weewoo186

[weewoo186]

Dedicated to: @ catchmewiddershins 

Hi hello! We’ve been out a lot during the holiday season and I just got back home a few hours ago. It’s a bit late, but Merry Christmas and Happy New Year, nonetheless! <3

You were standing a few feet away from the oven, heat radiating into the cool air of the kitchen, but you pay it no mind. A few hours ago, you were quietly enjoying the holiday season rotting all alone at home. But now… You look up at Suga in utter confusion, wondering how the hell he managed to drag you away from the comfort of your hole.

He fumbles absentmindedly with a whisk as he sits and waits. When he came knocking on your door earlier, he told you about wanting to do something for the team and needing an extra pair of hands to help him with it.

“Well… Christmas is just around the corner, and I wanted to do something for the team,” he begins to explain, choosing his words carefully, “The gifts I gave last time were too practical...? So this time, I decided to do something a bit more personalized. A few people from the team have quite the sweet tooth, so I’ve got a general idea on what to make them.”

“I see. But what does that have to do with me?” you ask groggily as you lean on the door frame.

“I figured you were probably alone, so I’ve decided to ask you for help!”

You look at him pointedly just to see a wide smile plastered on his face. Though you often ignore most of his antics, you did appreciate how kind he tends to be when it comes to his teammates and friends. If you were to be completely honest (you were, however, not), you’d admit that you feel somewhat… indebted to that same kindness in a way. While your initial plan was to spend the holiday season binging movies at home, you understood better than anyone how some people spend it alone simply because they have no choice. And it just so happened that Suga was one of them.

 Well, it’s not like I had anything better to do anyway.

 “Alright,” you say, trying your best to smile up at him, “do you need help buying ingredients? I’m free today so it wouldn’t be a problem if you did.” You weren’t selfish enough to accept his invitation without offering to lend a hand with a few preparations yourself.

But Suga simply waved his hand in response. “No need! I often cook for myself, so sometimes I have plenty of time to try my hand out at new things. Just bring yourself, it’s no problem.”

  …And here we are

“I’ve actually prepared the ingredients early so we could start right away,“ Suga says elatedly as he circles the area inside the kitchen, navigating you around with ease. You look around to see butter, sugar, eggs, milk… the typical baking set. Or so you assume.

“Ah, right,” Suga says, looking back at something on the table behind you, “before I forget, you really should be careful around—"

Your hand brushes the table’s surface, accidentally knocking over something that felt smooth and rather round to the touch. It was only when you turned your head back in alarm when you see a flurry of white particles rise, accompanying the echo of a loud and empty thump that emitted from the clattering of what was apparently a wooden bowl.

“—the flour.”

“…”

You wipe unmistakably pale hands underneath an apron Suga let you borrow earlier.

“I’m usually more careful than this.”

“I wouldn’t have said that if I knew you were.” He says, eyeing a not-so-small pile of white powder scattered on the floor.

“You didn’t see anything.”

“How terrifying.” Suga says in an absolute monotone. He smiles weakly with a sigh, already used to your tendency to actively screw up everything you could lay your hands on. He carefully sets something in front of you, humming as he went. “Well anyway, let’s start?”

You weren’t against it, but- “Suga…?”

“Yes?”

“The only thing I see is a mixing bowl.” And an electric one, too.

“Yes.”

You grumble a complaint, but you press the metal buttons when needed, nonetheless, earning you a silent snicker from Suga.

After feebly protesting, you eventually engaged him into idle chatter, falling into a comfortable rhythm of laughing, bickering… and suddenly remembering that you were supposed to be helping him bake.

Despite the very clearly written instructions on the recipe, you couldn’t help but make a few mistakes here and there. Even Suga’s expertise in remaining calm couldn’t hide how his demeanor easily cracked when it came to how undeniably unskillful you were at carrying out the simplest of directions

“I said to mix the dry ingredients!”

“I did! I put it in after the liquid ones.”

“You did what?!”

He looked at you in disbelief; misinterpretation was one thing, but to make a mistake at something that was so clearly wrong makes him wonder how on earth you’ve managed to survive this long. He sighs exasperatedly.

“Move aside, I’m taking over.” And you let him.

Suga moves about in the kitchen, intentionally doing his best to act like he forgot your presence as he gets caught up in his own head. He went to work, cleaning up after your mess, then proceeding to properly mix the base ingredients as the intended recipe instructed. When he finished, he moved on to partition the mix into smaller bite-sizes until they were all waiting in perfectly distributed batches in order to decide on a flavor for each one later on.

He hums a casual tune while he flits about from cupboard to cupboard, seemingly plucking ingredients out of thin air as he plops them all up in a tall pile that’s dangerously close to toppling over. Strangely, he somehow manages not to make a complete mess of the kitchen despite his thoroughly unstable movements.

He then slowly places the things on the table, combining flavor after flavor, who did it with much more elegance and care than you could ever have managed. Eventually, he finished. With a bit of a hum, he picked up a few unused spoons from the countertop and carefully set them one by one in each batch of flavoring so as not to ruin their textures.

“Since I wouldn’t want you to fall asleep, could you taste these for me?” he asks with a laugh and slight lilt in his voice, attempting to hide his childlike excitement.

You glance down to a nearby batch whipped carefully inside a small bow. You pick it up, making sure not to be too aggressive since you did see how much effort he put into it. Slowly, you slip the spoon inside your mouth.

“Does it taste alright?”

A wave of flavor hit you. You look up at, baffled. Sometimes, you just can’t help but ask yourself how modest this person can be.

“It does!” And you swear you see a shadow of a smile underneath that relieved expression of his.

You proceeded to taste the rest of the flavors, deciding not to hold back anymore. As expected of Suga, they were all distinct but equally delicious. All that you were supposed to do was to taste each and every single one of them and give your general opinions—which wasn’t really all that helpful given your lack of culinary experience-- but when your tongue glided over a smooth, pastel-colored flavoring, you stop abruptly. "Hey Suga, can I ask what flavor this is?"

He glanced up from the recipe book and leaned over to look. "I’m not sure either. Why?"

Licking the rest of the spoon dry, you mouth your words slowly so that the lingering sweetness of the flavor would remain, "I don’t know how to describe it, but it tasted really, really nice"

“Well, that’s good then.” He smiles, closing the book.

You decide to ignore the faint tinge of red that was spreading at the tip of his ears.

He takes a seat beside you and pushes a chair in your direction, motioning you to sit down as well. His hand goes under the table and pulls out a set of cookie cutters from inside a built-in drawer, handing them to you.

As he goes to work again, each batch of cookie dough would be expertly handled by practiced and calculated movements that were an obvious result from repeated practice. The dough would make a flat sound in response to being combined with different flavors, filling the kitchen with squishing sounds.

As you work your way using the cookie cutters he gave you, the evident stillness between you seemed to grow more comfortable rather than awkward, as if what you were doing was merely an everyday routine that you had both grown accustomed to after years and years of companionship.

  “…By the time you’re done, Christmas will have already passed, you know?” Suga snorts, breaking the silence with one arm propped over the other as he watches you struggle. Although a full hour has passed since then, most of the time spent was basically Suga making fun of your complete lack of skill when it came to performing the most basic of kitchen tasks.

“I can’t do anything with you watching meee-“ You sob as you produce another deformed cookie.

“The recipe was supposed to be really easy, too.” He says with a feigned sigh— and maybe it might have been for him. But your experience with baking is about as great as Hinata’s experience with being tall. He wasn’t.

“If these cookies turn out awful, I’m not taking the blame,” you say, eyeing down at the sorry pile in front of you.

“Fine, I’ll help— but only because I don’t want the team to think I’m bad at cutting cookies.” He laughs as you roll the remaining pile of dough in front of him.

You stand up and stretch your arms only to realize how sore they were when they made a loud cracking noise. Huh, can’t believe I didn’t notice. Maybe you were having too much fun despite not knowing how to anything at all.

You sit down on the counter once more and allow Suga to re-shape each and every one of the cookies you tried your utter best to cut out. When he finished, he moved on to carefully place them equally on top of thin metal trays, a good distance from one another.

“That’s the last of them,” Suga said, setting one last cookie on the tray before slipping them all into the oven. “And now we just have to wait!”

The two of you agreed that cleaning up would probably be the best thing to do, so Suga offered to handle the mess on the countertop, leaving you to deal with the used bowls and utensils.

“You do know how to do that much… right?” Suga asks, mocking worry, which earns him a light smack at the back of his head.

Once again, the two of you fall into a casual exchange of laughter and bickering because what else was there to do? Your thoughts drift to how your relationship with Suga was rather… odd, to say the least. And you mean that in the best way possible.

You wouldn’t say that you were self-conscious or uncomfortable around each other, but it was as if you two would simply indulge in each other’s presence whenever you find it in yourselves to be convenient.

Were you friends? Oh, absolutely—and that’s one of the few things you can say with confidence. Although you suppose that the friendship you share leaned more on the comfortable “I’ll be there when you need me” side rather than the “I need to spend every waking moment with you” side.

And that was just how you liked it. You laugh as Suga almost gets burnt by the oven handle.

You didn’t feel the urge to confirm your friendship by constantly going out and having “fun”, as other people would like to call it. But it was simply a matter of understanding that the two of you cherished each other for long enough that it doesn’t matter if you didn’t spend a lot of time with each other; you would always have each other’s backs…

 The sound of the oven timer put an end to your train of thought

“They’re done, right??” You had just finished washing everything and you quickly half-tripped your way towards the oven in excitement. A blast of hot air hit your face, but you try not to let it affect you too much as you take the trays out of the oven, bouncing on the balls of your feet.

Although you try your best to resist the aroma of freshly baked cookies, you just can’t help but inspect the cookies at every possible angle, looking for the perfect one that looks cool enough to pick up.

“Oi calm down! You can’t eat them yet.” Suga said, pulling you away from the tray when he sees how dangerously close it was to your face.

“Are you suuure we can’t?” Before he could stop you, you poke out a finger to just slightly brush your finger on a cookie, rightfully earning you a light burn that made you wince and quickly pull away. “Ahaha, never mind...”

“And that’s why you should wait,” And reluctantly, you do.

  When the cookies finally cooled down, Suga tried his hardest to pry you off the table, repeatedly reminding you that the cookies were for the team and weren't supposed to be eaten by you of all people. Biting the inside of your cheek, you defeatedly help him pack different sets of cookies into neat little containers, each one a different color. The team sure was lucky to have such a kind upperclassman, you thought absentmindedly.

It didn't take a genius to see, but Suga really was caring, wasn't he? Each set was personalized for every member of the volleyball team: strawberry-filled ones for a certain four-eyes, orange zest ones for a certain shortie, and overly cute ones for a certain kind giant. You finish placing the cookies into each owner's container when you realize that there was still a leftover set that was sitting on a chair beside Suga instead of on the table.

You wonder-- was he saving it for something? He very well could have put some aside for later given Suga's extreme sweet tooth. But you decided to ask him anyway since it was torture not being able to have a single bite-- "Hey, Suga. Are those leftover cookies beside you?"

He looks at the cookies and laughs, "Who knows? Now turn around for a bit and close your eyes, too! These are special ones, so you have to give me your immediate opinion." You felt a twinge of annoyance at the answer, but still, you do exactly as he says, turning your back towards him and placing the tips of your fingers over closed eyelids, huffing just a bit. You hear the sounds of something moist being squeezed out of a pipette and other unknown ingredients placed here and there.

At this point, you can't help but feel slightly nervous-- It wasn't exactly unpleasant, but the anticipation was killing you.

"You can look now," You slowly turn around, unexpectedly feeling slightly somber when you do.

These cookies were… different from the others. They were decorated delicately, too delicate, that it caused mixed feelings to swirl inside of you. But all you could do was choke back an envious sigh that almost made its way into the cold, cold air.

Well, whoever’s getting these must be very special to him, you laugh until you see Suga looking at you, waiting.

 Huh? But surely, they aren’t…

 Voice cracking a bit, you ask him slowly, carefully-- "Are these for... me?"

He doesn't reply, but instead, he just smiles. He brushes past you and pats your shoulder, providing you with more questions and refusing to give any answers. And, well. You stand there holding the plate and quietly exhale a shaky breath you weren’t even aware you were holding.

He sits beside you with one arm propped under his chin. He doesn't look at you, but instead draws shapes on the table, waiting. Were it anyone else, you would have broken the silence in an attempt to clear out your confusion-- but since this was Suga, you kept yourself uncharacteristically quiet.

 You warily place the plate on the table, doing your best not to break the cookies despite the crinkling sound they made as they rubbed against one another. You felt on the edge as a rush of panic and confusion flooded you—were these really for you? Hesitating, you sneak a glance back at his direction, hoping for an answer. The silence was killing you.

 What now?

 Unexpectedly, it was Suga who broke the deafening silence. "...I think you might like them." He still doesn't make eye contact.

The quietness in his voice made you realize that you weren’t the only one who was nervous. You look to see that his knuckles were white from the deathly grip he held, and that his ears were hidden due to the unmistakable redness coloring them. he was just as nervous as you. You pick one up, lifting it up to your mouth in a quivering, shaking breath.

You took a bite, savoring the creamy burst of flavor—and you take another, then another, and another, and another.

 Liked them? You loved them.

 The silence of the kitchen was replaced with the sound of sniffles that emitted from your dry throat. Suga turned, alarmed, but arms were reaching out behind his back until you somehow clawed your way into the warm comfort of his arms.

"I'm not good with words, but..." Your hands cling to the soft fabric of his clothes tighter, "Thank you."

"And you, too." The words fell like water out of his mouth, and as if released from some sort of personal restraint, he hugged you back, burying his face in your chest. You were certain you heart had stopped, but the pleasant warmth coursing through you when he returned the gesture filled you with a sense of bliss.

You laugh, “Merry Christmas, Suga.” And he looks up, eyes sparkling with more happiness than you’d ever seen before. There was something else mixed in with the swirling gold of eyes, but who knows? Maybe it was only a figment of your imagination.

"Merry Christmas." He says, hugging you once more.

---

Tag/s: @ catchmewiddershins @momochimo

a/n: ahaha s0- we were gone for too long that this fic was just waiting in the cold, dark, and empty storage of my laptop i’m so sorry *sips 13th cup of coffee*

Anyway! I really do hope you enjoy this fic-- and please feel free to ask for more tidbits! baibaii~ enjoy the holidays and hopefully your break is longer than mine <3

[weewoo186]

Green Tea and Milk Bread

An Oikawa fanfic.

Warnings: Language not suitable for all ages

Word count: 2.9k

“The cool autumn wind brushed your face gently as you walked towards school. Objectively speaking, it was a rather fine day. The clear blue sky let the warm rays of the early morning sun reign down upon your back in warm, loving embrace as it’s accompanied by the hushed chitter chatter of students gossiping about this and that. The school grounds were covered in a blanket of red and gold leaves despite the fact that the autumn season was just beginning, and as you trudge along this blanket, a few leaves would get caught on your shoes every now and then. You shiver a bit.”

 And you felt… absolutely done with life. Because none of that was actually real. You were exhausted, sleep-deprived, and in desperate need of a good drink.

In truth, the cool autumn wind felt like a blizzard upon your face, blowing dirt and small debris to your eyes, practically making you half-blind. The warm rays of the sun felt like burning coals upon your back for there wasn’t a single cloud in sight. The loud noises of gossiping students made you want to commit something unforgivable. And- and the leaves. The leaves would make you trip because you couldn’t even see the damn ground at that point.

You were just one more minor inconvenience away from leaving your bag at the school steps and ditching class for absolutely no reason. You sigh. On days like these, when even the warm and loving sun felt like it had a grudge against you, you’d daydream. You’d look around and observe even the tiniest things life has to offer: small bugs crawling under the shade of a young plant, butterflies waltzing amongst the colorful explosion of the scattered flowers on the school grounds, the birds singing in harmonious melodies... you’d observe anything and everything because otherwise, nothing else might distract you from planning unforgiveable things against the world.

You walk inside the entrance hall and make your way towards your locker, taking note of the class schedule posted on a nearby billboard for all the students to see. You look around a bit and notice how the standard white lights lit up the school corridors in an aggressively bright way as if trying to counter the fact that majority of the students inside looked as if they hadn’t slept in weeks. There were A LOT of different personalities doing random stuff this early in the morning, making you chuckle silently so as not to draw attention to yourself: seniors racing to buy energy drinks from the only vending machine in school, a trio sprinting down the halls trying to mug water bottles and umbrellas from their unsuspecting victims, a group of friends performing a ritual around a circle of candles under the stairs, quietly chanting something about burning down the school- wait, what?

Pretending not to see anything, you turn around and busy yourself with picking a random mothball you found sticking inside your locker door. Suddenly, out of nowhere, a girl... shrieked? You glance around in surprise and recoil in plain annoyance when you saw why. Ah shoot, here we go again.

Oikawa Tooru. Probably one of the most egoistic pricks you’ll ever meet in your life.

With a permanent smile plastered upon his face, he walked, no, strutted down the entrance hall as if he owned the damned place. His popularity with everyone was phenomenal, to say the least. Waving friendlily at the students trying to get him to notice them, he was immediately surrounded by girls (no surprises there) who decided to crowd him in all directions in desperate attempt to get just a sliver of his attention. You felt a headache forming when Oikawa made his way towards his locker which was just so conveniently a few steps away from yours. As you hurriedly tried to gather your books for the next three periods, one of the girls had somehow, miraculously grabbed his attention.

It was plain to see how she managed to do that though, for she was definitely one of the prettiest girls you’ve seen today. Thick black hair flowing in the most adorable curls down to her petite waist, she looked like she could be a member of the cheerleading squad or something. She had casually striked up a conversation with him and was now giggling flirtatiously with the guy.

 No offense, but is she dense?

Oikawa’s a playboy for Christ’s sake. Trying to win a guy like him was a suicide mission, and one that could potentially lead you to despair at that. You scoff, closing your locker a little bit harder than usual. You catch Oikawa’s glance and try your utter best to remain a neutral expression on your face. Grabbing your books, you make your way to class in a hurry.

---

Despite the happenings earlier, you couldn’t exactly avoid Oikawa forever. I mean, he was your classmate after all.

School break had just ended, which meant a change in seating arrangements was in order.

The teacher in charge of your class for the morning had entered the classroom with the sleepiest expression on her face, looking as if she, as well, was absolutely done with her life (you nod in approval, relating to her at a spiritual level). She took one look around the class and sighed so heavily that you can’t help but wonder if she’s even alright. Taking out a box, she lazily wiggled her fingers and told the students to write down their names on slips of paper so that the seating arrangements would be random and fair to everyone. And by the time the period was up, you had somehow ended up being in the most ideal position in class. Also known as the middle row; the perfect place to take a nap, relax, sleep and--

 “Eh??? Sensei, surely I can’t be here in the middle row!” Oikawa whines loudly.

 --and chuck Oikawa down the nearest bin.

You look at him beside you and tried not to lose it when you saw that defeated expression on his face. Oikawa desperately tried complimenting the teacher to get on her good side. A few sweet comments on her hair and clothing were thrown carelessly around, but she wasn’t having any of Oikawa’s crap and just waves her arm dismissively.

Mouth agape, he sulks and sits back down on his desk like a puppy who just lost his favorite toy.

---

Despite the unfortunate circumstances you were placed in, the rest of the day really wasn’t all that bad. It was finally your last period for the day, and you just absentmindedly stared straight at the teacher, lazily taking down notes of whatever she wrote down on the board.

Although you tried your best to ignore your new desk mate, you can’t help but notice how he squinted his eyes to the blackboard as if he couldn’t see a single thing. Curiously, you take a peek at the contents of his notebook and see that he wrote… nothing? You take a look back to his face and notice how he actually looked rather worried.

Even though you personally disliked his character, you can admit that he wasn’t an overall bad person. A bit of a playboy, sure, but that was about it, honestly. You sigh darkly. Despite everything else, he was still a classmate who probably needed a bit help. You weren’t so inhumane that you’d cruelly ignore someone in obvious need of assistance. Just as you were about to tap him on the shoulder, the teacher called his name in a slow, pronounced manner.

“Oikawa… Tooru?” she said. Although Oikawa stood up confidently from his seat, you could see his fist clench a bit tightly on the edge of his desk in silent frustration.

The teacher lightly tapped on the board and patiently asked for an answer to the question they wrote down on the board’s dark surface. A few moments passed until Oikawa just laughed nervously, rubbing his hand behind his head. Feeling a twinge of pity for him, you quietly tore a piece of paper from your notebook and scribbled down the answer in bright, red ink.

“Psst,” you whisper at him.

He glances at your direction, and you subtly slide the piece of paper towards him.

And with that, the teacher nodded in approval and turned to face the board once more.

---

“So why did you do it?” he asked curiously, as you hurriedly chugged down a can of green tea.

When the whole incident earlier had ended, Oikawa had insisted on buying you a drink. Although you had flatly refused several times using the “I’m a bit busy” and “I have a lot of schoolwork” as excuses, he kept pressing you on his offer, telling you that it wouldn’t even take that long.

This and that happened, and now you’re somehow sitting beside him on the bench near the school’s vending machine.  

The hellish sunny morning from earlier had given way to a dark, tranquil state of a rainy afternoon. You looked at the grey clouds forming, and simply enjoyed the intoxicatingly musty smell of rain. Under normal circumstances, the rain would have been more than enough to make you feel at ease, but with Oikawa here sitting beside you, you felt neither calm nor relaxed. Fidgeting a bit, you reply.

“Well, I’m not exactly cruel enough to let down a classmate in need of help, am I?” you laugh nervously.

When Oikawa just stared at you and said nothing, the tension between the both of you became painfully obvious to say the least. Standing up, you buy him a drink (looks kinda like milk?) and hand it to him in attempt to break the awkwardness between you. He looks up and just laughs.

“What’s this?”

“A thank you for the green tea, I guess.”

“Aww, you didn’t need to,”

“Well,” you smile rather awkwardly, “I wanted to?”

Although it was a sad attempt in being friendly, Oikawa didn’t look like he minded at all. He chuckles, carefully opening the drink you bought him, producing a nice and satisfying hiss from the can as a result. You look at him, pondering, when he breathed a sigh of absolute satisfaction. Although the silence between you had come back again, it wasn’t as uncomfortable this time. Relaxed and lulled by the sound of rain (and perhaps Oikawa’s company), your eyes kept fluttering, trying to fight the drowsiness that had accumulated from your obvious lack of rest. You slowly lean against the cold ceramic surface of the wall and drifted off to sleep without a single care in the world.

…

It’s not the gentle voice of Oikawa that brought you to reality, but rather the slight sway of your hair as it flowed with a sudden gust of wind. Drowsy as ever, you blink as the footsteps of passing students, the silent dripping of the rain, and the sounds of familiar chatter came back to you. You put down the cold tea in your hands, quickly preparing for an apology, but stopped short upon seeing Oikawa smiling, holding his phone’s camera in front of you.

“I apologize, but the expression on your face was rather interesting to see especially since it was coming from a person like you.” He smiled playfully, “Apparently, my hand had just moved on its own.”

You stared blankly, not sure on how to respond. The act was just so… so random that you can’t help but give him a loud snort.

Without a single word being spoken, Oikawa placed a can of green tea in front of you, still cold to the touch, and encouraged you to take it with a single, lazy motion of his hand. He smiled knowingly, aware that a cold batch of green tea was best enjoyed by you when it came fresh out of the machine.

He sat a few inches beside you, and somehow the two of you had ended up just talking.

It first started with you casually telling him about your day. You told him about your grudge towards the sun and your childish plan to take revenge after all the inconveniences it’s caused you. After some time of idle chatter, you realize just how much of a good listener he is. So, you pester him into telling you more about his day for a change.

“Well, here’s the thing…” he started, and everything after that was simply history.

 The cycle of stories had repeated itself several times until the both of you were engaged in a deep conversation about things and whatnot. The two people who sat on the bench couldn’t simply be classified as “you and Oikawa”, but rather, a pair who felt as if they understood each other at that moment more than anyone else in the world did. If any passerby were to look at the direction of the vending machine, they would see two friends, casually telling one another about their day, surrounded by a mountain of empty drinks stacked atop one another.

Time flew by fast, and before the both of you realized it, it was already getting rather late. You had to admit it, but Oikawa wasn’t as bad as a person as you had initially thought. You smiled a bit when you saw how humane he actually was. Casually laughing and teasing you for absolutely no reason just like how a normal friend would.

Apparently, it was just that plain and simple.

---

The next day, your first period teacher tells you all to partner up for an activity, and Oikawa, being the charismatic and childish person he was, kinda, sorta, not-so-subtly told you about how he’s absolute garbage at the subject.

You gave him a questioning look accompanied with a single motion of your hand that said, “You sure about that? There are a lot more viable options out there.”

In response, he pulls his desk over to yours and scoots beside you as if to say, “Yeah I’m sure”.

You aren’t even a fan of working together, but when it comes it comes to Oikawa, you somehow ended up enjoying the small, fleeting moments you experience with him. You’re just… fascinated with him, the surprisingly wholesome guy whose genuine smile could light up the darkest of nights. There’s truly something in him that other people just don’thave, and when you ponder about it for a little while, you realize it’s because of the fact that he has stars in his eyes. Little, twinkling stars that light up every time he hears about every minor detail that you’d tell him. You’ve never seen those stars light up in anyone else when they talk to you. Maybe it was because of all the people you’ve befriended; he was the only one who was actually willing to listen. It was this realization that caused you to smile like an idiot.

Because for you, that was more than enough.

You scooted over to him in small, giddy and happy movements. You can’t help but smile, for how long has it been since you’ve talked to someone who wanted to talk to you in return? Oikawa looks at you questioningly, asking “What is it? Did something happen?” in genuine curiosity with a soft expression painted upon his face. You look at him and simply brush it off, saying that his eyes must’ve been playing tricks on him.

When working together with a friend, it’s almost always expected that a bit of playfulness would be injected into the daily dose of idle conversation. So, after much bickering and forehead-flicking, the two of you quieted down and decided to simply accompany each other in silence. Oikawa, with his neat handwriting, was listing down notes and bits of information from the textbooks while you helped him plan the format that the both of you were going to use. From time to time, you’d see his face light up a bit when your hand would accidentally brush his, as if he was simply relieved that the two of you were working together.

You both worked in perfect harmony despite a few occasional accidents when you’d bump into each other and mumble a small apology here and there. Whenever you see him struggling with doing two things at the same time, you’d wordlessly help him with one of those things before he can even refuse, and if he sees you having a hard time with something he knows he can help with, he’d say “wait, come here” and just does it for you without even sparing you a single glance.

---

After some time, both of you had eventually finished the activity. And in one single go at that. Oikawa lets out a heavy sigh of relief as he stretched his muscles, turning his face towards yours with a bright smile.

“Hey wait, have I ever told you when…”

---

And for the rest of the period, Oikawa simply told you about bits and pieces of information that really did have no significance at face value. But that didn’t matter now, did it? For there was no rhyme or reason at that point. He simply felt like telling you things. You, on the other hand, had no rhyme or reason to accompany him. You simply felt like listening. It didn’t need to be any more complicated than that.

“Hey, hey, did I ever tell you when Iwa-chan tripped during a match back in high school? It was pretty hilarious, but don’t tell him I said that.”

As Oikawa’s eyes lit up when recalling those nostalgic memories, you can’t help but notice how absolutely happy he looked. His smile would slowly widen with each random memory he recalled, and his voice became more playful at every flick and tease he gave you…

You realize just how important that single, genuine smile of his came to be. That precious and fragile expression radiated the purest form of happiness you’ve seen all day, plain for all to see.

Tags: @sunarent, @perruvianily

[weewoo186]

The Pudding and The Black Cat

A Kenma and Kuroo fanfic.

Warnings: Language not suitable for all ages

Word count: 2.7k

Kuroo looked at the concerning amount of paperwork on his desk. For a solid five seconds. In the dark. With no sleep whatsoever.

 Oh well,

 He stood up from his chair, grabbed a towel, and just laughed all his problems away.

---

After spending almost thirty minutes taking a long and depressing shower, light spilled onto the dark and empty living room as the bath door slowly creaked open in attempt not to wake up a certain pudding-shaped alien that was (supposedly) sleeping on the couch.  As Kuroo stepped out of the bathroom, droplets of water were dripping from his hair onto the dry surface of his clothing as if purposely trying to make his day worse by leaving him with the uncomfortable feeling of wet clothes sticking on his back. He turned off the lights and carefully navigated his way to the kitchen so that he could finally get some food in his system after the long and painful hours of working on his college thesis. He chuckled darkly after remembering the paperwork left on his desk, and just grabbed a pot of coffee that should have had something inside.

 Should have.

 The early hours of morn were usually the most peaceful and calming hours of the day. Aside from the simple and objectively relaxing interior of the dorm room, open windows allowed the cool morning breeze to flow inside in futile attempt to calm its residents. But Kuroo, who was one minor inconvenience away from losing his shit, felt neither calm nor peaceful.

 Not caring about making a ruckus anymore, he slowly made his way to the living room only to see Kenma playing video games. He looked at the pudding-shaped creature in front of him with utter disgust. It was five in the morning, and Kuroo felt like absolute shit after just completing a concerning amount of college work at record-speed. And here he sees Kenma playing video games and living the life.

 The blue lights from the video game reflected out from Kenma's wide and dry eyes. His messed-up hair made it look as if he hadn't slept in weeks, but what was even worse was that it actually looked convincing. His hands were clickity-clackiting on the controller, and as Kuroo saw Kenma almost beat another player, he took the controller away from his hands and turned off the game in one swift and seamless movement.

 Kenma stared at his smirking friend in horror and looked like he was prepared to riot as he said "Kuroo, what the hell do you want?"

 Kuroo held back a laugh. "What I wanted was to eat something and drink some coffee while I'm at it, but guess why I'm not doing that now."

 "Tch" Kenma replied, opening the mini refrigerator as he looked for unborn baby chickens and a few other ingredients.

---

Kuroo was in his second year of college, and Kenma on his first. Normally, the dorm doesn't allow students of different years to reside in the same room together in order to prevent issues such as bullying and the like, but given that their parents were pretty okay with it, the dorm manager didn't question it any further.

 The pair walked under the shade of trees as the morning sun started to climb its way to the heavens, spreading bright golden light along its way. Kenma looked up and remembered how the gym lights during their high school days would shine on Kuroo and the team as they cried, rejoiced, and felt the pain of playing an unreasonably competitive sport that was volleyball. Practicing for long, endless hours after pretending that their losses never bothered them... It was during those times when Kenma felt so alive. So much so that he wouldn't have imagined that after three years of playing the sport, he would still be a bit passionate about it.

 But like everything else, these fleeting, nostalgic moments must come to an end. When he looked up at the sky once more, he couldn't help but think that the sun was just so... beautiful. He grimaced.

 ...It's so pretty that it's actually annoying

 Blaming the sun for anything and everything, Kenma soured when the light hit his face directly. He pulled up the hood of his jacket and started cursing the world because the walk to the campus was taking far too long that it should've. After finally reaching the entrance of the university, he just gave Kuroo the peace sign, mouthed I’m out, and stuffed his hands in his pockets as he dragged his feet on his way to the classroom.

 When he arrived at class, a few of his gamer friends immediately went berserk as they excitedly beckoned him to come and join them play this RPG game so that he could “carry them” or whatever that meant. Kenma smiled. He wasn’t the most sociable person (that much anyone could tell), but he was glad that his being awkward didn’t stop him from getting to know more people. He sarcastically sighed as he pretended that he was busy doing something, but eventually a small circle had been created around his desk as his friends watched him play at the speed of light using the many years of gaming knowledge that he had acquired since he was a kid.

 The day rolled by without much drama happening. Usually when they’re dismissed, a lot of other students would hang out in their classrooms. Kenma being one of those students.

 As he held his controller playing games with his peers, Kenma would often space out and stare into nothingness as his hands did all the gaming for him. His hair was tied up in a ponytail by one of the girls who was bothered that he couldn’t see very well because of his too-long bangs while he sucked on a lollipop that had “accidentally” fallen from his friend’s backpack (but he didn’t need to know that, right?). A boss enemy suddenly appeared onscreen and Kenma, being startled at the sudden noise, had dropped the controller out of surprise. Embarrassed by that whole shenanigan, he tried to avoid eye contact with his friends whose characters had died because of his slip-up until he caught one of his classmates staring right at him.

 One very pretty female classmate, to say the least.

 A small gasp escaped her when they made eye contact. Flustered that she was caught, she quickly gave him a small wave and an apologetic smile in an adorable attempt to be friendly. She was easily one of the prettiest girls in school, with wavy black hair and a persistent dimple in one cheek. And Kenma found himself waving back at her in such an awkward way that he felt like jumping off the classroom window and hoping that she’ll forget she ever made eye contact with him.

---

“You did…” Kuroo stares at Kenma in disbelief, “...what now?”

 They were eating dinner inside their dorm room, and Kenma brought up the thing that had been weighing on his mind since he left class. The night was silent with only the rustle of leaves reminding them of the outside world’s presence… that is until the two started bickering.

 “She waved at me. What did you expect me to do?” said Kenma as he stuffed his face in attempt to hide his embarrassment.

 “Anything better than that?? There are so many other options, you know.” Kuroo replied.

 “Oh yeah? What do you think I should have done then?”

 Kuroo opened his mouth and was about to say something until he stopped mid-way, crossed his arms, and huffed. “Good point.”

 Kuroo saw Kenma with such a smug expression plastered on his face. As if rubbing it in that no, there were no other options so shut it. The fact that he’s so proud of his pathetic attempt at interacting with girls rubbed Kuroo the wrong way because who the hell would be childish enough to do that?

 Kenma apparently.

 Kuroo exacted his revenge by strategically taking some of the meat on Kenma’s plate. When Kenma saw this, a series of stealing and spilling food occurred and the two just kept bickering like mad people until they came to the point that they didn’t even know what they were arguing about.

 For some reason, Kuroo felt a bit empty when Kenma told him this. But for the reason as to why he felt that way remains a mystery even to himself. Kenma, unbeknownst to Kuroo, takes note of his change in demeanor but didn’t press it further because what reason does he have to put on a face like that? It’s not as if he’s…

 Maybe it’s just a trick of the light, Kenma thinks, brushing it off.

---

The next day, Kenma woke up to sunlight spilling through his bedroom windows. Rolling over to his side, he checks the clock with hazy eyes. Flipping 7 in the morning. It’s been a long time since he’s slept this well.

He left Kuroo a note saying that he has something to do with his classmates for a group project and that he’ll be back before night falls. He added a small drawing of a peace sign so that maybe he’ll be forgiven for not telling Kuroo about the meet-up the day before.

---

That was a lie though.

Kenma strolled through a series of stores that were located side by side at the far end of town. Although Christmas was still months away, Kenma knew that by the time the event actually came around, he wouldn’t be able to have as much free time as he did right now.  Kenma, to everyone’s surprise, was actually pretty decent when it came to giving gifts. He took note to buy some virtual-themed keychains for the friends that play games with him (he’s actually super wholesome about the whole thing but he’d never admit it) and pre-order some small chocolates for the ones who’re just comfortable with hanging out with him. As he carefully navigated the products of different shops, he came across a small bakery hidden in a slightly secluded area where the public’s prying eyes wouldn’t usually fall. If it were on any other occasion, Kenma would have just walked past the area without giving it much of a thought. But this time was... a bit different.

 Kenma had to admit, the shop was extremely uninteresting. Like if you were to describe the exterior of the place, only one thought would come to mind: it’s boring. Plain white walls were its only redeeming qualities given that all the other colors had started peeling off for who knows how long. Dark, crawling vines were all over the railings of the short staircase as if purposely trying to ward off customers from visiting. If that wasn’t bad enough, it was the only shop in the area that wasn’t located within the hustle and bustle of the early morning crowd.

 The only reason Kenma had willingly pushed open the glass doors of the shop was because of a single, mouth-watering chocolate-glazed cake that was sitting neatly atop the counter alongside many other intricate delicacies.

 Kuroo likes sweet things, that much he knew.

 But that doesn’t explain why a twinge of pink had spread over his face when he left the store. He smiled fondly at the cake in hand as he recalled the time when both of them would go trick-or-treating and Kuroo would take Kenma’s loot and trade all his chocolate-favored candy with every other flavor.

 It’s fine, he’s a close friend anyways.

---

A few hours earlier, Kuroo woke up and saw Kenma’s note on the dining room table.

 That little sh-

 You know what? It’s fine. It’s not as if Kenma was still a child, right? He can make his own decisions just fine. Sure, his sense of direction was terrible and that he could totally get lost in an elevator. Or that he accidentally poisoned himself by eating a two-week old pizza while playing a game. Or that he walks on busy roads while using his phone. It’s… fiNE-

 Kuroo stopped.

 He trusted Kenma enough to know that he’d manage to survive on his own. But for all the things in the world that he trusts him with, the feelings that Kuroo thinks he harbors over his friend is something he can’t ever know about. He trusts Kenma with his life. Although Kenma couldn’t possibly save him because of his bony structure (sorry Kenma), Kuroo felt that these thoughts were more fragile than anything else at that moment.

 He… he couldn’t trust Kenma with a single moment of pure, impulsive insatnity.

 So much of him was built on this friendship. They were childhood friends for Christ’s sake. What would become of him if the very foundation of everything he was is gone?

 But would it be better of he knew?

 Kuroo snapped out of it.

 Oh, Jesus wait, that isn’t the problem here. Is Kenma alright?? What if he got lost? Actually wait, Kenma would have called him if he had a problem. Kuroo checked his phone. Okay, no, nothing. He calmed down. He admits that Kenma was a bit dumb sometimes, but he knew people who were more of a nutjob than he was. Like Yatora trying to communicate with the monkeys at the zoo one time. Or Lev’s curiosity on the effects of drinking spoiled milk. Or Fukunaga randomly talking to himself in the dark with his eyes wide open…

 Kuroo went back to sleep to calm his thoughts.

---

Kenma arrived at the door of his and Kuroo’s dorm room. Taking out a rusty ring of keys from his left pocket, he turned the doorknob and entered the extremely unkempt mess of random things that he called home.

 Ignoring the fact that the living room beside him was a complete dump, he carefully placed the cake on top of the table so as not to ruin the pristine outer layer that was delicately decorated with another layer of chocolate per his request.

 And then the overthinking began.

 Is it normal to randomly buy your friend cake like this? I mean it is, but both of us know that I don’t buy out of impulse. Ah it’s fine. Maybe I’m just tired.

 So, he proceeded to play video games, trying to ignore that impulsive thought that maybe he thought of them as more than friends.

 At first, he felt guilty that the thought had even crossed his mind. For one, he didn’t get why he would even feel guilty for doing something nice like buying your friend something that you know they like. I mean, friends do it all the time, right? It’s impossible to be anything more than that, because it wasn’t as if being different was wrong, it was wrong because he the person he likes might be his friend. And Kuroo at that. The layer of trust he has for Kenma platonically would be crushed if he knew about this. Kuroo just felt so far out of his reach and it seemed like no matter how hard he tried; he just couldn’t catch up.

 It wasn’t fair.

 Why was he the only one who had to feel the way he did? Why was he the only one who’s dumb enough to try and chase after something that he couldn’t… shouldn’t have? Not towards his closest friend, never towards him. He was a friend that Kenma chose for himself. And he wouldn’t lose him from something as trivial as feelings. Instead, he would bottle them away, to never see the light of day again, hoping, praying, that he could just keep these small and fleeting moments for himself, and ignore the craving for what is forever out of his reach.

 Kenma sighed and proceeded to play in order to drown these thoughts.

---

Kuroo woke up to the sound of video game noises. He crawled out of his sack, brushed pass Kenma and saw the small, dark cake that wasn’t there before he slept. He looked at Kenma and saw him with another one of his unreasonably smug expression,

And, as always, the two started bickering as if nothing else in the world mattered. An annoyed (although grateful) Kuroo forcefully pushed a cocky Kenma off the couch as they decided to just bicker pettily through the night with each other, playing video games and eating cake while they were at it.

-------------------------

Tags: @ perruvianily  @atsuvu​

A/n: hello world of unborn baby chickens without a future, here’s my work for  @atsuvu 's that's queer collab.I crammed this with 5 mins left before Oct 10 so IM STILL WITHIN THE DEADLINE PROLLY IDK MAN <3

These warm memories of their college days were only a prelude for more things to come. But within this very moment where both of them were blissfully ignorant of each other’s feelings... well, it wasn’t all that bad either.

[weewoo186]

bro omfg may pasok na bukas i cannot (dies)

[weewoo186]

Strawberries and Stars

A Tsukishima and Yachi fanfic.

(I can’t write x reader since the reader is supposed to be pretty and I’m obviously not ehe~)

Genres: Slice-of-life, Married under 25, Married life, Friends to lovers, Memories, College days, Rare pair, etc

Warnings: Language not suitable for all ages

Word count: 5.4k

(Note: I used their first names at present time and their last names during their memories uwu)

Kei sighed. It was two in the morning, and he was extremely exhausted by the sheer amount of paperwork stacked upon his wooden desk. Ever since he's started his job, insomnia hovered over him more often then usual at night. Daydreaming whilst keeping his hands moving was possibly the only way for him to get all the work done, blocking out any outside distractions he didn’t want to be involved with. During times like these, he would imagine himself not as a the caffeine-induced workaholic he was forced to become, but simply as a normal partner who's there to accompany Hitoka at home. But today, he simply could not get his work done.

He glanced outside the office room's moonlit windows. He smiled fondly as he recalled how the streetlamps of Miyagi prefecture would light the alleys in flickering, golden hues. Those same lights used to shine upon so many people in a single day: elementary students giggling amongst themselves as they raced home, sport clubs making a racket in front of Sakanoshita's, ladies in their parasols chatting about on their phones, and young couples wandering the streets as they held hands whispering sweet nothings to one another. In comparison, Tokyo at night was dimly lit and quite silent, to his surprise. The only noticeable source of light was the bright, full moon. He chuckled, for who would've thought that the city so full of people presented this type of scenery under the clear moonlit sky?

A sudden gust of cold wind caused him to wrap his arms around his chest, cursing at himself for not bringing anything to warm himself up.

Snapping out of the short daydream, he reluctantly glanced at the paperwork piled under a mini wood-carving of a slightly deformed monkey that Hitoka gave to him as a birthday joke. He took a handful from the pile in front of him and began to read and sign through stacks of documents and requests given to him by his co-workers. A little less than four minutes later, his hands started cramping in the most uncomfortable way possible. He cursed for the umpteenth time as he struggled to keep himself awake, relying mostly on the so-called "special brew" he made that consisted of three whole packs of instant coffee and a small bottle of his favorite strawberry milk that Hitoka gave to him before setting off for work. His eyes kept fluttering, trying to fight the drowsiness that had accumulated from his obvious lack of rest. The dark bags under his eyes honestly didn’t help either, only further indicating to everyone else that he needed rest. Despite the daily concerns of his co-workers, he continued working, not giving himself some slack even for a single moment.

Well, at least until he felt a sudden wave of fatigue coarse through his body.

“Ahaha, the sugar and caffeine are already starting to wear off, I see” he chuckled darkly, contemplating on whether or not he should take another swig of his god-awful brew. “Should I add a few more packs of sugar next time..?" he mused, wishing that some miracle would grant him the power to stake away at willpower.

Inhaling sharply, he still forced himself to work til morning. As his co-workers started checking in one by one, he tried his absolute best to brush off the fact that majority of them were practically forcing him to sleep. He smiled at their futile attempts, assuring them that he was absolutely fine. Despite his co-workers offering to cover for him for a few days; he flatly refused, not wanting to bother them for his inefficiency. As the midday sun rose and hovered above the towering buildings of Tokyo, his peers decided to take a one hour break. After refusing a handful of invitations to go and eat out, he kept himself seated at his desk, determination overflowing as he finished up the remaining papers that needed to be signed. As his ink pen danced over the last document, he heard the concerned voice of Hitoka replaying in his head.

“You're... working too hard," she had said, her dark eyes scanning his tired state, "Ah, don't get me wrong! I just noticed that you're pushing yourself too much and I'm a bit concerned” her voice was laced with worry despite her usually jittery appearance. From this, he let out an amused puff of air. He stood up from his desk, stretching his stiff and tired muscles. Turning, he arranged the files on his desk and switched off the lights in one swift movement as he prepared to go home. From there, he excitedly rushed out of the room, trying not to skip as he imagined his wife waiting for him at home.

-------2 hours later---------

Standing outside his house, he rummaged inside his pocket and pulled out a silver key with mint green dino key chain hanging on one end. He smiled at the funny-looking item and proceeded to enter his humble abode.

Stepping inside the odd, yet, comfortable scenery of his home, he took a single whiff and suddenly felt his fatigue and drowsiness disappear in an instant. To come home and be welcomed by the heavenly aroma of butter and meat being sautéed from the kitchen is an experience only the truly fortunate can indulge in. The scraping and clacking noises of pots and pans filled the room as if to announce to anyone nearby that people are indeed inhabiting the place. After taking in his shoes and placing them on a nearby rack, he silently made his way to the kitchen and saw Hitoka sprinkling foreign ingredients of all shapes and sizes into a pot in small, happy movements, humming a tune he couldn't quite make out. He peered over her shoulder and widened his eyes in pleasant surprise. Although he knew for a fact that he wasn't experienced much in the field of cooking, he at least knew was that whatever Hitoka was making would taste simply amazing once it's finished. He grinned silently, holding his breath as he prepared to surprise his wife.

Stifling a laugh escaping from his throat, he whispered a wheezing “I’m home~” in her ear.

She screamed. And... nO- despite her being absolutely adorable, the demonic sound that escaped from her wasn't the cutesy kind of scream that you oftentimes see in films. It wasn't necessarily loud, but it was extremely high-pitched, to his surprise. The scream lasted for a solid second before quieting down to a handful of curses from the rather short female as soon as she saw the person who startled her.

She gave him a rather irritated smile, an obvious vein popping out from her neck as she crossed her arms waiting for some sort of reaction or apology from the taller male. Kei, on the other hand, just stared with his mouth slightly agape.

There was something rather out of the ordinary about this... foreign scenery standing in front of him.

He took one look at her and tried his utter best to keep himself from fucking laughing. “This is...” he snickered, keeping a palm over his lips. “Quite amusing.” He commented with a smile hidden beneath his palm. When he first entered the kitchen, he was much too intoxicated by the aroma of the food that he didn't noticed his wife's rather... new appearance. He took another quick glance at her as he nearly choked himself from trying to keep his laugh from escaping his dry throat, for Hitoka looked absolutely haggard. Her normally well-kept hair looked more like a bird's nest at this point, although her iconic side-ponytail was still intact, much to his shock. Brandishing a grease-covered spatula like some discount fairy godmother, she was wearing oversized clothing underneath a light blue apron that he bought for her since he knew just how much she loved to work in the kitchen despite him saying over and over that he could take over if she wanted to.

"Hey.." he started, composing himself as he went, "what's with the get-up?" Hitoka simply huffed in response, trying to hide the dust of pink that was slowly spreading across her pale face.

"...Welcome home." she simply said, looking at him before turning, "And in my defense, I wasn't expecting you to be home this early." A small laugh escaped her as she flicked his forehead with her free hand and proceeded to go back to handling whatever she was previously doing in the kitchen.

"Did I bother you that much?" he asked with a smirk as he reached for the shirt folded neatly on top of the table right in front of him.

"Hmm, I wonder.." she replied, re-tying her hair in response.

After much bickering and forehead-flicking, the two of them quieted down and decided to simply accompany each other in silence. Hitoka was tossing around heaps of food inside the large cooking pot as Kei helped out by chopping additional ingredients and spices from their stash. When their bodies occasionally brush against one another, both of them would be warmed by the gentle reminder of each other's presence after a wave of familiarity surrounds them. It was comforting to say the least, because even that much was enough for them. From time to time, Kei would absentmindedly give a small smile as he takes notice of how his and Hitoka's hands would accidentally touch during the whole process. Likewise, she would sometimes even sneak glances at Kei, as if trying to assure herself that he really was there beside her and not just a figment of her overactive imagination.

From an outsider's perspective, one might often think that their relationship is something that people should be concerned about given their common lack of experience and perhaps even communication. But one thing you simply must know about the couple is that both of these individuals are people of few words. And for them, it simply meant that being with each other was more than enough.

Hitoka paused as a memory flashed. Eyes misting, she set the spatula aside and leaned on the kitchen counter, crossing her arms as she simply stood there trying to recall familiar fleeting moments that had long since came to pass. She quickly glanced at Kei who so dedicatedly chopped up vegetables and spices in a surprisingly elegant manner.

For someone who acts like a child every now and then, he sure does have some style.

As the sun snuggled behind the mountains and the day began to cease, golden rays that were left behind spilled through their home's glass windows, gently bouncing off from Kei's hair, making him seem more pure and angelic than he already looked like. She caught his eyes as he simply glanced at her, only noticing now that her hands have stopped moving. He settled down the knife. Curiosity in his voice, he asked what she was thinking about.

"Remember that time? When we first met after graduating?" she asks, a gentle smile touching her pale pink lips.

After her upperclassmen had graduated on her first year of high school, she and the other first-years had become extremely close, to say the least. The club had only increased in members when they made it to the nationals, but like all good memories, this one had to meet its eventual end. She recalled the time where it all began. Five years ago, After they had graduated from Karasuno high, Yachi hadn't been able to keep in touch with anyone outside family as she started becoming extremely busy reviewing for the college entrance exams.

“You can't be a manager forever.”  they said. “Start thinking about your future.” they said.

So she did.

The extreme pressure of having to maintain her status was practically tethering at the edge of insanity as she furiously, yet diligently, studied to the extreme. The days had gone by quickly, but during the time she spent prioritizing the exams, the more her relationship with the team grew distant. It was only after she got the acceptance letter when she realized that she had no one close to share her joy with.

Life goes on, and you let people go. Although she's always been aware that she wasn't the talkative or interactive type, the feeling of emptiness surrounding her started growing as she yearned for the feeling of home that she grew so familiar with since the day she first stepped onto the polished floorboards of the volleyball gym.

And she blamed herself for letting the distance grow.

College life didn't really help either. During the start of semester, she had decided to keep as much as a low profile as she could. Despite her outward appearance being childish, bubbly, or perhaps even annoying, she was actually quite aware of the effect she had on people... And it really wasn't something she was comfortable with.

Her first year had gone by without a hitch. Her class had started forming small groups and circles since the first day, and despite a few friendly people inviting her to hang out with them, she would apologetically refuse to do so after using "I need to study" and "I'm a bit busy" as the usual excuses. So by the end of the year, she was all alone with no one to talk to. Although, as lonely as it sounds like, it wasn't as if it had actually bothered her. In truth, she was comfortable with herself, and that allowed her to get plenty of things done. But.. she really did miss the volleyball team.

---4 years ago---

And as cliché as it sounds, the first time they met after high school was during spring on their second year of college, two years after they had graduated.

It was during the school festival when her professor asked her to bring a box of some materials to a department at the far end of the college campus. In order to get there, you had to pass by a ton of classrooms, at least three different staff offices, five flights of stairs, and a weird statue that seemed extremely out of place. Although she reluctantly agreed, she realized that doing this would give her enough free time to stroll around some of the brightly decorated booths without being told to help around every five minutes being the “reliable classmate” she was. As a response, she asked the professor if he needed help with anything else; so by the time the classroom door had shut behind her, she was holding not one, but three different boxes as she made her way to the other department.

After some time had passed, she eventually arrived at the almost empty classroom where she was supposed to drop off the materials. Well, emphasis on the word 'almost'. Sitting inside was a teacher whom she got rather close to during the time she spent studying inside the college library. The woman who was arranging test papers inside worked as a literature professor and a librarian at the same time. She noticed Hitoka standing outside the classroom and stood up as she opened the door and gestured her to enter the classroom with a kind smile. As usual, she and the teacher engaged in idle conversation over cups of tea that the mysterious woman had somehow produced in thin air. After setting down the items, she prepared to leave until she heard an “oh!” behind her. The older female beckoned her to come closer.

“Ah, Hitoka, come here for a second,” the teacher said with a smile.

“What is it? Is there any chance that you need my help?” she asked politely.

“No no no, nothing of the sort,” she waving her hand, “I'd like to give you an extra copy of this department's library key.” she said, fishing out the said item from her very full right pocket, mumbling as she went.

“Oh? But why?”

“Hmm, I wonder..” the teacher mused as she held out the key “I suppose you could think of it as being the only member in a club?” a hint of sadness laced the kind lady's voice. “Well, just make sure to lock up every time you leave the library, understood?”

---Present---

“Wait wait wait, so you basically had a free pass to the library since second year?” Kei asked in disbelief, his childish side showing, “some of us actually had to pay every time, now that seems a bit unfair, don't you think?

“And I used to pay thrice the amount because of how often I used to go there. Can't help being the favorite, I suppose.” she said with a small shrug, a hint of smugness in her tone.

“But still.”

“If it weren't for that key, we wouldn't have hung out now, wouldn't we?” she said casually, wiggling her fingers in the air.

After another round of bickering, she had finally sat Kei down, allowing her to start placing food she cooked on the table. Just as she's done it tons of times before, Hitoka easily balanced three large plates filled with food on her arms and served them in light movements despite the actual weight of the dishes. Barbecued crisp meat, seasoned fresh leaves, and an assortment of bite-sized rice rolls were to be seen on top of the plates which made Kei's mouth water just a teeny bit. Glancing at him, Hitoka snorted, setting the dishes down carefully as she proceeded to get some drinking glasses and utensils.

“Ah, this might take a while actually,” she said after eyeing something inside a small pot, “Do you want a bath first? I opened it just a while ago.”

“Hmm,” he playfully mused, “but what if I want y-”

“Don't. Even think about finishing that line.” she said, an obvious smile forming, “As if I'd say something that cliché.”

“Ehhh, but-”

“Do you want me to take away Dino?” Dino was a plushie that lived on top of their bed because Kei usually sleeps with the small thing beside him.

“Fine fine, I'll stop,” he said laughing, “but this reminds so much of that first time we met in the library, you know?”

---4 years ago---

Exams week was fast approaching and Tsukishima knew that if he didn't get started on his studies, there's a possibility that he might overwork himself later on. More often that not, he'd receive “compliments” about being better than most students despite his reputation of being rather laid back or apathetic. Sometimes he'd reply with an strained smile saying something along the lines of “Ahaha, I don't think that's true at all. Maybe I just study longer than the average person?” and would proceed to slip on his headphones in annoyance.

In truth, it felt quite suffocating when he received backhanded compliments like those. It was like attributing all his hard work to just talent alone- and never once mentioning the time and effort that was needed to reach the success of where he is today, and-

He sighed. Maybe I'm just sensitive.

Despite the time that had passed, he felt like he was affected by those kinds of words way more than his former teammates were. His heart really wasn't into academics even though he excelled at it, but to people like his teammates who work themselves to the bone being labeled as “just talented” felt insulting, to say the least. Because he himself saw how dedicated they were to the sport (unlike me, he thought), and people haphazardly calling it their talent was like saying they didn't do anything to achieve the skill they have at present.

Ah it doesn't matter, you're still in touch with most of them anyway.

Most of them.

He took his time thinking about where he could possibly find peace and quiet inside the campus... if there even was such a place. Although his department would likely be off limits considering how a lot of people knew who he was, he couldn't exactly study in the hallways of other departments since he doesn't really belong there. Maybe a nearby café? But he might meet some of his peers there.. How about the cafeteria? No one really stays there, but it is full of of noise--

Oh. The library?

An odd choice on his part since no one actually uses it, but why not? It fits his standards perfectly.

In any case, I should probably start now, he thought. Standing outside the rather unimpressive exterior of the library, he started doubting if this was actually a good choice. I mean, look at it. It was the only unlit area of the school like it was trying to purposefully ward off people. The doors were covered in grime from decades of being left unused, and the rust forming on the handles were layered in oil because apparently the school couldn't afford new ones.

Let's just get this over with.

Slightly cringing at the rusty sound the hinges made, he slowly pushed open the heavy wooden doors before he was blinded by the bright rays of sun that filled the area.

Towering shelves of odd shapes and sizes filled the grand room. Although layers of dust had accumulated between the wooden floorboards, not a single speck could be seen on the thick hardbound books that had occupied every corner of the library. Wooden tables were neatly arranged in parallel groups accompanied by an assortment of random chairs and cushions placed haphazardly that kind of gave the “neat but chaotic” feeling. Looking up, you could see orange lights flickering in warm hues, radiating a friendly aura to those who wish to spend their time sitting inside this room that might understandably be mistaken for something akin to paradise. But what was most impressive of all was the sleek baby grand piano sitting at the very middle of the room, perfectly homey amidst the calm interior of the sunlit library.

In awe, he examined the room, wondering how such a beautiful place was left unnoticed by so many people. Wandering amidst the tall shelves, he spotted someone moving from a slightly hidden area behind several sections. He slowly made his way there, wanting to see just what this person was doing, before he saw who it was.

Of all people, it was Yachi.

He swiftly inhaled out of surprise as he tried to convince himself that the person sitting in front of him wasn't who he thought she was. On the other hand, her eyes simply widened as she processed his face, holding a book that was dangerously close to being dropped. Tsukishima's mouth was agape for a while before he managed a stuttering “h-hey..?” which earned him a wordless stare from his former manager.

She tried to hold herself back from reacting to his uncharacteristically awkward attempt of greeting her. When he realized this, a throaty laugh escaped him just before they both fell into a misfit of giggles. Who would've thought they would meet again after their graduation? He smiled and occupied the seat before her as they each caught up in the odd chain of events that was their lives, talking just like they did before as if not a day had gone by since they last saw each other.

---Present---

“...And we just started hanging out after that.” Hitoka said as she took a bite from her plate, pointing her fork at him afterwards, “didn't we use the library more often, too?”

“We did, actually. It's probably because we weren't there to use the books.”

“Oh that's true.”

“Except during exam weeks when we both had to tutor each other.”

“More like you tutoring me since I'm pretty slow.”

“Hmm..” Kei contemplated, “yeah that's accurate.”

“...Ahaha,” she said darkly, “you were supposed to say something like 'that's not true!' to comfort me.”

“I don't lie now, do I?”

And Hitoka just gave him the surprised pikachu face before slamming her hand down the table saying something along the lines of “you take that back!” while trying desperately to defend herself from Kei's casual, yet, witty comebacks. The cycle of bickering had repeated several times, and suddenly both of them were engaged in a heated argument about... something. The two people sitting on the table was a nonchalant Kei eating peacefully, and a stammering Hitoka blushing from embarrassment. If anyone outside so happened to look inside their house, they would see two idiots arguing for absolutely no reason.

“Now now, let's stop this shall we?” Kei said with a smile, completely ignoring the gawking Hioka in front of him. “It's getting rather late so we should probably get some sleep” he said while stacking plates and glasses on top of each other. He  silently walked towards the sink, holding the stack carefully until one of the glasses decided to yeet itself and fall to the floor. So of course, Hitoka wanting to have something to hold over Kei, took advantage of this and decided to make fun of him.

Turning, he smiled sweetly despite the annoyed aura surrounding him.

“I think this conversation had gone past its initial purpose don't you think?” He stepped towards the shorter female, eyes glinting with hidden intent. Taking advantage of the immense height difference, Kei looked rather intimidating as he towered himself over her. He slowly walked towards Hitoka who stood still in response. He placed his hand on her shoulder and said:

“We're going to sleep now, correct?”

“Yes, sir.” She said.

“Good.” Tone changing, he returned back to the calm person Hitoka’s used to seeing.

Their large bedroom was usually quite dark as soon as night falls, but today, however, the moonlit sky illuminated the room, sending wisps of light bouncing off different surfaces, making the room shine in the colors of the night sky. The neatly arranged white sheets of the large bed in the middle of the room was immediately wrinkled as the couple decided to lay side by side in the middle, peacefully drifting off to sleep.

Well, at least Kei did.

Some time had passed before Hitoka heard Kei softly snoring beside her. His soft hair was tousled by all his moving while he softly mumbled in his sleep. She watched him quietly in the darkness, stifling a giggle so as not to wake him up. Although she was oftentimes extremely tired after working at home and handling the chores, she felt an unfamiliar feeling of wakedness that she hadn't felt in a long time. Not wanting to tire herself more, she then decided to get up and read something instead to help her sleep. Slowly reaching for the book atop a nearby desk, she carefully took the said item and began reading under the clear, moonlit sky.

…

Ahaha.

Hitoka felt disappointed in herself.

One more page, she said. I'll be done in a few minutes, she said.

Except that clearly wasn't the case, seeing how it's already 7 in the damn morning.

This is what books do to you. You pick them up, thinking that it's a harmless object that casually passes the time until you check the clock and see that a decade has already passed. Books mess with your sense of time, and she knew that all too well given her habit of reading every so often.

It even messes with your sense of hearing. Rain had been pouring for quite some time now, but obviously she was too busy to notice. And although Kei was a deep sleeper, the loud  gushing sounds of rain (that's apparently inaudible to Hitoka) had stirred him awake. He slowly sat up and met his wife's baggy eyes looking back at him while she held a thick book in her hands that clearly indicated what she'd been doing the past few hours.

“Ahaha..” his wife laughed nervously, obviously guilty about what she's done, “good morning..?”

He just stared at her blankly in response.

“I'm not even going to ask.” he said stoically as he pulled over the blankets and went back to sleep.

Hitoka pretended to be insulted as she buried him in pillows and placed a small stuffed Dino on top of the fortress she had made on top of him, as if marking her territory. She huffed proudly which furrowed her eyebrows just a little bit. But when he didn't react, she just assumed he was asleep and went back to reading the book right beside him, deciding to accompany him until he woke up again.

When the rain had quieted down to a gentle drizzle she quietly asked:

“Hey, are you awake?”

Amidst the amount of pillows balancing on top of him, he met her eyes a second time and can't help but think how in the world did such a sweet person end up with someone salty as him? He’d been nothing but apathetic to her when they first met, so it truly is a wonder as to how and why they ended up together. Eyes wetting, he reached for her, long arms escaping the fortress and-

He hugged her.

And that was enough.

No I-love-yous, kisses, or words were exchanged. She understood. And that was all that matters. Cradling him gently, she let him stay in that position until he pulled away with a peaceful smile on his face

---4 years ago---

“Hey Tsukishima...” Yachi started.

“Mm?”

“Isn't spring supposed to be the season of cherry blossoms and youth?”

“Mhmm.”

“Then why..” she said, pointing outside, “is it raining so hard?”

“I was gonna ask the same thing.”

Ever since they started hanging out, the library had become some sort of a special place to the both of them. It served as a change of environment from the bleak sceneries they're used to seeing day by day; as if it was like a gentle reminder that there was a place for just the both of them.

But even the homey feeling of the library couldn't permanently ward off the glum aura that came with the rain. Which is why both of them were standing right outside the building.

Yachi sighed. Neither of them had brought an umbrella since the weather forecast said that the chances of it raining today were slim to none. So what were they supposed to do now?

“Hey, let's just go back inside,” she said motioning him to come with her, “Maybe we can borrow- hey Tsukishima?” she tugged on his sleeve, but he hadn't moved a single inch. “Come come, let's go inside now”

“Say..” He turned, looking straight at her. “Have you ever played in the rain as a kid?”

“Huh? My mom was strict so no I haven't. Why do you ask?

Without a word, Tsukishima cheekily smirked in response. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her under the rain while Yachi's usually unreadable face gave way to one that just looked at him in surprise.

“What are you-!”

“Now is the time to do it, no? Rain is very rare after all.”

Tsukishima simply chuckled as he held her wrist tightly, not wanting to pass up the opportunity to make memories under the sky of white velvet whose tears invite a cascade of umbrellas to color their gray world. The people around them stared, silently judging the two odd individuals under the rain: a girl protesting but not pulling away, and a guy determinely leading her with a warm smile plastered on his face.

They were just surrounded by so many people. And when you're surrounded by so many people, it can be lonelier than when you're by yourself. You can be in a huge crowd, but if you don't feel like you can trust anyone or talk to anybody, you feel like you're really alone. But in this moment, as the two of them held hands laughing, it didn't matter if they were the only two people in the world, for they felt that each other's company was more than what the world could offer.

---Present---

“That was so cringey.” Kei said, disbelief written all over his face after he recalled the memory with his wife. “'Rain is very rare after all'-- who says that??”

“You did,” she snickered, only causing him to bury his face even further.

“I'm done. I'm so done.” he said, standing up, “I'll make some coffee to clear my thoughts.” Deeply inhaling, he left the room with a twinge of red coloring his face. Following him, she stood up as well, preparing to face the day ahead of her.

Tags: @neoheros @coophi @perruvianily