𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐙𝐀𝐊𝐈 𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒
CHAPTER 01. OF BUCKETS, BROOMS, AND BOYS
「 In which the Inarizaki Boys' Volleyball Team sometimes test your patience and make you proud of them. 」
✩ pairing. inarizaki & f!manager!reader (platonic)
✩ genre. slice of life, fluff, humour, friendship
✩ warnings. none
✩ wc. 3.4k
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Whatever it was that you walked into, you desperately wanted to turn back and feign ignorance to the sight in front of you. But, alas, you couldn’t. After all, you were the manager—that is, the manager of a team of hooligans.
It wasn’t unusual for the twins to wreak havoc and chaos wherever they went. In fact, you were used to it. You had been cleaning up after and putting up with their antics for the decade you’d, unfortunately, known them. You had long since mastered the art of reigning in the notoriously obnoxious Miya twins.
However, you had not expected every single one of the starting members (including the usually responsible third years) to somehow wind up in a literal mess. Considering all the other comparable incidents in the past year, it was likely that they joined in some time after the twins had initiated it. One way or the other, your shoulders drooped, and you pinched the bridge of your nose anytime your eyes dared to wander over to them.
You had stepped out of the gym for just a couple of minutes, and they somehow managed to make a total mess of the gym and themselves.
You were fairly certain that Osamu and Suna had been taking down the net before you left, but that very net was smack dab in the middle of the gym; the top of the poles touched one another, forming into some crooked arrow or sad triangle.
It was safe to say that none of the team had followed your instructions: rather than clean up the gym, they transformed it into a spectacle.
Volleyballs were littered all over—there was more on the ground than before you left to your utter bafflement and confusion. Water bottles rolled around the floor as some members proceeded to kick them out of their paths. Some drenched wiping cloths clung to the edge of the benches while a few of the boys had haphazardly thrown the others over their shoulders.
Four buckets were held hostage: Akagi wore one like it was some sort of crown; Atsumu tucked another under his right arm as he swung his entire body back and used the momentum of his swing to splash the remainder of his water at Suna, who used his bucket as a sorry shield to protect himself from getting more wet; Ginjima had shoved his elbow into the last one and jabbed it towards Osamu who barely managed to dodge it.
Similarly, the brooms left for clean-up were horribly misused: Osamu thrust his at Ginjima in retaliation for the earlier attack, who deftly blocked it with his shielded elbow; Aran lifted the broom and whirled his wet cloth in the air, swinging at anyone who crossed his path and effectively splashing water on everyone including himself; Oomimi held his broom somewhat properly although he proceeded to jab the wooden tip at the starting libero; Atsumu, the selfish asshole, proudly held his upside down with the brush facing upwards as though it was a regal trident.
There’s water everywhere. How? How did they do it? You briefly wondered as your brain processed the crime scene. How’d they pull this off in the couple of minutes I left them on their own?
It was a miracle you managed to stay dry by just narrowly missing the water fight that beheld you. A couple of water droplets fell a few inches before your feet, and if you didn’t put a stop to the chaos soon, then you would definitely get caught in the crossfire.
Amidst their rambunctious laughter and ridiculous war cries, you continued to stand by the door while taking note of the gym’s state as well as the state of your teammates. They clearly hadn’t considered their inescapable cleanup session following their fun. They also haven’t noticed your presence yet, but you were going to change that in a minute—you just needed that minute to collect yourself before putting an end to their “fun.”
You sucked in a deep breath and slowly let it all out.
Yes, they were idiots, but they were your idiots. With that thought, you rolled up your sleeves, straightened your back, and took a decisive step forward to the pack of wolves you called your team before clearing your throat.
“Oi.”
They instantly froze in their tracks and robotically turned to you in unison. Had you not been as tired and annoyed as you were, you might have laughed at how stupid they appeared: sopping wet from being drenched with sweat and water, they resembled a bunch of frightened and drowned kittens. Even Oomimi and Suna, the least outwardly expressive members of the starting lineup, gaped with their eyes wide open.
Good.
You managed to maintain your composure as you stared down at the boys.
They flinched under your flat gaze and dared not to resume their shenanigans.
Immensely satisfied by how quickly they obeyed your unspoken command to stop, you were more than ready to deliver their deserved punishment.
“What the hell do ya think yer all doin’?” Your Kansai-ben was more pronounced than ever. You supposed you hadn’t entirely managed to quell your irritation as you had believed.
“W-we...” Atsumu stuttered in obvious distress, knowing well that you were pissed, to say the least, “didn’t see ya there! Uh...well, w-we thought we’d clean up!” The rest of the boys all frantically nodded along as though they expected their agreeance would help their case.
It didn’t—not when they pulled all sorts of shit on a bi-weekly basis. You had let them off lightly the past few instances, but you were reaching the end of your fuse.
“I see,” you hummed in a deceptively bright and cheery tone. “Well, tell me, what were ya tryin’ ta clean? The floor? I only see small puddles that are, as y’know, a safety hazard if not wiped down properly. Surely, you know better. The balls? You bunch never cleaned them before, so I’m surprised ya suddenly decided to. ‘Sides, they don’t look any cleaner than normal, so that can’t be it. The pinnies? Again, you lot never washed them before without my help, but you’re more than welcome to do so. Ah, and you’re wearin’ them! If ya have a new cleaning technique that’s more efficient than how I’ve been washing them all this time, please, let me know.”
You snapped your fingers as though you were struck with an epiphany, “Oh! I see now! You’re washing yourselves! Novel approach, I must say. Washing while wearing yer sweaty t-shirts and pinnies can’t be hygienic, but I applaudja for tryin’ something new. I’m amazed by just how much you hooligans can find a new way to give me more work to do, hmm?”
The twins were sweating buckets by the time you finished your tirade. They and the rest of the team knew that when you got mouthy, they were in for it.
Before they could even try to save themselves, you cut in with a placid smile and turned to Aran, “Aran-kun, take the broom off of Atsumu.”
Aran put the broom down so that it was standing upright beside him in his shaking grip.
“Akagi-san,” you addressed the libero of your team. “Please take the bucket off your head.”
He quietly did so and nervously fidgeted with the said bucket.
“Oomimi-san, the broom is not intended to be used as a makeshift sword.”
He swiftly propped it up against the wall closest to him.
“Ginjima, remove your elbow from the bucket.”
He did so.
“Rintarou, the bucket is meant to hold water, not get hit by it.”
Suna gently placed the bucket on the floor.
“Osamu, you are holding the broom wrong.”
He lowered the broom from its resting place on his shoulders.
“Atsumu, you are holding the broom and bucket wrong.”
He lowered the broom and put the bucket on the floor.
After your string of instructions, the team stared at you with bated breaths and wide eyes like you were some sort of drill sergeant at boot camp. Then, you paused for a moment to catch your breath and made sure to meet each and every one of their eyes in the order you addressed them.
“Get cleanin’.”
Without missing a beat, the team immediately got moving.
You watched them for a moment to make sure they were actually going to clean before heading for the volleyball cart in the far corner of the gym, carefully avoiding the puddles along the way. You pushed the cart to the middle of the gym, now net-free as Suna and Osamu swiftly made their way to the storage room with it in their hands, and then you walked to the benches to grab the extra untouched towels that were usually reserved for the players. It seemed they hadn’t wiped their sweat after the rather arduous practice today. They should really use the towels instead of just leaving ‘em around.
You turned to examine their cleaning once more, but the sight of the team gave you pause.
Droplets of water dripped down their hair and clothes, leaving wet trails around them. Akagi seemed to have noticed the trails as he furtively wiped down the water, only to turn around and swipe at another mini-puddle that had materialized behind him. Ginjima let out a quiet achoo! in the middle of picking up the water bottles. You even caught a few members shivering as they went about cleaning up their mess.
They’re bound to catch colds if they don’t change out of their wet clothes, you noted tiredly. Hell, they hadn’t even bothered to put on their jackets to warm their bodies after the earlier practice match. As mad as you were at the lot, it would be rather cruel to let them continue and risk catching colds.
They were the pride and joy of Inarizaki. You loved seeing them play in peak condition—that was when they shined the brightest in your eyes: focused, passionate, and having fun as they were able to pull off miraculous plays in the heat of the match.
With a defeated sigh, you called out to them, “Go take a shower. Yer gonna catch a cold at this rate.”
They all halted in their tracks and gaped at you in shock.
“Yer…gonna clean this yourself?” Aran asked bug-eyed.
“Are ya sick, [Name]?” Atsumu questioned.
Osamu studied you carefully for a couple of seconds before solemnly shaking his head, “She was fine earlier.”
“Are…are you sure, [Surname]?” Akagi bit down on his lip guiltily, knowing you had a torturous task ahead of you.
“Just go,” you insisted. “I’m serious. You’re gonna get sick.”
They hesitated, seemingly torn between warming themselves in the shower and helping you clean up after their mess.
“Just go,” you repeated in a voice that left no room for argument. “Oh, but take off your pinnies and put them on the bench.”
At that, they all took off their drenched pinnies and quietly shuffled to the showers. You caught them constantly glancing back at you as though they were uncertain if you were being serious or not.
Ignoring their gazes, you waited until every one of them left the gym before you took off your jacket and got to work. Thankfully, the net had been put back in the storage room as it was supposed to be, which left you with cleaning up the water bottles, buckets, brooms, volleyballs, and rags.
Just as you shoved the pinnies in the laundry hamper and walked back into the gym after a strenuous session of cleaning, the team finally finished with their showers. You paid them no mind and groaned as you stretched your aching back.
“Good work,” Suna told you as they all approached you.
You let out what felt like the hundredth sigh of the day, “Yeah, thanks.”
“We should be thankin’ you,” Oomimi pointed out with a sheepish grin.
“Good point,” you chuckled, tired but no longer angry at them. The cleaning had helped you take your mind off of your ire and stress.
The boys all glanced at one another, and you swore you heard someone counting down from three. Then, they promptly bowed at you in perfect unison, “We’re sorry and thank you very much!”
You blinked a few times at their bowed heads before you turned your own head to the side, “Pfft.”
Confused, your boys gazed up at you and slowly straightened themselves up.
“It’s just…you said ‘sorry’ and ‘thank you’ in the same breath,” You bit down on your lip to refrain from bursting out in laughter. “O-only you guys are capable of doing that, I swear.”
It wasn’t even that funny. You could only guess that it was a release of sorts, of the building stress and irritation that had been chipping away at your calm façade the past couple of weeks, but you really did try to not laugh. An apology was an apology, after all, no matter how silly and clumsy it was.
But you couldn’t conceal the breathless giggles escaping your lips.
“Hey! Don’t laugh at our kindness!” Atsumu cried out, half-embarrassed by your reaction.
“Kindness?” You echoed, wiping the tears that had formed at the corner of your eyes from your fit of laughter. “You sure weren’t kind when ya kindly made a mess for me to clean up.”
“Which’s why we apologized and thanked ya!” Atsumu shrieked.
“Okay, I accept your apologies, and you’re welcome.”
“That does sound kinda weird,” Suna acknowledged with a slight nod.
“Yeah, yer right,” Osamu agreed.
Ginjima shrugged carelessly, “At least [Surname] isn’t mad at us anymore.”
Akagi patted your shoulder now that you weren’t angry at them anymore, “Ya sure are scary when mad, [Surname].”
“I’ll treat you to some meat buns. Yer always working hard for us,” Aran offered with a grateful smile. You tiredly smiled back at him and nodded. Meat buns were a welcome treat after having exerted yourself with additional cleaning.
“Aran-kun, buy me too,” Osamu chimed in shortly after.
“Ah, me too!” Atsumu followed suit.
“I wouldn’t refuse, Aran.”
“Thank you for the treat, Aran.”
“Ooh, me too!”
“Same with me.”
“Buy yer own!” Aran burst out indignantly and appeared to ready himself for his own little lecture.
Then, the door opened, and Kita walked into the gym with his bag in tow. Aran swiftly shut his mouth and shoved his hands into his pockets.
“Oh, you all showered already?” He asked as he made his way over.
“The meeting took a long time today,” Oomimi changed the subject, carefully avoiding any potential inquiry into their freshly showered states.
“Yes, well, the Interhigh preliminaries are going to start soon, so the coaches had a lot to say,” Kita stated, then turned to you. “The coaches were worried. Ya said you would get yer notes but never came back.”
The team all stiffened in fear. While you were plenty scary yourself, Kita would not go soft on them as you often did.
“Sorry, Kita-san,” you apologized. “They were still practicing when I came back, so I got a little sidetracked.”
Well, more than just a little sidetracked.
Kita scrutinized the proud starting lineup of Inarizaki and reprimanded them, “We had a practice match against a strong university team. Ya should be resting up instead of recklessly pushing yourselves. We need you in top condition for the upcomin’ Interhigh preliminary games. You are our starting members for a reason, don’t forget that.”
They all avoided their captain’s piercing gaze, and you knew they were thanking you in their minds for saving them from a far worse lecture.
“And you shouldn’t be so soft on them,” Kita scolded you in a significantly softer tone. “They can clean up after themselves, but still, good work today. Go change out of your clothes. We’ll wait for you outside the clubroom. I heard that Aran is going to treat us to meat buns.”
Aran looked at his friend in betrayal.
You glanced between the team and the captain and then left the gym to change out of your uniform. You had done all you could for them, so now it would depend on whether Kita caught on or not, and that wasn’t anything you could really control.
As soon as the door shut behind their exhausted manager and they heard her footsteps retreating from the gym, Kita rested his gaze back onto his anxious teammates.
“What really happened?”
The boys all looked at each other in alarm and panic, wordlessly urging someone to speak out on their behalf. However, no one was willing to be subjected to Kita’s cold logic and sharp tongue.
After a few more moments of being stuck in a silent deadlock with one another, Osamu discreetly pinched Atsumu, who yelped out in response, effectively breaking the tense silence.
“Atsumu?” The captain inquired.
The blond setter gulped nervously and refused to meet the intimidating third year’s eyes. He cursed his twin out in his head as he stuttered his way around a response, “Er, well…we kinda messed around, and [Name] got mad at us.”
“And what do ya mean by ‘messed around’?”
“We…sorta got into a, um, water fight? With the buckets and brooms? And…maybe the balls, too?”
The rest of the team all waited anxiously for Kita’s inevitable lecture, but they were met with a gruelling and what felt like a long few seconds instead.
“You guys really do make things hard for [Surname],” Kita deadpanned.
“W-we know…”
“Since [Surname] went through the trouble to save you all, I’ll spare ya from the lecture you’re probably waitin’ for.”
“Shinsuke…” Oomimi peered down at their captain, touched by his show of benevolence and mercy.
“I’m not gonna be so light next time.”
“Yes, sir!” The team exclaimed, except Suna, who just looked relieved.
“Let’s get our things and go. We said we’d be waiting outside the clubroom, so [Surname] must be waitin’ for us now. I’m sure yer all hungry for meat buns since Aran’s treating.”
“Shinsuke, not you too!” Aran cried out as they all started shuffling out of the gym and making their way to the clubroom.
“Heh, thanks, Aran-kun!” Atsumu patted the soon-to-be-broke third year.
“Don’t mind,” Suna smirked.
“Itadakimasu,” Osamu sang a little too happily.
“Shouldn’t have offered, Aran,” Oomimi said in mock sympathy.
Aran shook his head, “It was for [Name]! For what we did!”
“I didn’t hear her stopping us from requestin’ meat buns,” Akagi pointed out, “and she’s the one who should decide…y’know, ‘for what we did’.”
“Then let’s ask!”
“Ya think she’ll really defend your wallet?” Atsumu arched his brow. “She might still be a little pissed.”
“…Yes.”
“That didn’t sound certain, Ojiro-san,” Ginjima couldn’t help but add on to Aran’s distress. He was hungry after all that had transpired both during and after practice, so he was truly grateful that their manager had let them all off easy this time.
Aran didn’t bother to respond any longer and reluctantly resigned himself to his fate. The team would not budge on matters that involved food, especially with Osamu in the mix.
“Actually, Aran-kun, I’d also like an onigiri—with the meat bun, of course.”
Speak of the devil, the third year lamented before shouting out, “Eat dinner at home! Yer meat bun’s a snack!”
In the end, Osamu got a meat bun and an onigiri and ate a full and proper dinner at home, to Aran’s never-ending distress and dismay.
Extra: The Post-Shower Emergency Meeting
“So…what should we do?” Ginjima whispered as he leaned against a locker and tapped his thigh with his left index finger.
The group of freshly showered boys were all huddled up in the middle of the locker room, keeping their voices low in case their angry manager heard them from the gym.
“Apologize?” Akagi suggested. “It’s our fault for starting the mess.”
“And she’s the one cleaning up for us,” Oomimi added.
“But how should we apologize?” Osamu asked. “Together? Separately?”
“Do you think she’ll have the patience to hear each of our apologies?” Suna wondered aloud.
Atsumu vigorously shook his head, “Let’s not test it.”
Aran sighed and glimpsed at the door to the gym, the only thing separating them from their manager, “Together?”
They all exchanged glances with each other before nodding in unison, “Together.”
Then, Aran opened the door. It was time to face the music.
© 𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐞. all rights reserved. do not plagiarize, share, repost, or translate my works.
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