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lady-of-ocs · 21 days ago

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Shiratorizawa's Volleyball Star - Challenge

I love my darling Yuki, and when I love an OC, I put them through angst <3 Lots of OCs in this one, but I came up with this idea just based around the first part.

Content Warning: Ableism around muteness

She’s about to walk into the locker room when she hears them.

“Hey, have you guys memorized what all of Tsukamoto’s whistles and hand signals mean?” one of the first years asks. Another sighs and Yuki pauses outside the door.

“No way! There are so many of them! It’s way too complicated! We’re trying to focus on the court, we can’t get distracted by Tsukamoto whistling or snapping her fingers at us,” she says. Yuki stares at the door.

“She seems nice and all, but god. It’s so tedious to have to learn all this stuff just because she can’t talk!”

“She’s good and everything, but…Yeah, it’s really hard. She’s an extra challenge on the court, and there are already enough of those.”

“Why are we being punished for her not being able to do something? I bet no other team has to deal with trying to communicate with a mute player!” Yuki lifts her hand, touching her throat. Her bag drops off her shoulder and hits the floor, and she turns from the door and walks away from it.

“Tsukamoto?” She hears her captain call her name, but doesn’t answer. Her right hand is still busy, fingers brushing over her useless throat. “Tsukamoto!” She leaves the gym, stepping out into the cool spring air. She doesn’t think about where she’s going, just walks. Away from the court where she’s apparently just a burden on her team. She thinks she hears someone call her name, but she doesn’t know if she’s imagining it. When she stops, there isn’t a particular reason for it, and she finds herself sliding down onto the nearest bench. Her fingers continue to brush her throat, and she stares at the ground. She’s sort of numb at first, but as her fingers continue to stroke over her throat, above where her vocal cords are, her face scrunches up and her lips tremble. She’s always been content with her way of speaking, never feeling that she needed to undergo treatment to be able to speak. Most people she knows have been perfectly fine with her methods of communication. Her friends and her girlfriend all know some amount of sign language and, though he very rarely actually communicates in sign, Tendou has learned a lot too. She never considered that it could be a burden for all of these people to learn another language or take the time to read whatever she’s written down or typed up on her phone. She knew it was an adjustment for her team, but none of her upperclassmen or classmates ever complained. Do they whisper to each other like those first years do? Do they complain about her muteness when she isn’t there? Do her friends get tired of having to watch her hands move instead of being able to just listen to her? Her hand squeezes slightly against her throat.

“Hey, Tsuka, I saw you walking-“ Yuki looks up at the voice on instinct, and Tendou’s eyes widen when he sees her face. The bright, almost performative cheer is gone immediately, and he sinks down on the bench next to her. “Yuki, what’s wrong?” Her lips quiver again and she looks away. She only manages to sign “I overheard some-“ before her hands suddenly freeze, and she stares at them. Her hands, her throat, they’re the very problem she’s upset about. She curls her hands into fists and lowers them. She wishes she could make a sound. Even if she couldn’t form words, something, anything, would be better than this nothingness. Tendou gently sets his hand on her arm, giving it a soothing squeeze.

“Talk to me, Yuki,” he says, much quieter and softer than before. She sniffles, squeezing her eyes shut as she signs something different from before.

“Am I a burden?” she asks. His hand tightens slightly on her arm.

“Why would you ask that?” he asks. He shifts, pulling one of her hands to him and holding it between both of his. “Yuki, no. You’ve never been a burden. Who-“ Tendou pauses, and when Yuki looks at him, she can see his eyes narrowed in thought. Calculating. The gears turn behind his eyes, and she can almost hear the click when he understands. The pit in her stomach grows when his eyes snap back to her. “The new first years said something, didn’t they?” Yuki frowns deeply.

“Tendou…” Her free hand stalls and he squeezes the one he’s holding.

“Don’t worry, Yuki, I’ll talk some sense into them-“ He goes to get up, but she grabs his wrist and holds him there.

“Satori.” She’s never signed his given name before, so she mouths it instead. His eyes widen slightly. “Please don’t.” Tendou looks down at her for a moment, then slides back down, a little closer to her this time, and nods.

“Okay. I’ll stay here,” he says. She releases his wrist and he takes the opportunity to gently take her hand again, squeezing it. “What did they say, Yuki?” She looks at him for a moment, considering. After a moment, she sighs, shoulders sagging. She looks away, pulling her hand from his grasp so she can speak.

“They said it’s tedious to learn what all of my signs and whistles mean on the court. And I make it harder to play because I distract them.” Her hands stall slightly as she thinks about what else was said. “They feel like they’re being punished by having to learn just because I can’t talk.” A beat passes.

“Yuki, that’s total crap! They’re wrong! Nothing they said is-“

“What’s going on?” They both turn and look up, and Ushijima is looking down at them with his usual vaguely angry looking expression.

“Some of the first years on the women’s team were saying a bunch of crap about Yuki,” Tendou says, and Yuki slaps his arm. She looks up at Ushijima and frantically starts signing at him.

“It’s not a big deal, I’m fine-“ He walks closer and looks down at her.

“Most people do not cry when they are fine,” he says simply, clearly examining her face. She looks away and ducks her head. After a prolonged silence, Ushijima sits down on her other side, giving her more space than Tendou. He doesn’t touch her or try to offer comfort, just sits. “What was said?” Her frown deepens as she looks at the ground. However, she realizes that this will be one of the few times where she’ll get an unbiased answer. Tendou is her friend, so, of course, he’d try to comfort her. She looks up at Ushijima, tapping his arm to get him to look at her.

“Does my muteness make me a burden on the court?” she asks bluntly. He blinks at her. Right, she’s not sure he knows JSL the way that Tendou does. And she left her phone in her bag, so she can’t exactly write her question down. As she’s about to turn to Tendou to request that he translate, Ushijima speaks up.

“You asked if you are a problem on the court because you cannot speak?” he asks. She waves her hand in a so-so motion since he’s only a little off, and he nods and hums, clearly considering the question seriously. After a few long beats, he looks back at her. “You are a unique challenge on the court. Your teammates must learn to communicate with you in ways that they are not used to. But it also gives your team a unique advantage because you are more difficult for opponents to understand as well. If no one on the other side knows how to speak like you do, then they will not be able to predict your next move. You’re both an additional challenge and an important weapon, but you are not a problem.” His tone is flat and matter-of-fact, and it makes something settle in her stomach. She asked Ushijima because he’s honest and blunt. If he believed she was a problem, he would’ve said so. But he didn’t. A challenge, yes, but not a problem. She blinks back tears and taps his arm so he’ll look back at her.

“Thank you,” she says. Ushijima looks at her for a moment, then nods.

“See, Yuki? Those first years don’t know what they’re talking about,” Tendou says. Yuki glances at him and he grins at her, patting her back, and she can’t help but smile a little, too.

“Tsukamoto!” She immediately straightens, gaze jumping toward the sound of her captain’s voice. Hayakawa Masuyo comes marching over, annoyance seeping from all 160 centimeters of her. “What are you doing leaving practice like that? We hadn’t even gotten started yet.” Yuki hesitates. She doesn’t want to get the first years into trouble, but just telling Hayakawa that she needed air—or some other similar excuse—won’t go over well. The bench makes a noise when Ushijima stands up, and Yuki’s gaze immediately snaps up toward him.

“Tsukamoto overheard your first years talking poorly about-” Yuki is on her feet making shushing noises immediately, waving her hands at Ushijima and signing for him to stop talking. Ushijima looks down at her blankly, and she hears Tendou rise as well.

“I don’t think she wants you to answer for her, Ushiwaka,” he says, thankfully backing Yuki up. It almost makes Yuki relieved, but Hayakawa quickly swats her back and stands in front of Ushijima. She looks up at the man standing almost 30 centimeters over her, hands on her hips and a firm expression on her face.

“Talk, Ushijima,” she demands. Ushijima blinks at her, then glances over at Yuki. She gives him a pleading look, and he seems to consider her for a moment before looking back down at Hayakawa.

“You should make sure that your team is properly utilizing Tsukamoto and understands her importance. Specifically the first years,” he says. Hayakawa narrows her eyes slightly, then glances at Yuki.

“What did they say, Tsukamoto?” Yuki looks away, and Hayakawa sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose. “Fine. I’ll just ask. Let’s get back to the gym, shall we?” Yuki glances back at her.

“Yes, captain,” she says. Hayakawa turns to start marching back in the direction of the girl’s gym, and Yuki glances at Ushijima and nods at him, then turns to follow her captain. Her wrist is caught and she looks back. Tendou releases her wrist to raise his hands and sign at her.

“Don’t listen to the first years. They don’t know what they’re missing,” he says. She blinks at him for a moment, then smiles and steps forward to hug him. He stills for a second, but quickly wraps his arms around her and squeezes her.

“Tsukamoto!” Yuki pulls back from Tendou and smiles at him, waving a little before she turns and hurries after her captain.

It’s been a few days since the incident, and everything seems to be fine. Yuki’s not sure if Hayakawa talked to the first years as they’ve acted the same as before, but she doesn’t ask. She’d prefer if the whole thing went unspoken of from now on.

“Alright, circle up, ladies,” Coach Miyata calls, clapping her hands loudly to grab the girls’ attention. Yuki joins her teammates in their semicircle in front of their coach, massaging her fingers as she stands there. “Today, we’re going to try out an exercise with the boys team. Apparently Hayakawa and the boy’s captain, Ushijima, have been discussing it, and I already cleared it with Coach Washijo. You can leave your stuff here. We’ll come back here once the exercise is over.” Yuki’s curiosity is piqued. What kind of exercise would Ushijima and Hayakawa be discussing for their teams to practice together? One of the other second years, Akagi, raises her hand.

“What kind of exercise, coach?” she asks. Miyata looks over at Hayakawa and gestures.

“Care to explain?” Hayakawa nods and moves to stand in front of the coach, looking back at her teammates.

“It’s come to my attention that some of the first years are still struggling with learning and understanding Tsukamoto’s hand signals and whistles which, as we third and second years know, are very important to our strategies.” Oh god. Not sensing Yuki’s dread, the other second and third years nod in agreement, some of them glancing at their underclassmen in disapproval. “Ushijima and I decided to test both of our teams. The two of us will stand out and observe as team captains, and Tsukamoto will swap places with Ohira, the boy’s vice captain and one of their wing spikers. The boys will test how quickly they can adapt to Tsukamoto’s communication. We’ll primarily be playing with our first years to test how well they can understand Tsukamoto. The more you understand, the less of a challenge it will be to read her signals and know what the next move will be. We’ll need one second or third year to volunteer to play with the first years alongside Ohira. Understand that you will be at a disadvantage, but winning isn’t the point of the exercise. The point is communication. Any more questions?” Yuki’s hand shoots up and Hayakawa raises an eyebrow at her.

“Do I get a say in this?”

“Nope. Any other questions?”

“This is totally unfair! That weird blocker guy is on their team and he’s, like, her best friend! He’s going to be able to talk to her easily!” Fujioka, one of the first years, complains, her voice high with a whine. Hayakawa looks toward her, setting her hands on her hips.

“Exactly my point. The team who understands Tsukamoto is the team with the advantage, and the team who doesn’t has a disadvantage. Which team would you prefer to be on?” The first years go quiet, and Hayakawa nods, then glances over at their coach.

“Let’s be going, then,” Miyata says. There’s a chorus of “yes coach,” then the group starts moving toward the door. Yuki hurries after Hayakawa, snapping her fingers frantically. When her captain looks back at her, Yuki holds up her hands.

“Why are you doing this? The first years are just going to resent me for it!” she says. Hayakawa sighs, reaching out to put her hand on Yuki’s back and guide her forward.

“Listen, Tsuka, they need to understand you no matter how we manage to accomplish it. Even if none of them play as starters this year, they’re more than likely going to play next year, when I’m gone and you’re a third year. And you’re the keystone of our play style, especially when it comes to offense. We revolve around you. The sooner the first years understand that, the sooner they’ll be able to play effectively alongside us,” she says. Yuki purses her lips. She understands that some teams rally around one player on the court—that’s how Nekoma operates with Kozume, as far as she knows—but she doesn’t want to be resented for it. The first years will never be able to play well with her if they can’t understand or respect her. She looks down at her captain, lips pursed and eyes uncertain.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” she asks slowly. Hayakawa pats her back.

“Worst case scenario, the first years get humbled and you get the opportunity to play with Tendou. And if the first years get mad? I’ll let them bring it to me, and then I’ll make them run laps if I don’t like what they have to say,” she says. Yuki sighs, a pit in her stomach as the team makes its way toward the boy’s gym.

If the first years weren’t so afraid of pissing off Reon and Ishida, Yuki’s pretty sure they’d be screaming in frustration right about now. Tendou blocked Fujioka’s spike…Again, and she’s pretty unhappy about it. She’s practically seething as she gets back into position, and Yuki glances over her shoulder to watch as Goshiki prepares to serve. While the boy’s bangs are a little questionable (and he’s not the only one), he has a lot of passion for the sport and clearly wants to prove himself to Ushijima and the rest of the team. She can appreciate his ambitions. She also glances at Tendou, who’s been swapped out now that he’d be in the back row, and he winks at her. As Goshiki serves, she focuses on the ball. She’s in the front left corner of the court, her favorite position. The ball sails over the net and Reon receives, bumping it to the first year setter, Machi. She puts up an easy set for Fujioka, who practically radiates frustration and aggression. Her spike is hard, but messy, and Kawanishi manages a one touch, which those around him call it out. Yuki lets out two long whistles, one high and one low, and she takes a few steps back as she glances to the other side of the court. She spots her opening and looks back to the ball, watching as Shirabu sets it toward her, not bothering to call her name since she called for the ball with her earlier whistle. She runs toward the net, leaping up and raising her right arm in preparation, left arm extending in front of her. She watches the ball sail into the spot she wants it, right arm still back, and Fujioka and Machi jump up to block her. At the last moment, her left arm shifts and she uses her left hand to slam the ball over in a sharp cut shot. Ishida dives to receive it, but it hits the floor by the time she gets there.

“Fake out!” Tendou singsongs loudly, and Yuki feels a burst of pride. Céline made that move popular in their second year of middle school, and it practically became her signature move, but Yuki really likes using it, too.

“Nice kill!” Semi calls from the side, and Yuki shoots him a grin and signs a thank you. A pissed shriek makes her jump, and she whips her head back around. Fujioka is glaring daggers at Hayakawa, practically shaking with rage.

“Are you enjoying this? Are we just your personal fucking clown show? You’re torturing us with this bullshit, and for what? For your mute charity case?” Behind her, Yuki can hear Tendou shout an objecting “hey!” but she holds up a hand, silently telling him to leave it alone. “You set this whole thing up just to make her look good while we look stupid because we can’t understand her! We didn’t sign up to learn a second language, we signed up to play volleyball! If you’re going to bend to her will and try to make us do the same, then fuck you! I hope you lose at nationals so you can see how much she weighs you down. Maybe I’ll consider coming back once you open your fucking eyes and kick her off the team.” When Fujioka finishes her rant, the gym is silent. Hayakawa drops her arms and steps forward, mouth opening, but Coach Miyata steps forward and sets a hand on her shoulder. Hayakawa glances at her, and she must see something there because she recoils backward. Miyata walks toward Fujioka and levels a harsh, frigid gaze on her, arms tucked behind her back.

“If that is the way that you’re going to act when you lose a point, then I don’t want you on my team. Go collect your things from the gym, and don’t bother returning.” Fujioka’s eyes widen, and she steps back.

“Excuse me?” Miyata’s expression doesn’t move.

“Fujioka Etsuko, you are officially banned from club activities until your graduation. Should you attempt to enter my gym after today, I will be sure to bring up your behavior to the headmaster.” Fujioka looks at her like she’s grown a second head.

“You’re banning me for the rest of high school? Over her? Holy shit…You know what? Fuck you! When Interhigh is over, you’ll be begging me to come back to the team. Machi is the best setter you have, Ogata is the only libero you have, Sakuma is your tallest blocker, and I am more of an ace than Tsukamoto will ever be! You can’t play without us.” Fujioka huffs, tilting her chin up at Miyata before whipping around. “Come on, girls.” She’s almost to the door by the time that she realizes that no one is following her, and she stops and snaps around, looking at the other first years in disbelief. “What the hell are you still standing there for?”

“Fujioka, just go. You’re embarrassing yourself,” Ishida says, crossing her arms. Fujioka takes a step back toward everyone.

“Shut it, suck up. If you were faster, we wouldn’t even be here right now,” she snaps, not taking her eyes off the other first years, who avert their eyes and squirm a little. “I thought we agreed that we didn’t want to be on a team with Tsukamoto.”

“We were…Annoyed, and tired. It’s not like we hate her. She didn’t choose to be mute, Fujioka,” Sakuma says, eyes trained on the gym floor as she rubs one arm. Ogata moves to Sakuma’s side, setting a hand on her arm in show of support.

“She’s right. Don’t you think Tsukamoto gets frustrated that she can’t just yell? Especially when people like you treat her like she’s somehow lesser just because she can’t talk. I admit that we complained about having to learn her signals on the court, but that doesn’t mean we want her off the team. She deserves to be here a hell of a lot more than we do. If you want to scream and insult her and get banned from the team…” She shakes her head. “No way. You’re on your own.” Fujioka looks like she’s about to scream again.

“Machi?” The first year setter has crossed her arms over her chest, and she doesn’t look at Fujioka as she shakes her head. Fujioka scoffs incredulously, then shakes her head.

“Oh fuck all of you,” she mutters, swiftly turning and storming out. Yuki stares at the door for a moment, then turns to look at Miyata. When her coach looks back at her, Yuki begins signing an apology.

“Don’t tell me you’re sorry. You didn’t do anything wrong,” Miyata says, waving a dismissive hand at the girl. Yuki gestures toward the door that Fujioka just left through.

“Tsuka, she could be the best player in the world and we wouldn’t want her on the team if she was going to act like that,” Hayakawa says. Ishida ducks under the net and approaches Yuki, setting her hands on the other girl’s shoulders.

“Nobody talks to you like that, Yuki, especially not any teammate of ours,” she says, smiling. Yuki stares at her for a moment, then signs a deeply grateful thank you.

“I apologize for my player’s behavior, Coach Washio. How would you like to proceed with the game?” Coach Miyata says. Yuki turns her head, watching as Washio flicks a dismissive hand.

“Sub in another player. We haven’t even finished the first set,” he says. Miyata nods and makes her way off the court, just barely nodding her head toward the group of girls on the sidelines.

“Akagi.”

“Yes, coach!” Akagi quickly unzips her jacket and hands it to one of the other girls, jogging onto the court. Yuki feels another squeeze on her shoulders and glances back at Ishida.

“Nice kill. I didn’t get to say it before,” she says. Yuki smiles at her, and Ishida smiles back before returning to her side of the net.

“It’s their ball! Let’s get that point back!” Hayakawa calls, clapping her hands as the volleyball is passed under the net. It’s returned to Goshiki, and everyone falls back into position.

Tendou is as animated as ever, and Yuki simply tilts her head as she listens to him, water bottle in hand.

“It was actually a lot closer than I thought it would be. I think having Reon and those two older girls helped, though,” he says. He reaches down to playfully poke Yuki in the ribs. “But Tsukamoto Yuki kicked ass, of course. It’s what you can expect from Shiratorizawa’s own Volleyball Queen.” Yuki swats his hand away, grinning.

“Shut up, Tendou,” she says, tilting her water bottle toward him like a weapon. He raises his hands in surrender, but she sees the moment when he notices something over her shoulder. He straightens his posture to stand at his full height, and his gaze is unmoving from whatever he’s looking at. Yuki turns to see what has him looking like a guard dog with its hackles raised.

“Tsukamoto!” Yuki blinks in surprise, watching as the three remaining first years bow deeply in front of her. “We’re sorry for talking about you behind your back!” She stares at them for a moment, then hurries to tap Sakuma’s shoulder. When the tall girl glances at her, Yuki waves a hand for them to stand up straight, and Sakuma taps the other two as she straightens. Yuki turns to glance at Tendou, waving her hands at him.

“Come translate for me!” Tendou glances between Yuki and the first years, then sighs and walks over to stand beside her, crossing his arms and looking down at her. She looks back at the first years and starts signing, hoping Tendou will take the cue to translate for the first years.

“She doesn’t accept your apology,” he says bluntly. She elbows him harshly in the ribs. “Ow! Shit, Yuki, your elbows are sharp! Jeez, alright, she forgives you.” While Tendou rubs at his tender side, the first years exchange glances with each other.

“I don’t understand. We said all of those terrible things about you,” Machi says. Ogata waves her hands a little.

“We don’t dislike you the way that Fujioka does, or anything!” She curls her hands shut and looks at Yuki, lost. “But why would you forgive us?” Yuki sighs, shoulders sagging a little as she glances at Tendou.

“Word for word,” she tells him, and he nods. She turns back to the three girls and smiles gently. This time, Tendou translates properly.

“I understand that it’s difficult to fit your play style to me. My disability makes things more complicated for you, much more complicated than it would be if you had joined any other girl’s volleyball team. I’ve never had anyone complain about learning how to communicate with me before, so it hurt to realize that I may have been burdening them like that, but that’s not your fault. You’re just kids, and while a lot of the things Fujioka said were just…Well, hurtful, she was right that you didn’t sign up to play with someone like me. The way I talk is the only way I’ve ever known, but I know that, for everyone else, it’s an extra thing to learn.” Tendou sets a hand on her shoulder, and Yuki looks up at him, briefly reaching up to squeeze his hand. She only removes it when she turns back to the first years. “I believe that you didn’t say anything in the locker room to be cruel or because you dislike me. It’s okay for you to be annoyed or frustrated. If you need help, I’m happy to work with you so that we can all work together. Because the other thing Fujioka was right about is that we can’t play without you.” After a few moments of the three first years staring at her with big eyes, they suddenly tear up and bow again.

“Thank you, Tsukamoto! We’ll work hard to improve and deserve your kindness!” they say, sounding a little weepy. Yuki smiles at them with an affection that feels almost maternal, and she steps closer and taps Sakuma’s shoulder again. When the tall girl glances up at her, Yuki beams.

“Thank you for your apologies. I wholeheartedly accept.” It seems like the three are about to burst into tears, but a shout from Hayakawa to get back to the gym and start helping with setup quickly sends them scattering. Yuki’s shoulders shake in a silent chuckle, then she turns back to Tendou. She tilts her head at him for a moment, then smiles.

“Was someone feeling protective?” she asks, a wide, teasing grin stretching across her face. Tendou waves a hand at her.

“Yeah, yeah, I just think you forgave them too easily. They weren’t mean like Shrieky was, but they still said stuff behind your back.” He pauses, then looks at her more seriously, his voice getting softer. “They all hurt you, Yuki.” Her expression softens.

“It’s hard for people to understand, Tendou. And they’re already better than a lot of others because they apologized and want to learn. I can deal with that,” she says. She steps closer to him, tilting her head again. “But, I appreciate your concern. You’re the best, Satori.” She reaches out to squeeze his hands, and he looks down at them for a second. When he smiles, she smiles back.

“Tsukamoto, we’ve still got practice left, let’s go!” Hayakawa shouts. Yuki squeezes Tendou’s hands firmly before releasing them, snatching up her water bottle from the ground before waving at Tendou and jogging toward the doors.

“Hey, Yuki!” She pauses and looks back. “Good luck. Go whip those kids into shape.” She beams at him and salutes, then hurries out of the gym.

#haikyuu #hq #haikyuu oc #lady's ocs #hq oc #tendo satori #ushijima wakatoshi #mute oc #haikyuu writing #lady writes #OC: Tsukamoto Yuki #oc & canon #cw: ableism

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lady-of-ocs · 26 days ago

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Shiratorizawa's Mute Musician (and Volleyball Star) - Tendou's Sister He Never Had

I am once again writing about my mute Shiratorizawa OC, Tsukamoto Yuki! This time I'm exploring her friendship with Tendou because I love them. Also available on AO3!

90% of the time, Yuki is completely receptive to Tendou’s energy and he can often get her to match it in some capacity. They’ve spent hours rambling back and forth to each other, where she’s gotten so into it that Tendou simply doesn’t have the heart to tell her that her hands are moving too fast for him to catch everything. He gets the gist of it, at least. But the other 10% of the time, Yuki completely locks in to what she’s doing and very little can pry her from her focus. Not that Tendou doesn’t try.

“Tsuuuuuka,” he singsongs, stretching his leg out to nudge her calf under the table. She glances at her book, then back at her notes and writes something down. “Tsuka. Tsuka, Tsuka, Tsuuuukaaaa. Tsukamoto.” Her fingers twitch around her pencil, but she doesn’t look up. Tendou slumps forward on the table, stretching his arms out to cover her book and notebook. “Yukiiiiii.” She sighs and lifts her gaze, one eyebrow quirking upward. She signs with her pencil still in hand.

“What, Tendou?” she asks, fingers flicking up from the top of her head as a sign of his name. He tilts his head on the table, peering up at her.

“I’m bored,” he says, lightly nudging her leg again. She gives him an unimpressed look.

“You have homework to do and so do I,” she says. He sighs dramatically.

“But I need help with it. If only I had a smart, talented, kind best friend who would help me,” he says. Yuki blinks at him.

“I’m sure Ushijima would be happy to help,” she says, and her expression tells him exactly how dry her tone is. He loves how expressive she is. His two best friends are complete opposites of each other in that aspect, but he likes that about them. With Ushijima, he feels privileged to know what each of his microexpressions mean and to have the ability to read him like a book. Alternatively, Yuki’s expressiveness is simply a delight to watch. She talks with her hands, but she speaks with her face. She can’t convey sarcasm or dryness with her hands alone, but her expression always gives her away.

“You’re so mean to me, Yuki,” Tendou says, dipping his head to rest it on the table. He pulls his arms back so that they’re no longer in her way, but quickly notices how she moves her things to the side so that the table near her left hand is free. One might assume that she’s turning away from him to get work done, but she’s simply moving her work out of the way so that she can do what she always does: extend her left hand toward him and allow him to grasp it and play with her fingers. He likes Yuki’s hands. They’re calloused, for one thing, specifically at the points where she repeatedly makes contact with volleyballs when she spikes. Her fingers are fairly long, but not spindly and bony, so they’re nice to play with and hold. But the biggest thing is that Yuki often wears rings on her left hand. They were gifts from her girlfriend and, damn, Hirano Chō sure knows how to pick jewelry that’s fun to play with. Tendou looks up from where he’s playing with her fingers, instead observing her face. She’s expressive even when she’s not trying to say something or convey her mood, so he likes watching her even when she’s occupied. You can only tell when you get close to her, but she puts red eyeliner above her eyes, and it gives her a very subtle, but cool, look. He compares her to Ushijima a lot. They both have an air of seriousness and cool about them—at least in his opinion—but not as many people know about how cool Yuki is. They don’t take the time to communicate with her, let alone know her. They’re missing out. Yuki looks down at him, almost as if she heard his thoughts. She raises an eyebrow and does her best to sign with her free hand.

“Did you actually need help?” she asks. He smiles up at her.

“I’m just thinking,” he says. She cocks her head slightly.

“About what?” He chuckles to himself.

“How cool you are,” he says. Yuki blinks at him, then her face breaks into a smile as air rushes out of her nose and her shoulders shake a little. The puff of air is the only sound that she makes when she laughs, and sometimes he wishes that, even if she still couldn’t say words, she could laugh. She’d have the nicest laugh, he’s decided. Still, the laugh she does have is a nice laugh, too, and he doesn’t tire of hearing it.

“I’m not that cool,” she says. He hums.

“Agree to disagree.” She blows a raspberry and waves her hand dismissively at him.

“Do your homework,” she says, though she notably doesn’t tug her hand from his grasp. He opts to take a nap instead, and a warm, affectionate feeling fills his chest when Yuki gently strokes her thumb along his hand.

When he wakes from his nap, Tendou can hear a pencil scratching over paper. He’s not sure how long he’s been asleep, but he guesses that Yuki’s already finished her homework, and she’s more than likely writing in her songwriting notebook. He likes her songs, even if he can’t understand all of the more personal messages she puts in them. He doesn’t need to understand to recognize how nice the words and melodies she strings together are. His eyes flutter open slowly, and he notices that there’s afternoon sunlight spilling over the table. When his eyes flick up slightly, he finds that Yuki is using her free hand to block the sunlight from hitting his face. Tendou smiles to himself.

“Maybe you’re not so mean after all,” he says, voice a little creaky from sleep. Yuki’s gaze immediately lifts and snaps toward him, and he smiles up at her. After a beat, she smiles back, huffing softly and fondly as she reaches down to stroke her fingers through his hair. He closes his eyes again, pressing his head into her hand, and he hears her huff of laughter. Her hand pauses and she makes a clicking sound with her tongue to get his attention, so he opens his eyes to look at her.

“You’re like a cat,” she says, and he can see the affection in the crinkles that appear around her eyes. He chuckles, and she scratches his head as if to prove her point. If he were a cat, he’d probably be purring from how nice it feels. Instead of telling her that, though, his gaze falls to her notebook.

“What are you writing?” Yuki looks down at it as well, then smiles. Her hand leaves his hair and he almost whines and complains about it, but stops when she slides the notebook toward him. He eyes it for a moment, then lifts his head from the table, reaching out to pull it over. “Did you write this from you, or did your Karasuno friend send you more inspiration?” He glances at her as he’s flipping the notebook around to read it.

“That one’s mine,” she says, proudly patting her hand against her chest. When he glances down to read the latest entry, he finds that it’s still partially incomplete, but the pieces that she does have feel…Complicated. It’s a love song, he realizes, but not a romantic one for her girlfriend or one of the platonic pieces she’s written about her friends—himself included. It feels more like she’s describing a love that isn’t so intimate, but is wholly different from the love she feels for her friends, family, or partner. One line sticks out to him and makes understanding click into place.

“This is about how playing makes you feel,” Tendou says, lifting his head to look at her again. She tilts her head at him, amused.

“Why do you say that?” she asks, before propping her head up on her hand to watch him. He looks back down at the song, eyes scanning over the words.

“It’s not done, obviously, but the foundation of it is there. You talk about ‘a love affair with pain and pleasure,’ which feels like an obvious reference to spiking, because hitting the ball can hurt but you feel good doing it. This part talks about how you’re never more understood or more ostracized when you’re there, and that feels like it connects with your teammates and how some of them treat you really well while others are just bitchy. But the thing that really made it click for me was this one. ‘You ripped out her heart just to take care of mine.’ That’s about your friend who quit, right? Céline? You’ve never given me details, but you said that she used to love volleyball, but playing the game just ended up hurting her.” He looks up to see her answer, and she looks so happy as she looks back at him. She nods enthusiastically as she signs her response.

“Wow! That was a really great breakdown! I’m surprised you noticed all of that! You’re right, though, it’s about my feelings toward volleyball.” Tendou grins at her.

“Well, I know you, Tsuka. And volleyball is kind of my forte.” She smiles and her shoulders shake a little. He cocks his head to the side. “Any ideas for what you’ll name it yet?” Yuki beams and nods again.

“I want the last line of the chorus to be: ‘So is this real, or is your love just a fallacy?’ I was thinking I’d name it Fallacy.” Tendou hums, looking back down at the notebook and considering what the song will sound like. After a few beats, his head snaps up again.

“Shit, Yuki, is this going to use the music you wrote last month? The one that got stuck in my head for a week after you played it for me?” He’s met with another enthusiastic nod, and he sighs, glancing back at the notebook one more time before he slides it back to her. “You’ll have to play it for me once it’s done.” She grins at him.

“You’ll be the first to hear it once I have Céline record it for me,” she says. He nods, then looks out the window. The sun is starting to go down.

“We should get going. Your dad will have me killed if I send you home after dark,” he says. Yuki nods and starts to collect her stuff, sliding it haphazardly into her bag. Tsukamoto Yuki is many things, but organized isn’t one of them, and that fact always makes him laugh a little. He stands up and pulls his bag onto his shoulder, looking down at her. “Want me to walk you to your car?” She looks up at him, nodding with a warm smile on her face. She quickly slings her bag onto her shoulder as well and they leave the dorm lounge. He can’t help himself when he ruffles her hair, which causes her to bat at his arm, making clicking noises with her tongue as she throws well-aimed pokes into his ribs. He laughs, and he can see her smiling as well. Tendou Satori loves Tsukamoto Yuki. She’s like the sister he’s never had and never knew he wanted.

#haikyuu #hq #haikyuu oc #hq oc #tendou satori #mute oc #haikyuu writing #lady's ocs #lady writes #OC: Tsukamoto Yuki

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lady-of-ocs · 1 month ago

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anybody else . can anyone hear me

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lady-of-ocs · 1 month ago

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Snow Crow - A Haikyuu OC: True Story

Tanaka is my underrated darling and I find him shockingly emotionally intelligent (at least he's got SOME kind of intelligence), so I wanted to write something with him. Mostly fluff but some hurt/comfort. I'm also sure you've been just DYING to know why my girl quit volleyball, so BEHOLD. The story. Featuring: My personal boba order

Céline folds her arms over her chest, raising an eyebrow.

“And remind me why I should help you study?” she asks flatly. Tanaka clasps his hands in front of him, head bowed.

“Please, Céline! You’ve gotta help me pass this test or they’re not going to let me play until I can get my grades up! The team is counting on me!” he says. She raises an unimpressed eyebrow.

“Aren’t you still on the bench?” she asks. He bristles, but doesn’t raise his head.

“I’ll never get off the bench if I don’t get a chance to play! Come on, Céline, help a guy out! You’re, like, a total super genius!” he says. She huffs in amusement.

“You’re supposed to compliment me before you ask for something, you know. That’s how people usually get what they want,” she says. He lifts his head, arms raised.

“See! That’s why you’re the super genius! What would I ever do without-“ She holds up a finger in his face and he immediately shuts up, watching her with wide eyes.

“What subject?” Tanaka blinks at her. Once. Twice. Then her question finally seems to register and he immediately jolts to straighten his posture.

“English!” Céline stares at him for a long moment, considering. She’s not as close with Tanaka as she is with Asahi or Nishinoya, but he’s in the same year as her and seems nice enough (if not a little girl crazy). Finally, she sighs and drops her hand.

“Come see me at lunch. I’ll tutor you until your test,” she says. His face breaks out into a giant grin, and he bows.

“Thank you, Céline! You won’t regret this!” he says. She snorts softly and shakes her head, smiling to herself.

“For your sake, I hope you’re right.”

In fairness to Tanaka, Céline doesn’t regret tutoring him. He’s a slow learner, but he’s clearly trying his best. She does, however, regret tutoring him during her lunch period. He talks with his mouth full and usually ends up dropping crumbs onto his papers while he’s eating. It’s…Kind of gross.

“Can you look at my essay? I tried my best, but it was really complicated,” he says, mouth half full of meat and rice. She takes the paper from him and tries not to cringe as she swipes sticky rice off the paper.

“Tanaka, this entire thing is just about volleyball,” she says flatly, looking up from the paper. Tanaka shrugs at her.

“We had to write about our life and-”

“And volleyball is life. Yeah, I remember,” she says, cutting off his sentence before he spits half the contents of his mouth at her. She takes her pencil and looks back down at the paper. It focuses on volleyball, yes, but it’s not terrible overall. A little disjointed, but not bad. She scribbles down some corrections, then holds the paper back toward him. “Not too bad. You’re actually decent when you put in a bit of effort.” Tanaka doesn’t quite beam at her, but his eyes seem to sparkle at the vague praise. He looks at the paper as he finishes chewing, tilting his head at it before looking at her again.

“How are you so good at this stuff?” he asks. She picks up an orange slice from the one she peeled while he was working, shrugging.

“I’m already bilingual, Tanaka. Once you’ve learned one language, you know what you need to do to learn other ones. I had to learn Japanese when I was eight,” she says, popping the orange in her mouth. He blinks at her, like it hadn’t occurred to him that she knows multiple languages.

“Right…Where were you originally from again?” She huffs in slight amusement, gesturing to herself.

“What, the complexion doesn’t give it away?” she asks, a teasing lilt to her voice. He blinks at her. “I’m French, Tanaka. I moved from France. That’s why Asahi is having me teach him French.”

“Oh. Right, that makes sense.” She goes back to eating her orange, eventually finishing it off while he’s fixing the mistakes she marked. Suddenly, his pencil pauses. “Do you think it’s bad? The whole…’volleyball is life’ thing?” Céline purses her lips, considering the question.

“I mean, I was never quite that dedicated, but I definitely understand the mindset. Throwing your entire being into volleyball…I don’t think it has to be a bad thing, but all it ever did for me was cause a lot of pain and hurt,” she says. Tanaka lifts his gaze, eyeing her carefully.

“What do you mean? Who…Who hurt you?” he asks. Céline’s body tenses a little. She’s been asked what happened before, and that’s usually easy enough to brush off. But who hurt you? That one is…More complicated. “Ah- Shit, I’m sorry. You don’t have to answer that.” She shakes her head.

“You don’t have to apologize. It’s just…A sore subject,” she says. Tanaka watches her for a moment, then reaches over to pat her arm. He doesn’t press further, just turns back to his assignment and keeps working on it. She’s grateful for the silence.

Since it’s nice out, they sit outside in the courtyard for their tutoring session. Once Céline’s finished eating, she lounges back in the grass, looking up at the way the sunlight shines through the tree’s leaves. The wind blows through above them, rustling the leaves pleasantly.

“Hey, uh…Céline?” She turns her head toward Tanaka, peering up at him and preparing to sit up so that she can answer whatever question he has. “I wanted to tell you that my test is tomorrow, so you won’t have to keep spending your lunchtime tutoring me.” She blinks at him.

“Oh.” She’s not quite sure what else to say. She hadn’t expected to feel so unhappy about the arrangement ending. She’s missed having lunch with Satomi, sure, but she also doesn’t want to just stop hanging out with Tanaka. She silently turns her head back toward the sky, lips pursed.

“Can I ask you something?” he asks after a long silence. She hums affirmatively and looks up at him again.

“Go ahead.”

“How did you become friends with Asahi? Like, how did you meet? I feel like he just randomly started talking about you one day,” he says. She raises an eyebrow and smirks a little.

“Oh, he talks about me?” she asks. He looks down at her and makes a face.

“Yeah, of course he…Why are you making that face?” She chuckles, lifting her head enough to fold her arms under it.

“It’s nothing. Just something I can tease him about. He gets all flustered and turns bright red when I do that,” she says. He chuckles, muttering something about that “checking out,” and she hums to herself and looks toward the sky again, crossing her ankles. “But, to answer your question, I actually met him, Sawamura, and Sugawara last year. I came to the mall with my sister and…Well, Asahi ended up finding me crying and sort of spiraling in this deserted corner of the mall. And after Sawamura and Sugawara found us, they all ended up hanging out with me until I had to leave. I think that meeting is the only reason Asahi approached me once I got here.” Tanaka is quiet for a minute, and she can’t hear him writing on his papers.

“...I’m glad Asahi found you. He’s a really softhearted guy, and I think that makes him easy to talk to and approach. I dunno, he’s just…He’s nice, I guess. Maybe comforting to people who are crying, I don’t know,” he finally says. She purses her lips for a moment, then takes a deep breath.

“You’re not going to ask why I was crying?” she asks, quieter than before. She glances at him, but he’s staring down at his homework.

“I didn’t want to pry.” The knot that’s long been formed in her chest loosens slightly. People won’t usually push her to answer, if they even bother to ask, but they still tend to ask.

“It was the same reason why I quit volleyball,” she suddenly says, just barely loud enough for him to hear. He looks down at her, eyes wide. She’s not sure why she said it, but she’s not sure that she regrets the small admission. Asahi has had to gently coax every bit of information out of her, one hangout or walk home at a time. She hasn’t willingly offered anything to…Well, anyone. She smiles slightly, then shifts and sits up. “I’ll tell you what. Score a…A 70 on this test I’ve helped you study for, and I’ll tell you why I quit volleyball, and why I was crying when Asahi met me.” He stares at her for a moment, then she sees a glint of determination in his eyes as he nods.

“Deal!”

A few days pass, and Céline goes back to her usual routine from before she started tutoring Tanaka. The boy waves wildly alongside Nishinoya any time they see her, but she doesn’t hear anything about the results of his test. Maybe he didn’t get a high enough grade. She’s disappointed, of course, but she’s sure that he tried his best.

“Hey, Cél.” Céline lifts her gaze as she reaches the bottom of the club room stairs, smiling at Asahi.

“Hey. Ready to head home?” she asks. He nods, smiling shyly back. As they’re walking, she can’t help but look at him, tilting her head. “Are you growing out your hair?” He blinks at her, then smiles bashfully and reaches back to toy with his longer locks.

“I thought I’d try something new. I’m not sure if I’ll keep it,” he says. She smiles sweetly at him and reaches out, twirling some hair around her finger.

“I like it. You should keep growing it out a bit. It suits you,” she says. He flushes, but smiles back at her.

“You think so?” Before she can reply, someone shouts behind her.

“Céline! Wait up!” Her hand drops from Asahi’s hair, and they both turn and look back. Tanaka and Nishinoya are full-speed sprinting after them, and they both recoil slightly when the two boys come to a stop in front of them. Tanaka is clearly winded, but he holds up a piece of paper to show her, panting when he speaks. “An even- 70…” She looks at the top right corner and, sure enough, there’s a big red 70 written there. She smiles.

“That’s amazing, Tanaka! I’m proud of you!” she says cheerily. He continues panting, then glances up as he lowers his arm.

“Oh…Hey, Asahi…Hope I…Wasn’t interrupting…” Tanaka continues to wheeze.

“Oh, no. No interruptions. I was just about to walk Cél home,” he says. Tanaka turns his gaze toward Céline, and she glances at Asahi.

“I promised him something if he scored a 70. Is that okay?” she asks. Asahi smiles, soft and sweet.

“Oh! Yeah, don’t worry about me! I’ll walk you home tomorrow!” he says. Nishinoya practically leaps onto him.

“Don’t worry, Cél! I’ll keep him company!” he says proudly. Though Asahi gets his usual stressed out look as Nishinoya hangs off of him, it’s more out of worry than any actual distress, so Céline smiles at the two of them.

“Thanks, Noya. Now I know he’ll be safe getting home without me,” she says, an amused tone to her voice. The worry on Asahi’s face is knocked right off, replaced by surprise.

“H-Hey! I’m not that bad!” he says. Both Céline and Nishinoya chuckle, and Céline reaches out to lightly and affectionately pat Asahi’s cheek before dropping her hand and turning.

“Come on, Tanaka.”

“Later, you guys!” Tanaka quickly comes rushing up to walk beside her, and she rolls her eyes with an amused smile on her face. “So, where are we going?” She hums thoughtfully but doesn’t answer.

Céline takes a long sip through the wide straw, sucking popping mango bobas up and rolling them around on her tongue before they pop and she swallows. She’s not very well-versed in boba tea, but she enjoys a good passionfruit drink with aforementioned mango popping bobas. She glances sideways at Tanaka, who happily munches on the melonpan that she bought him. It’s another nice, warm day, so they took their treats out to a bench overlooking a little pond. Some ducks swim by, and Céline smiles to herself.

“I know that you said you’d tell me why you quit and everything if I got a 70, but you don’t have to,” Tanaka suddenly says. She looks over at him and he’s already watching her, a gentle tilt to his head and a soft expression on his face. She smiles a little.

“I appreciate you giving me the option, but it’s okay, really. I’ll never be able to work through things if I don’t talk about it,” she says. He doesn’t speak or move for a second, but eventually gives a small nod, looking at her in a way that tells her that he’s truly listening to her. She takes a breath and looks down at her drink, taking a sip from it before swallowing and exhaling.

“Do you know what they used to call me when I played volleyball?”

“Yeah, of course. Everyone knew who you were,” he says. She glances at him.

“You can say it,” she says. Despite the fact that she hasn’t offered any explanation for the name, he looks hesitant to say it. He swallows and clears his throat.

“Snow Queen. They…They called you Snow Queen. Because your spikes were so powerful that opponents would just feel an icy breeze when the ball went by, or…Something like that. And because you look like…Well, you know.” Even though she gave him permission, her fingers twitch when he says the name. Snow Queen.

“Sounds like a compliment, doesn’t it?” she asks. He’s still watching her closely, his eyes having darted downward when her fingers twitched.

“I always thought so,” he says after a moment. She holds his gaze for a beat, then looks away.

“It wasn’t. Not to the girls in the league,” she says, looking out at the water again. “It popped up at the end of my first year because of our win at nationals. I don’t even remember the first person who said it or where it came from, but um…Teenage girls can be…Really bitchy to each other. The girls on the other teams…Well, they either resented me or were afraid of me. I heard Snow Queen spit at me so many times that I eventually realized that it was nothing more than an insult disguised as a compliment. People who didn’t play in the women’s league didn’t know the context behind it, so everyone would call me that. I’d heard it said with so much hatred and malice that I…I just flinch no matter how it’s said or who says it. And the girls who didn’t say it with hatred were afraid of me. They looked at me like I was a monster.” She takes a shuddering breath as she thinks back to those two years. She usually does her best to think of anything but, however, she agreed to tell Tanaka what happened, and she intends to keep her promise. She takes another shaky breath. “And on top of that, people who viewed the name as a compliment stopped seeing me. They saw the Snow Queen, not the girl behind her. Their admiration and praise felt so…hollow. After two years, I couldn’t take it anymore. The first time I met Asahi, I was crying because someone in the mall recognized me, called me Snow Queen. And it just shattered something. I found this quiet corner in the mall to hide in, and eventually…Asahi appeared. He and Sawamura and Sugawara. They cheered me up that day, made things feel more tolerable. Normal, almost. Sometimes I think meeting them is the only thing that got me through my third year. But by the end, I was done. I was already moving, so…I quit. I hoped that Snow Queen would die in my past. That I’d leave Tokyo and never hear it again.” Céline finally falls silent, still staring at the water. She blinks tears back, returning the straw to her lips and taking a long drink.

“Céline, I’m…” Tanaka falters, and she lets him think about what he wants to say. “Everything fell apart because of…That name?” She hears the moment where he catches himself, almost says Snow Queen again. She hums, popping the little bobas in her mouth and swallowing.

“It’s stupid, I know-”

“No!” She can’t help but snap her gaze back toward him. He’s leaning toward her slightly, his eyes wide and face bright with determination. “Céline, it’s not stupid! Those other girls were mean to you! They used that name to secretly hurt you and make you feel like shit! Being upset and quitting over that name isn’t stupid, especially when people were using it against you like…Like a weapon!” Céline blinks at him, eyes wide. For a moment, she’s completely lost on what to say. He barely knows her. How can he be so insistent and passionate about what he’s saying?

“That’s…A sort of poetic way of putting it,” she says, chuckling weakly. He frowns slightly, and his expression is more serious than anything she’s ever seen on his face before.

“Céline.” She looks away, feeling vaguely scolded, but, after a few seconds, she feels a hand settle on her knee. When she looks over, Tanaka has scooted closer and gives her a soft, meaningful look. “Your feelings and reasons are valid. There’s no reason to feel ashamed or stupid.” Céline sits there, staring at him, for a long time. Why does it feel so good to hear that? It’s as if a weight has been lifted from her chest, and she feels tears well up in her eyes.

“Thanks, Tanaka,” she hears herself croak, turning her head away as she swipes at her tears. The hand on her knee squeezes and he shuffles closer to her. It takes her a second to collect herself, but he waits patiently.

“Are you happier here?” he asks quietly once she’s stopped sniffling. She purses her lips, thinking about Tokyo and her friends who she left behind. She remembers her old teammates, wonders how they are now.

“I miss playing sometimes,” she admits. Then, she smiles and turns to look at him. “But, yeah. I’m happier. It’s been nice here.” Tanaka smiles back at her.

“I’m glad. It’s been nice having you here,” he says. She chuckles softly, tilting over slightly to bump their shoulders together. He bumps hers again in response, and she returns to her boba with a small smile on her face. They sit in peaceful silence together for a little while, then Tanaka kicks the toe of his shoe against the ground. “Do you think we could keep studying together? Not all the time, but…When you have some spare time.” She hums, glancing over and considering him for a minute.

“I might be able to fit you into my schedule,” she says, slowly starting to grin. He smiles back at her.

“Thanks, Cél.”

#haikyuu #hq #haikyuu oc #hq oc #tanaka ryuunosuke #haikyuu tanaka #emotionally intelligent tanaka #lady writes #lady's ocs #haikyuu writing #OC: Céline LaRue #OC: Celine LaRue #oc & canon #lady writes oc stuff #lady's snippets

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lady-of-ocs · 2 months ago

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this one is for th boys w the boomer system top down ac

#tsukkiyama #tsukishima kei #yamaguchi tadashi #manglestar #TSUKKIYAMA MY BELOVEDS <3

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lady-of-ocs · 2 months ago

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Snow Crow - A Haikyuu OC: A Love-Hurt Relationship

I LOOOOOVE Nishinoya, and I think that of all of these that I've written so far, this on feels the most accurate to the character. I can hear his voice in my head (the English dub voice, at least). It gets a little bit introspective about Nishinoya and his feelings about Asahi leaving the volleyball team, but that's not the whole focus. I've explored a bit of Asahi's side of it, so I thought I'd do the same thing with Noya because I love him so much. "Love-Hurt" as opposed to Love-Hate

It’s the first time in a week that Nishinoya’s been at school, and he’s quieter than Céline’s ever seen him. She knows what happened, of course. She coaxed most of it out of Asahi and got the other pieces from Tanaka. So, she knows why he’s like this. She just wishes that she knew how to fix it. She sighs and closes her locker, hiking her bag onto her shoulder. She locks up the club room when she leaves, heading silently down the stairs. Since they’re out of all competitions already, most of the practices have been short and mostly dedicated to saying goodbye to their seniors. She stayed behind for extra practice, not wanting to get screamed at by their coach again (should she decide to show up). As she leaves through the front gate and turns the corner, she stops in her tracks.

“Noya?” she says, shock evident in her voice. Nishinoya, previously leaned against the wall messing with his phone, lifts his head to look at her.

“Hey, Cél,” he says. She blinks at him.

“Why…What are you doing here?” she asks. He looks away from her and shrugs.

“We always walk home together,” he says. And he isn’t wrong. Before his fight with Asahi, Nishinoya would often join the two of them as they walked home after their respective practices. Those walks home were the reasons why she got to know Nishinoya in the first place, and why she now considers him her friend. While he was suspended, he wasn’t around to walk home with her (though, neither was Asahi, since he didn’t have practice to stay for anymore). Considering how solemn he’s seemed all day, she wasn’t expecting him to walk home with her, especially since there was no reason for him to stay. “I guess Asahi isn’t coming?” Céline blinks again, then shakes her head.

“Ah…No. No reason for him to stay late after school anymore,” she says. Nishinoya’s expression darkens as he looks up at her again.

“So you’ve been walking home alone for the past week?” He scoffs before she even answers, crossing his arms as he averts his gaze. “Coward.” She frowns, walking forward and setting a hand on Nishinoya’s shoulder.

“Hey, do you want to hang out? We can stop by my house and drop off my stuff, and then we can go do something,” she says. His stormy expression dissolves and his eyes soften. He offers her a small smile and nods.

“Sure, Cél. That sounds nice,” he says. She smiles back at him and nods, dropping her hand from his shoulder before they start down the sidewalk.

While Nishinoya waits by the front door, Céline goes to her room to drop her school bag. As she’s going to leave again, she spots her volleyball sitting in the corner behind her desk, where it’s been gathering dust for what’s nearing a year. She considers it for a moment, glancing at her door and where she knows Nishinoya is waiting in the other room. After stewing for a minute, she goes and picks up her volleyball, blowing dust off of it before carrying it out of her room.

“Hey, we don’t have to, but…” She looks at him and holds up the ball once she’s in his view again. “Do you want to go to the park and toss the ball around?” He looks between the ball and her face for a few moments, then nods. She smiles a little and tosses the ball to him, walking back over to pull her shoes back on.

“When was the last time you used this?” Nishinoya asks as she’s tying her right shoe. She pauses and looks up. He presses on the sides and it squishes in. Well, it’s not supposed to do that.

“Oh. It’s been a while. I guess it needs air,” she says. She hops up, kicking off her left shoe again. “Hold on, I’ve got a pump in my room.” She turns and starts hopping on one foot back to her room, and she can hear Nishinoya laugh softly behind her. She has to rummage a bit to find her air pump, hopping around to different places in her room to search. Usually, she’s very graceful and steady on her feet, but hopping around in one sock on a vaguely slippery floor serves as her (quite literal) downfall. She hits the floor with a thud, though it doesn’t hurt as much as it could’ve since she’s learned how to fall as safely as possible. Still, Nishinoya comes rushing into her room.

“Are you okay?” he exclaims. Céline rolls onto her back and groans for a moment.

“I’m greeaaaaat,” she says. A beat passes. Suddenly, Nishinoya starts giggling. She lifts her head.

“Are you laughing at me?” she cries, though she’s already started smiling a little. He’s clutching the volleyball to his chest as he laughs, and he tries saying something a few times before being cut off by his own giggles. Céline shakes her head fondly before laying her head back against the floor and chuckling to herself. She turns her head, gaze landing in the dark space beneath her bed. When she sees a box there, she recalls that she left the air pump in it. She rolls over and sits up, pulling the box from under her bed.

“What’s that?” Nishinoya asks, walking over and plopping down next to her. She opens the box up as she opens her mouth to respond, but her words stick in her mouth. The pump is there, but she suddenly recalls why this box was under her bed. Her middle school volleyball memorabilia is staring up at her. They both just stare at it for a moment, until Céline finally takes the pump out and sets it on the floor between them. She pulls her team jacket out and stares at it. Most middle school and high school athletes don’t get to keep much after they graduate, but since she was so much bigger than most of the other girls (especially once she became a third year), all of her stuff had to be custom ordered and they let her keep it when she left. Part of her wishes that she left it all behind, but another, much larger, part of her is glad she still has it all. After all, she loves this sport, even if she walked away from it. “Do you ever regret quitting?” She doesn’t lift her gaze from the jacket at first, but she does smile a little, even if it doesn’t reach her eyes.

“Are you really asking for me?” she asks, lifting her gaze to his. “Or are you only asking because you’re thinking about Asahi?” His eyes widen.

“No! Cél, I…I…” He stares at her for only a moment more before he turns his head away in shame. When he speaks, he’s quiet again. “I’m sorry.” She looks away and sets the jacket back in the box.

“It’s okay,” she mutters. She turns and picks up the pump, then reaches out and gently takes the volleyball from his hands. As she starts airing it up again, she senses his eyes on her again.

“I was asking for you. But…For Asahi, too,” he says. She looks at him again, and there’s a flurry of emotions in his eyes. She sighs.

“I get it, Noya, I do. You’re mad that he quit and you want him to come back. I also think that you don’t want him to do something he regrets.” She goes back to airing up the volleyball, monitoring the pressure in it. “So, I understand why you asked, okay? I’m not upset.” Nishinoya is still watching her, but she doesn’t meet his gaze. She gets the ball filled and sets the pump aside, spinning the ball between her hands. God, she loves volleyball. She sighs, hugging the ball to her chest.

“I’m frustrated. I can’t go back to the team to play for another month, not until we’re second years, but I also don’t want to go back at all if it’s without Asahi. I guess…I just miss him. He’s my friend. And I don’t really want to play on a team without him,” Nishinoya says, breaking the silence again. She looks over at him, a soft frown on her face. After a long beat of silence, she looks back at the ball and spins it in her hands again.

“I think my heart broke when he told me that he’d quit the team, and it shattered when Tanaka really explained the argument,” she says quietly. “Maybe because you’re both my friends and I care about you, but I think it was more than that. I walked away from volleyball because…Well, that’s not important. But the point is that I walked away. You asked me if I’ve ever regretted quitting and…God. Yes, more than you know. I’m happy, but I miss it. And I know how much Asahi loves volleyball. I don’t want him to leave the team and realize too late that he regrets it. But I can’t just push my opinions on him. Not when I’m the last fucking person he should trust about quitting volleyball. I’d just look like a massive hypocrite. So, I’ve just kept my mouth shut.” There are a few long beats of silence.

“He’d listen to you if you said something,” Nishinoya says quietly. Céline stops spinning the ball again.

“I know.” She looks over at him. “That’s why I don’t say anything. I don’t want to push him into a decision. Whatever choice he makes has to be his own.” He watches her for a second, then sighs.

“I think you’re a better person than me,” he says. She can’t help but smile a little.

“I think that was established a while ago, Noya,” she teases lightly. He pouts at her and she lets out a soft laugh. After a moment, he looks down at the box in front of them, eyes dancing across the various things inside.

“Do you mind if I look at this stuff?” he asks, pointing into the box. Céline shrugs.

“Not really. Just be careful with it,” she says. Nishinoya nods and turns back to the box, carefully rummaging through. He glances at medals and old team photos, grins at her third year jersey, and unfolds posters once used to advertise matches or fundraisers for the team, but the thing he truly pauses at is the scrapbook buried at the bottom. When he pulls it out, he glances at Céline like he’s looking for permission, and she eyes the scrapbook for a moment before nodding mutely. He turns back to the scrapbook and opens it, gaze falling on photos taken of herself in action and working with her teammates, Polaroids taken during practices and before or after games, and newspaper clippings talking about the team (and her, too). There are volleyball stickers and little doodles in the open spaces, along with dates and short notes about the pictures. Nishinoya strokes his thumb over a particularly good photo of her leaping toward a ball that her friend Taiga had set to her, body wound tight and ready to strike it down.

“I try not to ask because Ryuu says that it’s really personal, but when I look at this stuff…Cél, you were like volleyball royalty. I don’t want to pry, but I just…I know you had to move, but you could’ve gotten into any school you wanted and played volleyball there. You were one of the top female aces in the country for middle school! There was a reason why they called you the Snow-“

“Noya.” His gaze snaps to her and, after a moment, she sighs. “That’s all true, but…Look, all I’ll say is that being volleyball royalty, like you said? It wasn’t as amazing as you think. It was…kind of painful, actually. Took a toll on me.” His eyes widen.

“I’m sorry. I…I didn’t know,” he says. She smiles slightly at him.

“It’s fine. Most people don’t. I think the only two people who know the full story are Tanaka and…” She trails off, but he pieces together what she doesn’t say.

“And Asahi,” he says. He purses his lips for a moment before reaching out and touching her knee. “You can tell me, you know. You don’t have to, but you can.” Céline pats his hand lightly.

“I know. And one day, maybe I will. But right now, I don’t want to burden you with that story. I invited you to hang out because I wanted to make you feel better.” She holds up the volleyball and he smiles, too. He glances back at the scrapbook again.

“Can I ask one more question?” he asks. She sighs dramatically, leaning back on one hand.

“I guess.” He takes a moment, then looks at her again, tilting the scrapbook toward her.

“Do you still talk to them? Your old teammates?” She looks at the pictures on the page, thinking back to each moment captured in time. She looks happy in those pictures. And, in those moments when they were taken, she was happy. But that didn’t always reflect the reality of her life in the volleyball spotlight.

“Only three of them. The rest resent me for quitting, as far as I know.” His eyebrows scrunch over his narrowing eyes.

“Well, that’s stupid. I’m sure you had a good reason for quitting.” She raises an eyebrow at him, not missing the irony in that statement. He bristles under her gaze. “Hey, don’t look at me like that! I don’t resent Asahi! I just…I’m frustrated, that’s all!” She hums, then sits up again.

“I know, Noya.” She waves her hand toward the box. “Put that away. Let’s go toss the ball around before it gets too late.”

Céline spins the ball between her fingers.

“You’re sure you want me to hit it as hard as I can?” she calls. Nishinoya waves his hands at her and drops into a squated position.

“Bring it!” he yells back. She pops her lips and shrugs to herself, then tosses the ball forward and up, running after it and jumping up. Her hand slaps against it with a satisfying smack, and the ball sails in Nishinoya’s direction. He jumps into its path, arms out and ready to receive the ball. When it hits him, it sounds like it hurts, but he just watches it bounce off and laughs.

“Killer serve, Cél!” he shouts over to her. She grins, watching him retrieve the ball and throw it back toward her.

“That was just a warm-up!” He smiles back at her and gets back into position. After sending serve after serve at him, throwing in slight variations that she learned over the years before quitting the game, Nishinoya’s arms are bruised and Céline’s serving arm is a little sore. They lay in the grass together, in opposite directions but keeping their heads aligned, and Céline hugs her volleyball to her stomach.

“We should do this again. That was fun,” Nishinoya says. She smiles, watching clouds go by as the sky starts to turn orange. She ignores the fact that her white uniform shirt is definitely getting grass stains on the back right now, instead humming and glancing over at him.

“Are you using me for volleyball practice since you can’t practice with the team?” she asks with a note of playful accusation. He turns his head to look at her.

“Nooo,” he replies, but they grin at each other and laugh softly. “But, seriously. Would you?” She sighs and looks back up at the sky.

“I don’t know, Noya,” she says quietly. “I had so much fun playing with you, but the more I come back to this game…I just- I don’t know if I can do that right now. I was just chosen to be the new gymnastics captain and-”

“Whoa, really? But you’re only going to be a second year!” he says, rolling onto his side to look at her. She chuckles, rolling onto her side as well.

“Yeah, I know. I was completely shocked, but I guess a lot of the second years are quitting the team before their third year, and Fujimura and Hoga wanted to give the mantle to me.”

“Well, that’s awesome, Cél. Congrats!” She laughs again.

“Thank you.” Once she’s quieted again, she looks back at him and holds his gaze. “Look, I’m not saying no to playing more volleyball and helping you practice. I just…One day I’ll explain the love-hurt relationship I have with it and my hesitance will make sense, okay?” He smiles softly at her.

“I can wait.” She smiles gratefully back. They stay like that for a bit before he shifts a little. “Do you need to go home?”

“Nah. Let’s stay here for a little longer. You haven’t gotten to tell me how your suspension was.” He groans and briefly rolls onto his back, dragging his hands down his face. She laughs as he rolls to face her again. “It was so boring Cél, you have no idea! My grandpa was all on my ass about it and all I could say was-”

#haikyuu #hq #haikyuu oc #hq oc #nishinoya yū #nishinoya yuu #haikyuu nishinoya #lady writes #lady's ocs #haikyuu writing #OC: Céline LaRue #OC: Celine LaRue #oc & canon #lady writes oc stuff #lady's snippets

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lady-of-ocs · 2 months ago

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Fanfiction Work-In-Progress Guessing Game

Send me a word, if it’s in my wip document I’ll answer your ask with the sentence that it appears in

#So curious #If I get even a single ask I will be happy #...#what does that say about me?

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lady-of-ocs · 2 months ago

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Snow Crow - A Haikyuu OC: Asahi Comes to Dinner

I love my gentle giant, glass-hearted, man-bun-rocking boy. We also don't really explore the fact that he enjoys fashion (enough that he becomes an apparel designer post-timeskip), at least in the anime, so I wanted to lean into that. He delights me.

As they walk along the sidewalk in the direction of Céline’s house, Asahi fidgets with the strap of his bag.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” he asks. Céline looks over at him, fondness crinkling the edges of her eyes.

“I’m positive. My sister loves having my friends over for dinner,” she says. He still looks uncertain, but nods and keeps walking. They eventually reach her house and she slides the front door open, stepping inside and slipping off her shoes.

“Pardon the intrusion,” Asahi calls. She glances back and smiles at him.

“Oh, you don’t have to do that. Dettie isn’t home yet. She doesn’t close the shop for another hour and a half. It’s just us here,” she says, moving around him to close the front door. When she shifts backward, she bumps into him, and she turns to figure out what the problem is. He’s standing there with one shoe in his hand, the other still on his foot, and his cheeks are bright red.

“We’re here alone?” he asks. She blinks, processing his reaction, then huffs fondly and reaches out, gently patting his arm.

“Relax, Asahi. We’re doing homework,” she says. Her grin widens mischievously. “I can’t believe your mind immediately went to such a dirty place when I said-” She’s cut off by his loud, embarrassed groan, and she laughs and rubs his back for a moment before leaving him to take his shoes off. She leaves her bag at the kitchen table before going to the fridge to grab an orange. She’s already started digging her thumb nails into it to peel it open when Asahi appears in the doorway of the kitchen. He watches her peel the orange, the red flush fading from his cheeks slowly, and jumps slightly when something brushes against his leg.

“Oh.” A fluffy black cat curls around his legs, purring as it brushes against him. Céline lifts her gaze to watch, smiling softly.

“I see you’ve met our cat, Aoki. My friend Tetsurou and I found him a little over a year ago,” she says. Asahi crouches down to stroke his hand over the cat’s back, his eyes bright as Aoki nudges his head into Asahi’s hand and continues to purr.

“He’s so soft,” he says, scratching behind Aoki’s ear. Céline chuckles slightly, looking away to go back to her orange.

“Yeah, he loves being brushed. I do it once a week and he gets super cuddly afterward.” She frees the orange from its peel and throws the peel in the scrap bin they collect for her friend Yuki’s garden.

“Can I pick him up?” Asahi asks. Céline looks back at him as she pulls the orange in half, smiling at the expression on his face.

“Of course. He loves snuggling. If you let him, he’ll climb up and lay across your shoulders.” Asahi grins, gingerly scooping Aoki into his arms and standing up. Aoki nuzzles his head against Asahi’s neck, still purring, and Céline’s smile turns deeply fond and affectionate as she watches them. She pops an orange slice into her mouth, then pushes off the counter to cross the room and walk up to Asahi. He’s distracted by Aoki clambering onto one shoulder, shifting to make sure the cat doesn’t fall off. Eventually, Aoki settles around Asahi’s neck, his tail lightly brushing across his face. Asahi reaches up to scratch the cat’s head, still looking incredibly pleased. “I think he likes you.” He looks back at her and grins, then opens his mouth when she offers him an orange slice. She pops it between his lips, and he sucks it in and chews while she sits down at the table.

“Will he just stay up here?” he asks once he’s swallowed his fruit. She hums affirmatively.

“He’ll stay up there for as long as you let him. Dettie usually takes him off my shoulders before dinner, though.” Asahi hums, scratching behind Aoki’s ear again before finally joining Céline at the table, setting his bag next to him. She finishes off her orange—though, not without sharing another slice with him first—while he pulls out some homework and sets it on the table. As she’s licking juice from her fingers, he turns his head to look at her.

“Could you…Help me with math?” he asks. She immediately nods and slides into his space, leaning over to examine the problem he points to.

“Oh, I see what’s wrong. Here, give me your pencil and I’ll show you.”

After about an hour and a half of homework, Céline starts noticing Asahi glancing at her nervously, like he wants to ask her something but is too afraid to do it. She focuses on the jumble of chemistry equations in front of her, and after another ten minutes of silence, he finally cracks.

“Céline? Can I…There’s something I wanted to ask you about,” he says. She lifts her head, happy for the distraction from the hell that is chemistry.

“Go ahead,” she says, flashing him a soft and hopefully welcoming smile. He looks at her warily for a moment, then turns and rummages through his bag, pulling something out and holding it carefully in his hands.

“Remember how I told you about my love of fashion?” he asks, peering at her carefully. She smiles a little wider and nods.

“Of course. That French fashion magazine is why we’re friends right now,” she says. Asahi’s shoulders relax slightly, and he smiles a little, too.

“Right.” He glances back at what’s in his hands, which seems to be a notebook or sketchbook. “Well, I’ve been working on my own designs lately. Nothing really impressive, but it’s been a lot of fun. I…” He looks at her for a moment, then back at the book, then carefully reaches out to set it in front of her. Céline eyes it for a moment, glancing up at him when she reaches out a hand.

“Can I open it?” she asks. He nods mutely and she turns back to the book, carefully opening it to the first page. As she slowly and carefully flips through page after page of his design sketches, her eyes widen and her lips part. “Asahi, these…They’re Incredible.” She lifts her gaze toward him, watching him flush from her compliment, and he scratches at his neck just above where Aoki is still napping.

“Thank you,” he says quietly. She watches him hesitate to say something else and patiently waits for him to gain the courage. His eyes dart between her face and his sketchbook, then he purses his lips and scoots a little closer to her, reaching out to touch the edge of the paper. “If I made some of my designs, would you…And you don’t have to! I just wondered…Well, I hoped. But don’t feel pressured to do it if you don’t want to! Céline, would you maybe, I mean, at least consider…How do I put it? Um, you-” She reaches out her hand to settle it on top of his, hoping her smile is soft enough that he can calm down.

“Hey, take a breath. Think about it. What are you trying to ask me?” she asks. He looks down at where her hand is resting on his, staring at it for a few beats before suddenly pulling his hand free and immediately grabbing hers with both hands.

“If I make my designs, will you model them for me? So that I can make sure that they work on a real person?” His gaze has found hers again, and her eyes widen slightly at the sudden forwardness. She blinks, brain rebooting to process his request. Just as his confidence seems to falter, she grins and places her free hand on top of the two grasping her other one.

“Yes! Of course, Asahi, I’d be happy to help you out,” she says. Tension melts from his entire body before her eyes and he smiles at her.

“Thank you,” he says, squeezing her hand. He tilts his head as he looks down at their hands, and his hair falls into his face. He releases her hand to tuck the hair back behind his ear. “I was nervous about asking. This is…It’s personal, you know? But I thought if there was anyone who I could share this part of it with, it would be you.” Céline smiles and dips her head for a moment, feeling bashful. When she lifts her head again, she squeezes the hand still clasped between hers.

“I’m glad you felt comfortable enough to ask. I’m looking forward to it,” she says. He smiles back at her, then she releases his hand and he scoots closer again, shifting the sketchbook to sit between them.

“Are there any that you really like? I have so many ideas, I don’t know what to make first,” he says. She hums, flipping back through a few pages.

“Do you feel like you can make all of these? Or should we start with something easy?” She glances at him and he purses his lips, brows furrowed as he thinks.

“I tried to make a skirt for my sister once. It wasn’t very good, so I’ve been practicing since then.” She looks back at the book, flipping to a page she saw earlier.

“What about this one?” she asks, pointing at the sketch. He looks down at it, and she watches as the gears work in his head.

“I think I could do that.” He glances at her. “Do you want to go fabric shopping with me?” She opens her mouth to reply only to stop when she hears the front door open.

“I am home!” Odette calls. Céline sets her hand on Asahi’s shoulder and flashes him an apologetic smile, silently promising to finish their conversation later. Aoki shifts on Asahi’s shoulders, stretching slightly as he wakes up.

“Welcome back!” she calls, standing up to leave the kitchen. Asahi follows behind her, hanging back a bit and startling when Aoki leaps down from his shoulders and pads toward Odette. “Hey, Dettie. How was your day?” While Odette crouches down to pet the cat, she glances up at her sister and smiles slightly.

“Very busy. But that is the way that I like it,” she says. Céline smiles, nodding.

“I know.” She glances back at Asahi, then looks back at her sister and takes a step back. “Odette, this is Azumane Asahi. Asahi, this is my sister, Odette.” Odette straightens and Asahi walks a bit closer, smiling nervously.

“Hello, Ms. LaRue. It’s nice to meet you properly,” he says, bowing to her. Odette’s eyes crinkle with amusement at their corners.

“It is very nice to be properly introduced to you as well, Azumane,” she says, bowing her head. When they both straighten, Odette smiles at him. “I understand that you will be joining us for dinner.”

“I’d like to. If you’ll have me,” he says. Odette chuckles softly.

“We are always happy to have guests in our home.” She looks over at Céline. “Go get changed. You’re going to help me make dinner.” Céline nods, then glances at Asahi to translate the French.

“She said-”

“I got it. You’ve been doing a good job of teaching me,” he says. She smiles.

“Be right back, then.” He nods and she hurries off to her room to get changed.

Odette stabs a carrot with her fork, sticking it in her mouth. She’d offered to make something that was a little less French, but Asahi had insisted that it was fine and he was excited to try a French dish. Céline peers at him between bites, trying to gauge what he thinks of it.

“Is it my understanding that Céline has been teaching you French, Azumane?” Odette asks. Asahi lifts his head, swallowing the food in his mouth as he nods.

“Yes, ma’am. I really wanted to learn and…Well, I also wanted to spend more time getting to know Céline, so I asked if she would teach me,” he says. Odette hums, an amused look on her face.

“I see. And I will assume that she has done a good job, if your comment earlier is anything to go by.”

“Yeah, she’s doing…Really great, actually. She’s a good teacher.” Odette glances over at Céline.

“I should expect nothing less. She prides herself in being good at as many things as possible,” she says. Céline groans slightly around her bite of beef, waving a hand at her sister dismissively. Odette chuckles, turning back to Asahi. “She also mentioned that you play for the volleyball team.” Asahi’s eyes widen slightly.

“Oh, yeah- um. Yes, I do, but we don’t have to talk about that,” he says, glancing at Céline. She swallows her food, smiling slightly.

“Relax. You can talk about volleyball in front of me. I’m not that fragile,” she says. He opens his mouth, maybe to object to the fragile bit, but Céline simply pats his shoulder and glances at Odette. Odette holds her gaze for a moment as she finishes chewing, then glances back at Asahi.

“You play in the wing spiker position, no? The same position that Céline played?” Asahi nods a little.

“Yes, that’s right.”

“And do you enjoy it?”

“Enjoy it?”

“Oui. I know that Céline always said she enjoyed the privilege of being a wing spiker. It is an important responsibility and takes a great amount of physical strength and mental durability,” Odette says. Asahi blinks, then glances over at Céline.

“That’s how you felt about being a wing spiker?” he asks, something sad in his eyes. She smiles softly at him.

“Asahi, that’s how I still feel about being a wing spiker. When I was captain and ace last year…It was the most incredible feeling. I loved being a wing spiker just as much as I love volleyball.” She shrugs and looks back at her food. “I didn’t quit because I stopped loving the game. I quit because of…” She trails off, then shakes her head and takes another bite from her stew. She can still feel Asahi’s gaze on her, but it eventually goes away as he shifts. His knee bumps against hers beneath the table, then settles as a firm pressure there. When she glances at him, he’s focused on eating his food, but the touch is definitely intentional. Her heart flutters a little and she looks away before she starts blushing, but lightly nudges his knee in return before settling it back where it was.

“Oh, I didn’t answer your question,” he says. “The pressure makes me nervous, but there really isn’t any position I’d enjoy playing more than wing spiker.” Odette hums.

“You are human, Azumane. Nerves are a fact of life. I would be more concerned if you did not get a little nervous,” she says. A beat passes.

“What-” Asahi cuts himself off, and Céline glances at him, then at Odette.

“What makes me nervous?” Odette prompts, her eyebrow raised in amusement. Asahi seems to shrink in on himself a little.

“You don’t have to answer that,” he says. Odette chuckles.

“You are so tense. I see what Céline means. Do not worry, though, everything she says is said with affection.”

“Dettie!” Céline hisses, heat flaring in her cheeks. Odette laughs at her reaction, then takes a drink from her glass of water.

“I was nervous when we moved to Japan, Azumane. Almost paralyzingly so,” she says after a moment. “My sister was newly under my care and I knew that I was the one solely responsible for her. I had brought her to a new country and was not even 18 yet, but I had taken it upon myself to raise my eight year old sister. Every choice I made brought incredible nerves. I still wonder if I have done enough to care for her. Of course, there are also much smaller things that make me nervous, such as forgetting about a client appointment or the possibility of stepping on the cat in the dark.” Céline stares at Odette for a long few seconds. Her sister rarely goes into depth about her own feelings from when they first moved to Japan, so it’s a little startling to hear it so openly. The fact that she had to do everything alone is incredibly heartbreaking. Céline dips her head to take another bite of stew.

“And here I am getting nervous about chemistry tests,” she mutters before sticking a beef chunk in her mouth. Asahi chuckles softly.

“Aren’t you still at the top of your class for chemistry?” he asks. She lifts her head.

“Yeah, and I have to bust my ass to be there!” she says, mouth half full. She catches Odette’s disapproving glance and quickly finishes chewing and swallows. “Do you know how good I am at math? I’ve never had to study math! But chemistry? I still have to call Tetsurou to help me study! I make a copy of my flash cards and mail them to him so he can quiz me over the phone! It’s ridiculous!” Asahi’s laughter is quiet, but warm, and a fuzzy feeling blossoms in her heart and spreads through her chest.

“Céline, finish eating your dinner. I do not want to deprive our guest of dessert before he leaves,” Odette says, her finger tapping against the table near Céline’s bowl. Céline perks up.

“Dessert?”

“You will not be getting any either if you do not finish up,” Odette says. Céline nods and quickly starts eating again. Asahi and Odette continue to chat, but Asahi’s knee remains pressed to Céline’s.

When it’s time for him to go, Céline walks Asahi to the door. She watches as he sits to put his shoes back on, hands behind her back.

“Sooo? Wasn’t so bad, was it?” she asks. Asahi lifts his head and smiles at her.

“No, it was…That was nice. Your sister is really cool, and the food was great,” he says. “I had a really good time.” She beams at him.

“I’m so glad!” she says. “I really hope we can do it again, then.” As he finishes tying his shoes, Asahi stands up, smiling at her sweetly.

“I’d love that,” he says. She walks over to the door and opens it for him, and he picks up his bag and moves to stand next to her. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Céline.” She nods, watching him step out the door and into the dark night.

“Asahi.” He looks back at her and she leans in the doorway, smiling at him. “About the modeling and everything, just let me know. Fabric shopping, fittings, whatever you want. I’ll just be happy to be there.” He stares for a beat, then smiles a little.

“Yeah, I’ll…That sounds good.” He lingers there and she stays at the door, the two of them just looking at each other. It eventually makes both of them laugh softly, and Céline steps out, arms spread as she crosses the gap and hugs him.

“It was really nice to have you over,” she says quietly. She hasn’t had a friend at her house since she and Odette moved to Miyagi. She’d almost forgotten how nice it is to welcome someone into her space. She also realizes that she hasn’t hugged anyone since they left Tokyo. Odette isn’t much of a hugger. So, when Asahi wraps his arms around her, a weight lifts from her chest.

“I’m glad that I came,” he mutters. She smiles to herself, then steps back. He looks back at her, then takes a breath and turns, stepping down from the porch and walking down the walkway to the street. He glances back at her before he turns to go home, and she lifts a hand and waves. He waves back, then finally starts heading home. She watches him go until he’s out of her sight, and a giddy feeling makes her heart leap. She rocks up on the balls of her feet and giggles.

“Céline, come inside and help me wash up from dinner,” Odette calls from inside. Céline turns back toward the house.

“Coming!” She glances in the direction Asahi went one more time, then smiles to herself and turns, bounding into the house and shutting the front door behind her.

#haikyuu #hq #haikyuu oc #hq oc #asahi azumane #azumane asahi #haikyuu asahi #lady writes #lady's ocs #haikyuu writing #OC: Céline LaRue #OC: Odette LaRue #oc x canon #because Cél is CRUSHING on him #lady writes oc stuff #lady's snippets

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