage smut

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fawn-eyed-girl · 7 months

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It Was You the Whole Time: A BkAk birthday story for @tenma-udai

Happiest of birthdays to my friend, @tenma-udai!! My dear, you always feed BkAk nation so well, and so it's my pleasure to offer you a not-so-little, Rated very-E!, birthday gift. I really hope you enjoy, and it features gorgeous comm'd art from @kalcia, but if you want to see it, you will have to venture over to the other place to do so 🔥

Story Summary:

When Atsumu finds Bokuto/Reader fanfiction, he can’t help but read it. What he finds, though, shocks him so much he has to have Bokuto read it, too!

When Bokuto reads the fanfiction, he’s shocked, yes… But for a completely different reason.

Because when Bokuto reads the stories, all he’s reminded of… Is Akaashi.

Sneak peek below the cut; I hope that you all enjoy!

Bokuto’s face immediately took on a dreamy look. “Yeah,” he said softly, a smile on his face so silly it made Atsumu gag, “he’s got the prettiest blue eyes. And his ears! They’re like elf ears, and the tips get red when he’s nervous. And his hair is so soft and curly. And his hands…”

“Yeah, yeah, we get it, they’re great, he’s perfect,” Atsumu interrupted. Honestly, if these two weren’t fucking already…

Bokuto scoffed, and crossed his arms over his chest.

“If you’re gonna be so mean,” Bokuto started.

“No, Bokkun,” Atsumu said, “not mean.” He shoved the tablet screen in Bokuto’s face. “Look.”

Bokuto narrowed his eyes and stared at it, hard. “The Idle, Fleeting Thought,” he read aloud. His eyes went from narrow to wide as he took in the tags. “Bokuto slash Reader,” he continued. He looked up at Atsumu, gold eyes blinking in confusion. “What does that mean?” he asked.

“It means that, in this story, you’ve been paired with the reader of the fic,” Atsumu explained.

“What???” Bokuto’s mouth dropped open. “But…Tsum-Tsum I…how does that even work?”

Atsumu couldn’t help it; he reached over and ruffled Bokuto’s hair. It was gelled, but the tips were soft and Atsumu always did like to muss it up, if only to tease Bokuto. But today Bokuto didn’t even care that his hair was now falling over his forehead, the strands brushing across his forehead. “Just…I want you to read this,” he said carefully. The realization that Bokuto might not read hadn’t been something he’d taken into account; Atsumu was so convinced that he would, just like Atsumu had, that he hadn’t even stopped to consider…

“But Tsum-Tsum," Bokuto wailed. “I don’t wanna be paired with anyone in a story! I don’t wanna read about…”

“Just…” Atsumu took a deep breath. “I want you to read this, for me,” he said, “and I want to know if the Reader character reminds you of anyone.”

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu!! fanfic #bokuaka #bokuto x akaashi #bokuto koutarou #akaashi keiji #miya atsumu is a menace #bokuto reads fanfic #happy birthday gabs

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vannahfanfics · 9 months

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Vitamin Sea

Word Count: 2,380

Fluff, Established Relationship, Romance, Beach Day

Summary: Rintarō loves Motoya, and it shows in the little things—like going to a beach retreat when he's really not a fan.

Howdy, everyone! Here is the story I wrote for the SunaKomo Summer Exchange! Enjoy the shenanigans!

Rintarō didn’t want to come to the beach today.

Don’t get him wrong. It wasn’t that he disliked the beach, but he couldn’t necessarily say that he liked it, either. It just seemed to be more trouble than it was worth; one could deal with any number of unpleasant things: crowded areas, sunburn, sand everywhere, salt in the eyes, jellyfish stings… the list could go on. It certainly wasn’t Rintarō’s idea of a weekend getaway, but their captain hadn’t exactly been accepting ideas when he organized this retreat to celebrate EJP Raijin’s victory at this year’s division championship. That being said, Rintarō wasn’t going to refuse some much-needed post-championship R&R, even if the venue left much to be desired for him.

Besides, Motoya would annoy the hell out of him if he bailed, and that was definitely more trouble than it was worth. Rintarō would take the beach over his boyfriend’s petulant whines about how much he missed him being there. He’d probably say something goofy like, “Come on! Everyone needs a good dose of Vitamin Sea every once in a while! ” Plus, if Rintarō were honest… he would’ve missed Motoya, too. Rintarō was a homebody, especially compared to Motoya, but their shared apartment simply felt empty when Motoya went out while he stayed behind.

So, here Rintarō was, lounging in a beach chair under the cool shade of an umbrella while his boyfriend and their teammates frolicked in the surf and sand like a bunch of giddy elementary schoolers. Despite the itchiness of the sand clinging to his legs and the stifling heat of the summer sun, Rintarō had a serene smile on his face while watching them; they seemed to be enjoying themselves, especially his boyfriend, which was all he needed to be content. With a languid sigh, he stretched out in the beach chair and sipped on a can of fruit juice while he watched the goings-on.

Motoya and Tatsuki were embroiled in a rather intense splash fight in the shallows. The both of them were soaked through, hair slicked to their heads and saltwater running in rivulets down their chests as they heaved panting breaths. However, based on the determined grins plastered on their flushed faces, neither had any intentions of yielding to the other anytime soon. Like lions entangled in a desperate war for dominance, they circled one another, matching each other’s steps and not giving an inch. Suddenly, Tatsuki charged at Motoya, kicking up a spray of water to obscure his vision. Motoya shielded his face, having read the attack—but he didn’t predict that Tatsuki would crash through the wall of water and tackle him like a linebacker.

“Wahhhhhhhhh!” Motoya wailed as he and Tatsuki both plunged into the surf.

They wrestled around a bit, kicking up sand and sending salt spray into the air as their limbs flailed, but Motoya was no match for the bigger and broader Tatsuki. Rintarō chuckled to himself as Motoya’s squeaks of “I give, I give!” floated up to his comfy perch just above the waterline. A few seconds later, Motoya dragged himself out of the water and collapsed in a sodden, defeated heap at Rintarō’s feet.

“Maaaaaaan! I can’t believe I lost! I was sure I had him!” he whined, angrily wiggling about in the sand like a writhing eel. Just as quickly as he had flopped to the ground in humiliated defeat, he yanked himself back up into a sitting position to glare at Tatsuki, who was wading out of the surf. “Oi! Don’t rest on your laurels yet!” he shouted at his teammate. “I want a rematch!”

Tatsuki waved a hand dismissively at him, to which Motoya responded by angrily flipping him off with both hands.

“What are you, a toddler? Take your defeat with dignity,” Rintarō chortled as he leaned sideways a little to avoid the clumps of sand and water droplets that Motoya was flinging everywhere with his tantrum. It brought him close to the cooler, so he flipped it open and retrieved a bottle of water to offer his grumpy boyfriend. Motoya took it with a mutter of “Thanks,” then grumbled his indignance into the lip of the bottle in-between large gulps of the cold liquid. Meanwhile, Rintarō fished around in the half-melted ice for another bottle of fruit juice; while doing so, he took notice of the plump watermelon sitting within.

Rintarō picked it up only to inspect it, but when Motoya caught sight of it, his eyes lit up.

“Oooh, great idea, Rintarō!” he cried delightedly. Holding the empty bottle between his teeth, he crawled on all fours over to the cooler to eye the watermelon gleefully. “We shou’d c’ack dis ba’ boy o’en!” he asserted around the bottle, which bobbed up and down in his mouth as he spoke.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” Rintarō huffed with a roll of his eyes, then snatched the bottle out of his teeth. “Now, what?”

“I said, ‘We should crack this bad boy open!’” Motoya repeated, too excited about the watermelon to mind Rintarō yanking the bottle through his teeth. “Smashing watermelons is the best!”

“I’ve always found it messy.” Rintarō frowned and scrunched up his nose in distaste. After all, half the watermelon ended up splattered all over the place! It seemed more of a waste than anything, at least to him. But, Motoya looked positively giddy at the prospect, so Rintarō just sighed. “If that’s what you’d like to do, though—”

“Ooh, ooh, ooh, I’ve got an even better idea!” Motoya interrupted him with a squeal and promptly snatched the watermelon from his hands. He ignored Rintarō’s cry of indignance and instead scrambled to his feet—showering Rintarō head-to-toe in sand in the process—and dashed back to the shoreline, where the rest of the team was getting quite heated over a hermit crab race. He brandished the watermelon over his head and yelled, “Guys! Let’s play volleyball with the watermelon until it smashes! I call it… volley-melon!”

“‘Volley-melon’?” Rintarō scoffed in amusement as he walked past him to go stand in the sloshing water. He paused to wash off all the sand that he had kicked onto him, then straightened up and regarded his goofy boyfriend with a hand on his hip and a raised eyebrow. “You really think that’s gonna work?”

“We don’t know until we try!” Motoya snickered, holding the melon atop his head as he danced from one foot to the other. He then turned to their teammates. “Come on! It’ll be fun! We’ll smash it open and chow down!” His grin turned devilish as he looked straight at Tatsuki. “And then, I can whoop your butt in our rematch!”

“Forget it; you’ve lost three times already,” Tatsuki snorted in laughter, then climbed to his feet. “I could go for some watermelon, though.”

The others chimed in agreement, and they all began to make their way to the volleyball net next to their beach encampment. Motoya followed after them, pumping the watermelon in the air above his head with excited chants of “Volley-melon, volley-melon~!” However, he stopped mid-step and then whirled on his heel to regard Rintarō—who was trekking back to his shady sanctuary—with big, curious eyes.

“Aren’t ya gonna come play with us, Rintarō?”

“I didn’t exactly plan on it,” he answered with a slight frown. “I was just going to watch. Watermelon bits on top of all the sand getting kicked up? I’ll pass.”

“Come onnnnnnn!” Motoya wheedled and wiggled the watermelon emphatically above his head. “It’ll be fun! How can volleyball not be fun?” When Rintarō just gave him an unimpressed stare, Motoya fluttered his lashes and slapped on his best puppy-dog eyes with a trill of, “Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeease, Rintarō?”

Damn it all, that golden retriever of a man had Rintarō wrapped around his little finger. There was simply no way that he could refuse. He could never resist those big brown puppy-dog eyes.

“All right, all right, I’ll play,” Rintarō conceded and started for the volleyball court, to which Motoya responded with a delighted cheer. While Rintarō proceeded at a leisurely pace, Motoya sprinted for the court, wobbling left and right as the heavy watermelon he still held aloft disrupted his balance. Rintarō shook his head at his boyfriend’s silly delight, then called after him, “Are you sure this is gonna work?”

“Well, the watermelon’ll be smashed either way, right?” came Motoya’s snickered response. “So what’s the harm in trying to do it a fun way?”

Rintarō couldn’t argue with that, so he took his place on the court without further comment. Motoya did one more spinning dance while brandishing the watermelon above his head, then held it to his chest and pointed at the opposite side of the court with a broad grin.

“Are we ready to play some volley-melon?” he cheered. “The rules of volleyball apply, ‘cept for the need for three volleys, ‘cuz I don’t think the watermelon can take that many whacks, honestly. Just whack it back and forth over the net until it pops open! Any questions?”

“Do we have to call it volley-melon?” came their captain’s half-amused, half-exasperated reply.

“Yes!” Motoya asserted with an indignant puff of his cheeks. “It’s a melon, not a ball! Hence, volley-melon!” With that, he flung the watermelon into the air, then jumped up to smack it with the flat of his palm as hard as he could.

To be honest, Rintarō didn’t expect it to make it across the net. It was far heavier than a volleyball, after all. Much to his surprise, however, Motoya’s powerful wallop propelled the large ovoid fruit in a smooth arc across the net, albeit just so. Tatsuki surged forward to catch it before it hit the ground, instinctively trying to receive it so someone could get in a better hit. It would have worked with a real volleyball, but it was much less effective for a watermelon several times its size and weight; in reality, he just braced it on his forearms as he swung his arms in an upward arc and basically just lobbed it back over the net. It came sailing straight at Rintarō, and he braced himself to catch it against his forearms and propel it back over the net.

Well, he would have if the damn thing didn’t explode the instant it crashed into him.

“Daaaaaaaaaaayum!” Tatsuki howled as the chunks of melon flopped down into the sand—the bits that weren’t splattered all over Rintarō, anyway. “Melon couldn’t handle the Man of Steel over there!” The rest of the team responded with similar hoots and hollers of laughter, while Rintarō just tried to shake the sticky watermelon juice and globs of fruit that coated his arms. He heard the sound of someone tromping through the sand, and he glanced up to see Motoya right before he tackled him in a hug.

“Whoooo! That was awesome!” he squealed. Motoya was literally glowing with delight, which made it difficult for Rintarō to be irritated at the fact that he was covered in watermelon at the moment.

“Motoya,” Rintarō just chuckled breathily and gave his goofy boyfriend a lopsided smile, “you’re gonna get watermelon all over you.”

“S’all right.” Motoya shrugged indifferently, and his already impossibly wide smile got a little bit broader. “We can just wash off in the water, yeah?” His eyes gleamed with childish glee, and he continued with a giggle, “Wasn’t that fun?! It was only a couple volleys, but it was kinda exciting, holding your breath and wondering when it was gonna bust open, yeah?”

“Yeah, it was fun,” Rintarō admitted with another small laugh. It was a totally silly idea, and he’d ended up splattered in watermelon because of it, but Rintarō just couldn’t deny the fact that he was genuinely entertained. If he were totally honest… “I wish we had another one.”

“There’s a grocery store across the road!” Tatsuki, who had walked underneath the net to snag a piece of the watermelon, cut in with a point of his index finger toward the indicated building. “We could go buy a bunch of ‘em and see how many volleys we can get in before one breaks!”

“Now that’s what I’m talkin’ about!” Motoya cackled and, apparently having forgotten his burning rivalry with the guy, released Rintarō to exchange a complicated series of fist-bumps and handshakes with him. He dove down to retrieve a chunk of the watermelon, took several large chomps out of it in quick succession on his way back up, and then looked at Rintarō with an eager expression while watermelon juice ran from his mouth in bright pink rivers. “You comin’ with us to the store, Rintarō?”

Normally, Rintarō’s first thought would be, Looking like this? But that wasn’t his first thought. No, instead it was:

“Of course I am, silly.”

Rintarō didn’t want to come to the beach today, but he was glad he did. It ended up being more enjoyable than he’d anticipated, and even the annoying parts—sand, salt, watermelon bits—were minor inconveniences at best when he considered how much fun he was having. Besides… he’d gladly suffer every minor inconvenience possible if he’d continue to see that giddy smile on Motoya’s face, one full of so much happiness that it shone more brilliantly than even the blazing summer sun. He’d let every single one of those watermelons burst open on himself if it made Motoya laugh and smile with absolute delight. He’d do anything just to see Motoya happy because that made Rintarō happier than anything else could.

That’s what love was all about, and Rintarō was undisputably, undeniably, unequivocally in love with Motoya Komori—and in love enough to continue to play this totally absurd invention of his that was volley-melon! Seriously, they had to pick a better name. It was a lowkey badass game; why did he have to make it sound so lame?

When Motoya told him as such, he pouted around the watermelon slice that he currently had shoved in his mouth.

“I couldn’ thi’ o’ a’ythi’ be’er!” he whined around the fruit.

I can’t think of anything better, either, Rintarō just thought with a chuckle, but he wasn’t talking about the game, not at all.

Did you enjoy this oneshot? Consider requesting from me by visiting my rules, then either commenting on this story, submitting an ask, or contacting me via DM!

#sunakomo #suna x komori #komori x suna #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#suna rintarou #rintarou suna #komori motoya #motoya komori #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu fanfic #haikyuu!! fanfiction #haikyuu!! fanfic

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miminiac · 1 year

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AsaNoya , meeting the grandpa

The first time Asahi met Noya’s grandpa, he almost fainted, and the whole thing was so embarrassing, he still gets nervous to this day.

After nationals, Asahi had made the decision, with help and encouragement from daisuga, to ask Noya out––finally. Of course, making the decision to do it and actually doing it are two different things. After bumbling through incoherent sentences.

Noya walks away with a smile and a wave, while Asahi is left speechless.

On Saturday, Asahi is there right on time and he knocks on the door. He expects to see the short libero and object of his affection, but instead he is met by a short, plump, elderly man––Noya’s grandpa.

“Who are you and what do you want?” He asks

“Oh… I’m… Well… I’m looking for…”––takes a deep breath––“I’m here to pick up Nishinoya Yuu”––Noya’s grandpa gives him the eye and Asahi bows aggressively–– “uhh… if that’s alright with you, Nishinoya-san”

“So what makes you think a scaredy-cat like yourself is good enough for Yuu?”

At first Asahi isn't sure what to say. Nothing comes out of his mouth and he stands there looking like an idiot, unable to look away from the old man, who has his arms crossed, in front of him.

“Oh... well, I guess…”––eyes meet grandpa Noya’s stern gaze––“I’m totally not worthy. I may look tough, but I actually am a ball of nerves all the time and I couldn’t even truly ask Noya out, he asked me out, I am unworthy, completely and utterly unwor-”

Grandpa Noya laughs at Asahi, a small tear falling from his eye. Asahi, confused, stands there, mouth open, unable to speak.

It is at this point that Noya finally enters the scene. He reprimands his grandpa for making fun of Asahi.

Asahi isn’t sure what happened after that, but at a Nishinoya family dinner later, they tell the story of how Asahi tripped over his feet and fell into the bushes as they were leaving. Over the years, Noya’s grandpa never lets Asahi forget it.

// originally posted October 7th, 2020 on twitter

#asanoya #haikyuu!!#nishinoya yuu #azumane asahi #haikyuu #haikyuu!! fanfiction #haikyuu!! fanfic #cross posted on twitter #mimi’s threadfics

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kagehinafromtheconcrete · 1 year

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afterglow || your hand in mine (fictober day 09)

fandom: haikyuu!! pairing: kagehina fic summary: Kageyama has learned a lot of things since befriending Hinata Shouyou. Things about Hinata, things about himself. How to open up. How to be vulnerable. How to love. And Hinata? Hinata learns more about Kageyama than he ever thought he would. First-year Kagehina/Hinakage drabble collection ft. the rest of Karasuno, written for sarahenany. Slowly working through the remaining Fictober 2022 prompts! fictober day 09: "sounds like 'you' problem" by @fictober-event ch summary: After practice one day, Hinata feels insecure about his size. This isn't unusual, but Kageyama says something that makes Hinata rethink his position on the court and his place on the team.

entire drabble below. :) find the whole collection: ao3 // tumblr

Hinata narrowed his eyes. “I… I can’t tell.”

Noya brought his face closer to their hands, squinting as well. He frowned in concentration. “I can’t… either. You know what that means, right, Shouyou?”

“What?”

“It means I win.”

“Whaaa?!” Hinata jerked his hand away, giving his upperclassman an offended look. “That’s not fair, Noya-san!”

“Of course it is.” Noya’s frown vanished and was replaced a second later with a toothy grin. “I have seniority!”

“How does that make your hands bigger than mine?”

“Because seniority~” Noya sang as if it made perfect sense, even though it didn’t make any sense at all.

“Yeah, well,” Hinata began, scrambling to think. “Well, I’m still an inch taller than you!”

Noya gasped, now looking just as offended as Hinata felt. “Going for that single inch? Shouyou! You wound me.”

“Oh, knock it off, you two,” their captain said. “You’re supposed to be helping clean up! Did you forget your promise this morning?”

Noya slumped forward, and in a defeated voice: “To work with everyone to clean up for the event this evening.”

“And?”

“And that’s why practice ended early,” Hinata added with a sad sigh.

“Good.”

“You’re both short to me,” Tsukishima said suddenly.

“Yeah, yeah, that’s what I’m known for these days.” Hinata rolled his eyes as he stood up to fulfill Daichi’s orders. “Nobody’s gonna let me live it down.”

“Sounds like a ‘you’ problem.”

“Don’t you worry, Shouyou,” Noya said, standing as well after giving Tsukishima a dirty look. He clapped Hinata on the back with enthusiasm, their argument now long forgotten. “I’m not giving up on you. We’ll always suffer together!”

Across the court, Tanaka burst into laughter. Despite this, Hinata smiled at his upperclassman, trying to remain in good spirits. “Thanks, Noya-san.”

Twenty minutes later, when they’d finished cleaning up and changed out of their practice clothes, Hinata walked in step with Kageyama like he usually did when practice concluded for the day. It was oddly quiet—but then again, it wasn’t unusual for Kageyama to stay silent while Hinata babbled away. This time, though, Hinata didn’t feel like talking, either.

Unfortunately, it seemed like Kageyama noticed.

“What’s with you?”

“Hm?”

“You’re moping.”

“I’m not moping,” Hinata defended, giving him a heated look.

“Are too.”

“Hush it."

“It’s the hand thing, isn’t it?”

Hinata opened his mouth to deny it once more but then paused, irritated because Kageyama was right. And maybe that was stupid or made him seem childish, but he didn’t care—he’d always been self-conscious about his size, and while Noya didn’t seem particularly worried back in practice, it did bother Hinata, because, well…

He’d always thought it was cool that other players—Kageyama included—could hold a volleyball with one hand. Hinata hated that he couldn’t do it, himself. His hands just weren’t big enough.

“Oi,” Kageyama said when Hinata remained silent. “What’s your deal? Why does that matter?”

It took Hinata a few moments to realize that he’d stopped walking, causing Kageyama to pause in his steps as well, only a foot or so ahead of him.

“Shut up,” Hinata said sourly. He gripped his handlebars tightly, gazing at the pavement. “You wouldn’t get it.”

“Why not?”

“’Cause you’re tall! Nobody picks on you for being short. Nobody would pick on you for having tiny hands.”

Kageyama didn’t respond, at first. Hinata risked a glance up at him to see why and found that Kageyama wasn’t even looking at him—instead, his eyes were locked on Hinata’s hands.

“Your size is actually your greatest weapon,” he said eventually.

Hinata’s frown deepened. “I know. Volleyball is all about size. You don’t have to keep reminding me.”

“No, I mean, it’s your greatest weapon, personally,” Kageyama went on. “You’re short, so everyone looks at you and thinks, ‘This guy isn’t a threat.’ But you are. You’re the biggest threat we have.”

Hinata’s breath caught in his throat upon hearing the words, eyes blown wide. Something fluttered in his stomach—a sensation that he’d associated with Kageyama time and time again—and he thought, in the safety of his own mind:

How come you know exactly what to say to make me speechless?

“...oh.” A tiny, excited smile pulled at his lips. “You think that?”

“You’ve proved it, you idiot.”

“Me,” Hinata echoed, suddenly extremely giddy. “A threat. The biggest threat in Karasuno.”

“You still have a lot to learn,” Kageyama warned abruptly. "Don't let it go to your head."

“As if you have any room to say that to me.”

Hinata’s grin shifted into something less gleeful and more teasing as he spoke. Still, he couldn’t deny the joy that spread through him brought by Kageyama’s words. It was so strong that he wanted to take off on his bike with a celebratory cheer, and he was getting ready to do just that when something curled around his wrist.

Hinata froze. “Wh…”

He glanced down to check and yeah, that was Kageyama’s hand. When he lifted his gaze to give Kageyama a questioning look, Kageyama wouldn’t meet his eyes.

“S—” He stumbled, cheeks pink. “So, uh…”

“...Kageyama?”

“Don’t. Um.”

Hinata blinked, waiting.

“Just don’t let it bother you,” Kageyama finally spat out. “It’s—it’s not like it has to be a bad thing.”

It took him a few moments to realize that Kageyama was trying to reassure him. It was… almost funny how Kageyama could say something that would stick with him for a long time without even trying, but when he actually put the effort into cheering him up, he didn’t know how.

Once again, Hinata’s smile changed. Grew softer. Sweeter. His wrist felt warm underneath Kageyama’s fingers, and slowly, experimentally, he moved his hand to touch Kageyama’s.

Unlike Noya’s, Kageyama’s hand was much larger than his own. He rested his palm against Kageyama’s, lining up their fingers, and for once, the size difference didn’t bother him.

He... kind of liked it.

“Alright,” he said softly, with that same smile. Kept their hands pressed together. Found the warmth to be pleasant. He didn’t pull away.

Neither did Kageyama.

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haikyuusbookclub · 1 year

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Haikyuu!! Book Club Announcement

Hi everyone! The Haikyuu Book Club has been running for a few months now, and in this time we have noticed that a few things didn't work out exactly the way we'd planned, so we decided to make some changes!

Fear not, the book club itself will be very similar to what you've seen so far - here's what will be different from now on:

Only 1 chapter a week

Posts will be reblogged to the book club blog without comments from the mods. We will share our thoughts on your posts by reblogging them to our personal blogs

We encourage you to comment on and reblog each other's posts

We're also going to reblog posts which are not strictly book club related:

Any fan created content related to the arc we're currently reading: fics, art, edits

Meta/analysis posts that were not made for the book club but which discuss the current week's chapter or arc

So, participation in the book club isn’t just limited to analysis - you can post your favorite panel, make a bullet point list of some thoughts you had, redraw a panel, write a drabble about the chapter, etc!

If you don't feel comfortable posting your thoughts but still want to participate in the book club, feel free to send us an anonymous ask!

If you have created any content about the arc we're currently reading, feel free to use #haikyuubookclub and we will reblog it! You may also submit posts.

Send us an ask if you have any questions or message @ghostbkg <3

#haikyuubookclub #haikyuu!!#haikyuu #hq!!#haikyuu!! manga #haikyuu manga #hq!! manga #hq manga #hq!! art #hq!! meta #haikyuu!! meta #haikyuu!! fanart #haikyuu!! fanfic #haikyuu!! edit #hq!! fanart #hq!! fanfic #hq!! edit #admin post

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cosmicatta · 1 year

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Late night whispers — vol. I

☾ From: Miya Atsumu — To: Sakusa Kiyoomi

It’s 2:35 am and Atsumu can’t sleep, but he doesn’t mind. The window is open, and the soft summer breeze makes the curtains flutter. He can see the stars decorating the night sky every few seconds, when the silky fabric lets him take a peek outside. They seem to be shining brighter than ever, away from the city lights.

On the bedside table, there’s a big old astrology book he’s been browsing through recently. He wonders if he would be able to identify any of the constellations he’s read about there, but he’s not looking out the window anymore. Instead, he lets his eyes wander through the figure laying asleep beside him. Kiyoomi. His back is full of tiny moles, “much like the sky tonight”, Atsumu might think to himself. And he doesn’t even realize when he’s started playing connect the dots with them, tracing constellations. He draws Pisces with his fingers, Kiyoomi’s zodiac sign.

☾ From: Sakusa Kiyoomi — To: Miya Atsumu

The smell of the ocean is thick, dominant, though still pleasing. The streetlights illuminating the promenade are distant, but Kiyoomi sees shades of pink, purple and blue despite the prevailing darkness. Everything feels peaceful, everything feels secret and divine. While the rest of the world sleeps, the sea remains awake and alive, and he’s starting to understand why it was a good idea to come to the beach at 3:00 am.

Kiyoomi notices the sand getting in between his toes, but it’s not bothering him as much as he thought it would. In fact, it’s strangely comforting, grounding even, and he lingers on that gentle sensation as he closes his eyes, wanting to listen to the waves intently. But the sound of Atsumu’s playful laugh blasts above everything else when his hand slips into Kiyoomi’s. Their fingers intertwine, he feels Atsumu brushing his skin softly like the sand under his feet. Somehow, that feels more intimate than any kind of touch they’ve shared before. And he swears he can see the moon reflected in Atsumu’s pupils for a moment when he opens his eyes again.

Originally posted on Twitter | Please, do not copy/repost any of the text or images!

#sakuatsu #sakuatsu fanfic #miya atsumu #sakusa kiyoomi #haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyuu!! writing #irene.txt #haikyuu!! fanfic #hq #hq!!#skts #sakuatsu fic #writing

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alicemitch09writes · 2 years

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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.

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'.

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