#ginjima

[youmarin]

Now Recruiting! ft. Inarizaki VB Boys - Part 8: Inarizaki v.s. Itachiyama

Summary: It’s time for the Summer Interhigh Tournament. Rivals face each other. And after, what will the next semester bring to the boys and Miss Manager?

Word count: 3,690 + Extra 12 (214)

previous, series masterlist

“Oi! I’m leaving, you know! Exhausting yourselves won’t help you out.”

“Just one more.” The setter said as he made his starting run. One. Two. Three. Four. Jump floater. Suna, who was on the other side of it, wasn't able to discern the real trajectory - or maybe he was already tired and began to half ass-, and took position too far up front. He received it. The only problem is he did so with his face. “Holy fuck!” Atsumu cursed and ran over to him.

“Suna!” You dropped the other volleyballs you had picked up on the cart - didn’t want to risk anyone tripping on one and getting injured. One’s never too safe- and ran over to check up on the dark haired boy lying on the ground.

“Are you okay?” You leaned over him from one side. He was blinking, probably trying to make out what had just happened to him. And there were three of you looking down on him. If he hadn’t been worried by the simultaneous numbness and hurt he felt on his face he might’ve thought he was having a dream.

“He should be okay. If it were a spike serve he might’ve passed out.” Everyone finds reassurance differently, you guessed.

“I’m fine.” He tried to sit by grabbing the hand Osamu was offering. He missed it.

“Think you might’ve given him a concussion?” Osamu tried again and gently helped him sit. Suna’s head spun for a moment but it slowly came back to focus. “What day is it?”

“2nd of August.” Suna answered as you inspected the red spot on his forehead, brushing his hair away from his face.

“Who hit ya straight on your snout?” No answer. “Oi. Suna, I’m speaking to you.”

“What?” He briefly looked away from your concerned eyes and looked over to where Osamu was by one side before returning to look at you. “Oh. ‘Tsumu did.”

“Okay, y/n, Imma need you step out for a moment.”

“What?” You looked at him, confused.

“You’re clearly distracting him. I can’t consider the integrity of this test if I don’t know if he’s concussed or just crushing on you.”

“Well, okay.” You left, still worried yet a bit flustered. “I’ll bring the first aid kit.”

Kita gave the team a fearsome earful for not going home after the countless times he told them to, making them warm up properly before leaving -and 10 extra laps to make things interesting-. After making sure that Suna was okay -Suna’s punishment got a rain check, but for now he was staring at his fellow second years, Akagi and a couple of first years, thinking he was on the clear- , you took care of his nosebleed, sitting on the court’s left side bench. He felt so lame right now. “I’m glad it wasn’t anything serious.”

“Of course it’s serious.” Suna answered, “Atsumu could’ve broken my nose or ruined my face.” You laughed.

“Well, he didn’t. But someone else might someday if you’re continuing this career path.”

“Not if I actually receive with my arms.”

You fell in a comfortable silence as you worked. You tilted his head and moved to wipe the blood off his lips and nose .

“How are you feeling?” You asked after a while. Suna straightened up and seeing as he wasn’t bleeding over his face and t-shirt anymore you considered it safe.

“I’m okay.” He nodded, trying to ignore how his surroundings blurred when he did. But when he stood up, you noticed the gone look that flashed in his eyes for a second.

“You’re still dizzy, aren’t you?” you quirked a brow, then chuckled softly, “Here.” proceeding to wrap one of his arms around your shoulders and put one of yours around his torso.

***

Everyone was busy. From afar, you could hear the faint melodies while the school band rehearsed. The cheering squad gathered their team and practiced their routines and mottos - the captain even asked if you were interested in joining them like last time-, and as every year it was expected that a great part of the student body would attend to support their team. It was a big moment for the whole community. Thankfully, the boys were used to all of it, and rather than feeling pressure over it, they couldn’t be more excited. They knew the extent of their capabilities and their responsibility. And as their team captain always said: There’s no point in being nervous if you know what you can do.

***

“Where’s y/n?”

“She has a talent of disappearing without anyone noticing.”

“It’s quite scary if you think about it.”

“She hasn't left. Her stuff’s on the bleachers.”

“I can’t wait to get over with this.”

“I know. I bet it’s been awfully hard for you to keep your mouth shut.”

“Guys,” They all turned when they heard you, “c’mon, we have to leave soon. Don’t even think of extra practice time today- Wait. What are you up to?” You eyed them warily. The boys were all huddled in a group, each set of eyes looking in your direction pairing with innocent smiles - which inspired the opposite of innocent intentions. No one could blame you for being suspicious -.

“We have a surprise for you.” Osamu said, stepping up. His twin grabbed what he was holding and didn’t give him a chance to protest before he was handing it over to you.

“A-A what? Why?” After all, you thought you were the one supposed to prepare them a gift given the occasion. You stared at the box with a little bow on top, then straight to the blonde’s smiling face and at the rest of the boys, at a loss for words.

“When someone offers you a present you don’t ask such questions. Just accept it.” Aran encouraged.

You reached for it, brushing hands with the setter as you grabbed it. “Thank you.”

“But since you asked,” Osamu started after glaring at his brother as you opened it and saw it, “We wanted you to know, if you still hadn’t figured it out, that you are as important to us as any of the members of the team.”

“We appreciate all the work you do, your kindness and you taking care of us.” Kita added.

In your hands, you held a familiar fabric of equally familiar colors. It was a shirt like the ones they used on their official matches: black, with the name of the team written in white bold letters on the front and your name on the back.

You felt warmth spreading all over your chest. They could be a handful sometimes, but this was your team and also your friends, and you were so proud of them.

You hugged the blonde boy in front of you , taking him by surprise yet he was quick to return it. When you pulled back, you beamed at him, and he was thankful the other guys joined for a hug and stole your attention from his burning face and pounding heart.

Morning came, and this morning was not one to wish to stay five more minutes in bed or to sit at the edge of it with your head lost in space. You were up in a beat, turning off your alarm before it could go off and dashing to the bathroom to get ready. Getting out, you got dressed up, your Inarizaki tee shirt under your jacket.

“Good morning.” your mom saluted, looking at you oddly for how animated you appeared this morning.

“Mornin’ mom.”

“Wait, you’re not having anything for breakfast?”

“Uh no,” you said, adjusting your bag on your shoulder before balancing on one leg while you put on one shoe, then doing so the other way, “I grabbed something for later though. Want to get to the club room before the boys to double check that everything's in order.”

“You have everything you need?” She asked and you ran over your mental note.

“Yeah, I think so.” You kissed her cheek goodbye when she came over to see you off, “I’m heading out. See ya later.”

“Good luck!”

All the boys were quiet during the ride over to the gymnasium where Interhigh Tournament would take place, and by all it means even Atsumu was sharing his earphones with his twin and was sitting quietly, bobbing his head softly to the beat of his music. He was lively, could even describe him as wild sometimes, but you could count on him to remain sober and serious on such big moments. Suna was nodding to whatever the captain was saying to him. It was a bit amusing and also endearing seeing him look a little nervous listening to Kita. Ginjima was speaking with his upperclassman Aran, while Omimi and Akagi chatted with the first years, which seemed to be the most nervous.

The gym was a large building, fit for the several matches that would be taking place simultaneously. You went with the coach and you were quick to find your section upon your arrival, leading the team inside. Bright lamps on the ceiling met your eyes as you looked up, taking in the scene, while the chilly air from the air conditioned space hit your face. Other teams were heading to their respective areas and some of the first contenders were already warming up on their side of the court.

Dropping their bags, the boys took off their school jackets and changed their tees to their uniform. Some put on their knee pads and arm sleeves before they all headed over to the court to start their warmup routine. Warmups and drills had also another purpose besides, well, getting ready for the game. It was also a time to show off; show your confidence, your skill to the opposite team, and what they were about to confront. If you knew how to do it, and the Inarizaki boys were infamous for that, you could lead them on with a bit of intimidation.

“C’mon show me your best one, ace.” Atsumu encouraged Aran, who gave his start before jumping in the air with excellent form and slamming the ball on the floor to the other side of the net with booming force. Smiling, the setter watched the ball bounce off, making eye contact with one of the players from the other team when he looked up, smile unwavering.

Other players achieved to make their rivals uneasy without meaning to. Kita was that type. As he carried out with his drills, purpose-set as usual, boys from the other team stared at the captain move seemingly effortlessly. Reputation also helped, as the known middle-blocker Suna Rintaro moved on the court with such familiarity as if he were back on the Inarizaki High gym.

Of course, they didn’t reveal everything then and there. It was only a taste before the real thing started. The boys were also good with the element of surprise.

The stands above began to fill up with students from the different schools of the prefecture and from outside, and volleyball fans overall. These sort of events always attracted people from all over, ages ranging from the youngest to the eldest.

You recognized your school, the band standing in their place and the cheering squad hanging the banner you had made on their spot. Soon enough, the ref blew his whistle calling for the coaches to hand him the information of their respective starting lineups and player positions. After, it was just a few more minutes before he called for the captains to decide which side served first.

*

When the boys’ first couple of matches were over and they’d won without major inconveniences, you rushed over to watch the other matches and keep track of the bracket.

“I think Inarizaki should be over too. You think they did alright?”

“Dunno. But if Miya plans to defeat us they better have.” The blonde may not be his favorite person, but the rivalry was there. And things wouldn’t be as interesting or fun without it.

At that moment as they turned to head over the court where your team’s match had taken place, Sakusa saw you coming.

“Y/n!” Motoya waved at you, “Good to see you.”

“Hi, guys.” you smiled, happy to find friends out of the multitude. They were carrying a towel around their shoulders and you took it as their most recent match had just finished as well. Sakusa’s otherwise neat kept locks were a bit messy, slightly damp by his sweat. His dark eyes emitted friendliness as he acknowledged you, even a small smile threatened to take over his features.

“Did you guys win?” He asked.

“Yeah.” You responded with a satisfied tone and knowing smile. “Did you?”

“You really had to ask?” Motoya said jokingly.

“So that means that if we both win our next matches,” you looked down at the papers on your clipboard.

“We’ll face each other.” Sakusa finished for you. “So you better make it.”

And both teams did make it and were bound to face each other.

The other matches had gone alright. The team never underestimated any of the others. Sure, someone could get a little over its head and there was a little taunting, but it was normal for players to mess with opponents psychologically.

But considering these two teams knew each other better, they felt as if there was this responsibility for each other to go all out for it to work and have a good match. Both teams didn’t seem as exhausted as they saluted each other in the middle of the court before their match started.

During the first minutes of the first set, the team made a few mistakes while the coach told them to get themselves together. He had to call for a time out before Itachiyama could further their lead. After that, things fell into a good rhythm for them and they took the first set.

The game went downhill for them from that point on. Itachiyama’s defense surpassed them, not letting a lot of the boy’s attacks land and prolonging the rallies. Even when both Suna and Aran were on the court they couldn’t earn enough points to steal another set. They knew how to find their weakest spots, and who to target. And things only got worse as the game continued and they grew more fatigued and frustrated.

Atsumu set the ball for Suna, but the latter wasn’t fast enough in his approach and had to hurriedly make the pass, without as much force as he would’ve liked.

“Feint!” Motoya called and another of the players called for the ball, easily receiving it. They spiked it over and Kita was there to readily pass it to Atsumu, who set it for Aran. The ace tried to hit over the blockers that were marking him, but the hit lost power as it hit one of the blockers' hands.

The road for Inarizaki ended with none other than Sakusa sending a spike over to their side.

*

The beginning of the second semester. Your second semester in your new school, and this time it wasn’t as daunting. Now, you had the boys from the volleyball team. You reached the school gates, and not long after crossing them, you found your fellow second years.

“Y/N!” Gin noticed you first.

“We gotta take a group photo.” Atsumu stated, leading Suna to ask a random student to take a picture of you. Awkwardly, the boy accepted Suna’s phone.

“Do we really have to?” First mistake.

“Are you saying you don’t want to take a photo with us? Do you even like us?”

“No! Of course not!- Wait. Hold up,” Nothing you were saying was coming up straight judging by his face. Even the other three seemed to deflate a little. “What I mean is that I do like you.” You said looking straight into the setter’s eyes. And why were his cheeks burning all of a sudden?

“Then why not take a picture?” Suna, who kept a digital record of everything he could, asked you. “It’ll be nice to look back at it.”

“I just don’t look very flattering in front of a camera.” you shrugged, trying to play down your insecurities. “Plus, we have taken plenty of photos together.” During games they always made you.

Of course, some of them had noticed you’ve been shy regarding the topic. But that wouldn’t be the end of it. “But we don’t have one of this moment.” Osamu said.

“If I may say, I think you’re very pretty, Y/n.” The boy, still holding Suna’s phone, nervously said. Suna quirked an eyebrow.

“Oh. Thank you.” Receiving compliments was nice. You wished you knew how to take them. It made you feel a little bad that you didn’t even know the boy’s name. But to be honest, you were bad with those too.

“Yes, she is. Glad your eyes are working dude. Now take the picture.” Atsumu shared his opinion but wasn’t thrilled to hear the boy shoot his shot right in front of his face. You ended up apologizing for him. Someone was a little on edge today.

They all looked at you, their expressions all saying, Please?

“Fine.”

Now, the other problem was picking where they would stand. Osamu ended up pushing his way between you and his twin, while Gin stood on your right. Since Suna was the tallest, he stood behind you. He whispered something in your ear, which made you smile and your face heat up.

After looking through the pictures, complaining about how he looked on some of them, the blonde finally broke down, “Did ya see that nonsense about a ceremony to recognize the team for our representation at Interhigh?”

You looked at the others searching for clues regarding the cause of Atsumu’s newest outburst, which was somehow related to the ceremony. Osamu’s expression denoted some sort of pain (now you had no doubt Atsumu was the cause of this pain), Gin hung his head, while Suna turned away, whistling. Thanks a lot, boys. Finally, your eyes settled back on the setter. “Uh… Yes, the coach sent me an e-mail about it. That’s great!-“ Osamu started gesturing and shaking his head. What? Did you say something wrong?

Okay, so the school wanted to recognize the volleyball team’s job in the tournament. Of course, there were some mixed feelings about it. The team had lost. But they’d reached finals and that landed them a spot at Spring High Nationals. They might’ve not won but still their hard work paid off. So that was good, right? That was what you thought before this conversation and the scene unfolding at the moment.

Second mistake.

“Oh yeah. Right. I mean, after all, the important thing is having fun. And second place is great.” Atsumu’s words were dripping with sarcasm. “We are the second best.” He gestured with his hands, making an arch. “It isn’t enough that we lost. No, they have to rub it in our faces calling us shitty names. Just outright call us a bunch of losers.” He muttered the last part. For a moment you had forgotten who you were talking to. Atsumu was one of the most competitive people you’ve ever met.

But still, he was dismissing a lot. “Okay, I get it. Second place might suck for you but you can’t just brush away all your and your teammates' sacrifice to get where you are.” There you were. They boys could always count on you to knock some sense into them. “But it’s good that you don’t settle. It makes you keep aiming high.” You smiled at him.

Atsumu stared at you for a moment. That funny feeling from the other day kept creeping and blooming all over his chest. And what was that fluttering on his stomach?

Osamu looked at him, waiting for his brother to speak again whether it be another complaint or another snarky comment. But when it took a few beats more than usual, it clicked to him.

“But…” Atsumu’s voice wavered a bit as he regained his composure and started walking behind you as you made your way to your classroom. The bell would ring soon. The rest followed you two. “It doesn’t mean I have to attend, right?”

“Uh, I think you should. You don’t want to be rude.”

“You’re saying that to one of the rudest, meanest people here.”

“I’m not mean!”

“Remember that girl that tried to give you homemade cookies she made herself and you said you weren’t interested in buying them?”

“It was a misunderstanding, Gin.”

“Sure it was.” Suna snorted, “And right after when she clarified, you didn’t accept them saying you had to take care of your weight.”

“We’re athletes. It’s very important to look after what we eat, and I didn’t know what she put on those.”

“You were stuffing your face right after eating pudding. And one of those was mine.”

“I told you I didn’t eat it!”

“Okay. That is pretty rude, Atsumu.”

“Whatever.” He frowned, “I’m not interested in any of those squealing girls. And this is besides the point.”

“Well,” you said, swerving back to the topic, “Think of it as a rehearsal. Years later, you become a pro player and something like this happens. You dislike it, but you go, show your face, be grateful,” You emphasize that point, “and then you leave. Even if you truly hate it. You can still complain all you want and we’ll hear you out.”

“ “We” sounds like a lot of people. I don’t know.” Ginjima scratched the back of his neck.

“Count me out.”

“I’ll hear you out.” you fixed.

“I guess I will too.” Osamu added. He didn’t think he'd have much choice. “And who knows, maybe one day you’ll learn about good sportsmanship.”

“Fake it ‘til you make it.”

“So you want me to be fake.” Atsumu stated.

“No.” you glared at Suna, hitting him in the arm - it felt more like a caress to him.-, making him chuckle. “Just,” you raised a finger, “Don’t be rude,” another, “be grateful,” the finale, “and go to your classroom you all.”

**

Extra 12: Shirt on or shirt off? [word count: 214]

“I’ll walk you to your dorm. I just need to arrange some things into the storage room first.” You said as you walked behind Suna towards their locker room and stood in the doorway while he grabbed his stuff, insisting on seeing him off safely.

“I feel better now. And it’ll be more late for you to get home. Who says I’ll let you go if you go with me?” Suna tried reassuring you and, why not, teasing you a little bit.

With lack of a response, he turned to look at you to find you blushing and mouth open to answer back, but settling on frowning.

Then your eyes traveled to his sweaty t-shirt, sticking to his chest and torso. A white tee, basically see-through at the moment, and the bloodstains on it. “Take your shirt off.”

Suna nearly knocks down the rest of his things. “What for?” Just how fast the tables turned. And the thing was you weren’t even trying to get him flustered.

“The blood. I might be able to get it off.” Then you turned around to give him privacy.

“Right.” He did as told. You reached your hand back for him to hand you the shirt, making him chuckle while doing so, and you were out of there.

A/N: Hello, dear readers! It’s been a while - a year 💀-. Happy 2024! I hope you’re all well and safe. I’m happy to see people are still enjoying and showing love to this series. And here we are with part 8! Funny, I started writing this part the day I posted part 7 and it took me this long to finish it. The extra was just added. I got a little confused with the tournaments’s stuff lol but I figured shit out (I think). Not that anything needs to be accurate but yk, helps the writing flow. Happy reading and see you next time, whenever that is! **slow updates**

[onnie-giri]

i like to think the inarizaki 2nd yrs routinely play a game of rock-paper-scissors before going to vb practices n whoever loses has to buy snacks for all 4 of them

guess who lost this round lol

[cantobear]

[w2mini]

“Inarizaki with a manager who…” randoms !!

warnings: reader is reserved, fem reader, swearing, platonic or romantic idgaf

IDK bout’ you guys, but every time I think about Inarizaki having a manager, I think about someone who:

Is stereotyped as your typical “quiet” and “reserved” demeanor girlie when in actuality—she just finds herself in a difficult position to open up to the boys. 😓

- I mean, who wouldn’t have a hard time, they’re like top two in the nation and HIGHKEY intimidating to be with, I have respect 4u girl. 🫡 but a job is a job. Kita recruited you since he had to balance his club and academics at one point (also following the coach’s suggestion).

Also should I just mention that you are such a beauty??? Like, maybe if you weren’t so pretty and mysterious then they wouldn’t be bothering you so much just to talk with you!! 😾

- Suna tries to small talk with you sometimes, keyword: tries (his way of trying is giving you the most unnoticeable hints that he wants to talk with you).

- Whenever you begin to feel tired during a long day in practice, Osamu won’t just let it slip past him and hands you some of his mint candy that he has to help you stay awake as he suggests. Yall chill like that🤞

- You and Kita are the ones who are always together, since you guys discuss about the team’s schedule and strategies alongside coach. But that’s just about it.

- Aran and Omimi tends to help you with your duties, especially if it requires lifting heavy weight or a lot of items to carry. We love gentlemen. 🫡

- Riseki is TOO shy to chat with you, but he’s trying his best I swear. 🥲 Your glamorous self just makes him feel like standing beside you feel like a huge offense.

- The closest (🤏) I would consider to be close to you is proably Akagi and Ginjima, they were the ones who approached you with a warm welcome and introduced you to the team as they showed you the ropes of being a manager.

As for Atsumu? I’m gonna need a whole separate section for him hol’ on.

- How do I even start with him.

- Because for the first time, he doesn’t attract your attention, he’s chasing for it.

- You’re supposed to praise him! fangirl over him! shower him with your undying attention! Not just awkwardly standing there and nodding every now and then! 😾

- Can’t you see how hurt his pride is. 😞 (his fault for expecting too much tbh 😹)

- His last straw was during when he was practicing his sets and you were there to watch. So when you approached him, he was expecting the words: “wow you’re amazing Atsumu!”

- Your response?

- “Miya you should probably extend your arms further more so you have better accuracy on the ball.”

- his jaw dropped to the floor.

- YOU? THE MANAGER? giving him TIPS?

- and what’s worst is that you were right and it genuinely improved his sets slightly better, oh he’s never forgetting about this.

But even after all that, you genuinely just could not bring yourself to be close and open up to them, your reason? a lot.

- The volleyball team of Inarizaki is undeniably well known around the campus and to be their manager is either a curse or a blessing.

- actually scrap that. It’s a fucking curse.

- number one. the top on the damn list. their fangirls.

- the amount of them that question you about the team is just too much for your poor social battery to handle. You were their victim number one to harass about the team. (props to Aran for always saving you during times like these 🙂‍↕️)

- which is also why you have a set of rules to yourself whenever you encounter one of the members in the campus: 1) walk quickly past them in the hallways, 2) only talk to them when they initiate it first, and 3) to never bring up anything about them around the campus.

- number two would be the team itself. why? very self explanatory. 😊

- you do not get an ounce of peace and rest around those guys. Especially Atsumu’s endless cycle of jokes and teasing just to get a reaction out of you.

- and that one time Osamu accidentally served a ball towards you. You were on the tribunes just taking notes. WHO SERVES AT THE TRIBUNES.

- but its okay, he bought you a snack as an apology after that on the convenience store run on the way home. His motherfucker of a twin however just laughed at you like a maniac.

- also the amount of strays you have to pick up during practice is EXHAUSTING. Being their manager made your spine feel like 85 years old.

However, you are genuinely such a hardworking girlie🥹 your actions spoke louder than words, it’s just your way of showing you care for them but sometimes you just don’t feel like it’s enough and you don’t think they notice it either because of how reserved you could be.

- Inarizaki’s volleyball team was independent, they didn’t need a manager.

- which is what they think.

- because ever since you arrived, Kita has felt a heavy weight lift off his shoulders (++ coach too). You’ve genuinely helped them in ways that you didn’t deem possible

- you also took notes of the smallest things or even the quiet observations about the team on your notebook (e.g. “Make sure Atsumu doesn’t forget about his water” or “Osamu gets grumpy if he skips meals” etc.)

- Although they may not be vocal about it or have mentioned about it—the team just has so much respect for you. To be able to manage a team like them is impressive. They don’t think anyone would be able to top your managing skills EVER.

So yeah, it kinda just went on like that… not for long. You strictly kept a classmate relationship between them and just went on being their manager—you do your job, but you kept a distance. That is until Inarizaki gets their win against another strong team.

It wasn’t anything serious or sad with what became the turning point in your relationship with the team, I’d say its very Inarizaki like.

- It happened when Inarizaki won against a really strong team, the game was fierce and stressful to watch, but in the end they were able to snatch the gold.

- Undeniably, the boys are all hyped. “We should celebrate! C’mon let’s go out to eat!” Akagi says as he excitedly suggested.

- the others agreed with the idea, especially a certain twin. On the way, they all discussed their orders and plans for later. In the end they all decided to go for ramen.

- You on the other hand kept silent. You decided it was best for you to go home already and let them have their fun, your social battery was draining anyways.

- which COULD’VE been the plan.

- Until Kita turns around to your direction, then offhandedly says: “You’re coming too right?”

- your brain short circuits.

- it doesn’t help with the fact now that the rest is also waiting for your answer.

- is this what they call peer pressure. 😵‍💫

- but it was in this moment that you realize that—they actually want you to be there. Not just as their manager, but as part of the team.

- So you agreed.

- It was a warm moment when you guys were inside the ramen bar, everyone made an effort to include you, making stupid jokes, teasing you slightly, sharing food, etc.

- And, probably for the first time ever, you were laughing with them.

- And, they all just. froze.

- Because they rarely saw you express emotions around them. Heck, not even a laugh!

- They all glanced at each other and nodded, yep, it was like they had antennas saying their common goal: to see you smile more.

In the end, Inarizaki needs a manager who can handle their shit—and love them anyway.

WOOO kinda short but hope u guys enjoyed, I just kinda wanted to share my thoughts BECAUSE every time I write about Inarizaki having a manager, I always imagine someone who’s just keeps to herself yk, but thas js me🤷‍♀️ Thats why I chose Haerin for today’s layout because the personality matches her sm lowk omg

I kinda wanna make this a series tbh, LIKE that one shiratorizawa series in Ao3 I FORGOT THE NAME but you guys know right….. right.

[noorpersona]

Confessions: Atsumu

You’ve known the Miya twins for as long as you can remember. They were the loudest boys on the playground, all scuffed knees and sunburned cheeks, their laughter carrying across the schoolyard like a war cry. Atsumu, the loudmouth with a cocky grin that drove teachers insane, and Osamu, the quieter one who always seemed two seconds away from dragging his brother out of trouble. You were caught in the middle—sometimes willingly, sometimes not—but you never complained. Being with them was easy. Natural. Like breathing.

“Yer too slow!” Atsumu had whined once, standing at the edge of the sandbox with his hands on his hips while you struggled to keep up. “Then go ahead without me!” you’d huffed, kicking sand in his direction, cheeks flushed and breathless.

But he never did.

No matter how many times you fell behind, no matter how many times Osamu rolled his eyes and threatened to leave you both behind, Atsumu always waited. And somehow, that pattern never changed.

Years passed. Middle school turned into high school. The three of you didn’t hang out as much anymore—between club activities, exams, and life pulling you in different directions, it was harder to find the time. But you still showed up. For them.

You never missed a game, sitting in the stands with Osamu’s mom and cheering as loud as the rest of the Inarizaki fans. You watched Atsumu serve with impossible precision, eyes narrowing with focus before the ball left his hand. You watched Osamu spike with terrifying accuracy, his smirk barely contained afterward. You were proud of them both, proud to see them rise, proud to be part of the crowd that supported them.

“Yer comin’ to the next match, right?” Atsumu asked one afternoon after practice, leaning against the fence with his bag slung over his shoulder. His hair was damp, a few stray strands sticking to his forehead, and his uniform was loose, hanging casually over his broad frame. The sun was dipping lower, casting warm orange hues across the field where a few stragglers still kicked a soccer ball around. You glanced up from your phone, pretending to be nonchalant. “I always do, don’t I?” His grin stretched wide—cocky and confident, just like always—but there was something in his eyes. Something… uncertain. Hidden beneath the bravado. “Just checkin’.” He kicked at the dirt, scuffing his sneaker against the pavement. “Ya don’t gotta, y’know. Betcha got better things to do than watch us all the time.”

Osamu was the one who noticed it first, the subtle shift in Atsumu’s behavior. It was after another win, and the three of you had gone out to grab a bite. Atsumu was unusually quiet, barely picking at his food while you and Osamu bickered over the best dipping sauce for karaage. “Oi,” Osamu had muttered under his breath when you went to the counter to grab more napkins. “What’s with ya?”

“Nothin’,” Atsumu had mumbled, poking at his plate, but Osamu’s eyes had narrowed. “Ya never shut up. Now yer quiet? Somethin’s up.”

“Nothin’s up,” Atsumu insisted, but Osamu didn’t look convinced. He shot his brother a look but didn’t press further. Later that night, as you waved goodbye and promised to see them at the next game, Osamu lingered behind. “He’s actin’ weird,” he muttered, watching Atsumu walk ahead. “Ya notice?”

You had laughed, brushing it off. “When isn’t he weird?”

It wasn’t until you started talking about someone else—Takahiro, a guy from your class—that things started to change. He was smart, funny, and polite in a way that seemed almost too perfect. You didn’t even realize how often you were mentioning him—how your eyes lit up when you talked about how he made you laugh during group projects, how he texted you after class to ask if you understood the material. At first, Atsumu barely reacted. Just a quirk of his brow and a half-hearted, “Huh. Cool.” But then it happened again. And again. And suddenly, Takahiro’s name was slipping into conversations more often than not, and Atsumu noticed. Every. Single. Time.

He didn’t say anything to you about it. But he did talk to Osamu.

“He likes her, don’t he?” Atsumu had muttered one afternoon, his voice low, barely audible as they sat in the back of the gym after practice. His knees were drawn up, elbows resting loosely on them while he picked absentmindedly at the tape around his fingers, pulling at the frayed edges like they held the answers to his problems.

Osamu raised a brow, glancing sideways at his brother. “Who? Takahiro?” His tone was neutral, but the way he looked at Atsumu was anything but.

“Yeah.” Atsumu’s jaw clenched as he peeled another strip of tape from his skin, eyes fixed on the floor. “She’s always talkin’ about him lately. Laughin’ at his dumb jokes. Her face lights up when she talks about him.”

“Since when do ya pay attention to that kinda thing?” Osamu’s tone was teasing, but there was something careful underneath it, something that probed deeper.

“I don’t.” Atsumu’s answer was too fast, too defensive. His fingers stilled against his knee, tape forgotten as he shifted, posture rigid.

Osamu tilted his head, watching his brother closely. “Right.” Silence stretched between them for a beat, thick and unspoken. “So, why do ya care?”

“I don’t.” Atsumu’s voice was quieter this time, almost too quiet. But his jaw was tight, his eyes dark with something Osamu didn’t need to ask about.

Osamu exhaled softly, leaning back and folding his arms behind his head. “Yer full of shit, y’know.” He didn’t push, didn’t ask any more questions. But his words lingered in the air, hanging heavy between them. Atsumu didn’t respond, and Osamu let it go—for now. But the silence that followed spoke louder than anything Atsumu could’ve said.

You started noticing the shift after that. Atsumu was different—quieter around you, shorter with his words. His usual sharp remarks didn’t carry the same playful edge anymore. They were clipped, like he was forcing himself to stay distant. At first, you thought he was just tired. Volleyball took its toll, and with nationals approaching, it wasn’t unusual for the entire team to be running on fumes. But this was different. His usual warmth was gone, replaced by something colder, something heavier that settled in the pit of your stomach. His eyes didn’t linger on you the way they used to, and when they did, there was something in them you couldn’t place. Frustration? Hurt? You weren’t sure, but it left a bad taste in your mouth.

It all came to a head during the next game.

It was an intense match—one where every point mattered, the air thick with anticipation. You were in your usual spot in the stands, cheering louder than most of the crowd, but this time… you weren’t alone. Takahiro was beside you, leaning in close, his shoulder brushing yours as he whispered something in your ear that made you laugh. You didn’t notice the way Atsumu’s eyes flicked toward you, sharp and fleeting, but he saw it. He saw the way you smiled—soft and genuine, eyes crinkling at the corners—and it knocked the air out of his lungs.

It burned.

Atsumu’s jaw tightened, his fingers curling a little too tightly around the ball as he lined up his serve. He tried to shake it off, to focus on the game, but your laugh echoed louder than the roar of the crowd in his ears. His heartbeat pounded in his chest, faster, harder, until it drowned out everything else. The whistle blew. He tossed the ball, went through the motions—but his mind wasn’t in it. His focus was shattered, replaced by a tangled mess of emotions he didn’t know how to deal with.

The ball sailed too far.

Out of bounds.

By a mile.

The murmur that rippled through the crowd was deafening in his ears. Atsumu’s jaw clenched so hard it hurt, his teeth grinding together as he forced himself to breathe through the frustration. He didn’t look at you after that. He couldn’t. But he felt it—your eyes on him, concern etched into your features, even as you turned back to Takahiro. The tension settled like a weight in his chest, suffocating and inescapable.

Throughout the rest of the game, Atsumu was off. His sets were technically perfect, but they lacked their usual precision. His timing was a second too late, his movements a little too forced. The fire that usually burned in his veins, the one that made him relentless on the court, was barely a flicker. And no one noticed but Osamu.

“Get yer head outta yer ass, ‘Tsumu,” Osamu muttered under his breath during a timeout, his voice low enough that only Atsumu could hear. “Yer messin’ up, and I know why.”

Atsumu didn’t respond, eyes locked on the floor, jaw clenched. But Osamu wasn’t done. “If ya don’t fix it, we’re gonna lose. And if we do, it’s on you.”

By some miracle, Inarizaki still scraped by with a win—but barely. Atsumu was the first one off the court when the final whistle blew, not bothering to stick around as the team lined up to thank the crowd. His skin was crawling, frustration boiling beneath the surface as he tore off his sweat-soaked jersey and tossed it into his bag. He needed to clear his head. He needed to breathe.

And you? You noticed.

“Where’s Atsumu?” you asked, concern lacing your voice as you turned to Osamu while everyone congratulated the team. Osamu’s eyes flickered toward the gym, his expression neutral but his tone softer than usual. “Needed some air,” he muttered, his voice quiet but knowing. “Ya know how he gets.” And that was all it took.

Your chest tightened. Something told you this wasn’t just about a bad game.

“Oi, Miya!” Takahiro’s voice broke through the hum of post-game chatter as he stepped forward, flashing a bright smile. “Hell of a match out there. You guys pulled through in the end.” His words were polite, his tone smooth, but the second they left his mouth, the atmosphere shifted.

Ginjima, who was standing nearby, narrowed his eyes, barely masking his distaste as he gave Takahiro a once-over. His lips pressed into a thin line, and for a second, it looked like he was about to say something. "So, ya think—"

But before he could finish, Aran stepped in, his usual easy-going demeanor firming up as he gave Takahiro a curt nod.

“Thanks,” Aran cut in smoothly, his tone polite but clipped just enough to send a message. “Appreciate it.”

Takahiro, oblivious to the silent exchange, just smiled and gave a thumbs-up. “No problem. You guys really pulled through.”

You felt the tension rolling off Ginjima, and even Kita’s usually neutral expression was unreadable as his eyes flickered between Takahiro and the team.

You lingered with the team for a little while longer, standing by Aran as he exchanged a few polite words with Takahiro, who was blissfully unaware of the underlying tension. You nodded along, adding the occasional "yeah" or "for sure" as Takahiro talked about how intense the game had been and how impressed he was by Inarizaki's performance. But your mind was elsewhere.

Atsumu’s absence gnawed at you. The way he’d left the court so quickly, the frustration rolling off of him in waves—it didn’t sit right. Something was wrong, and no matter how much you tried to focus on the conversation happening around you, the pit in your stomach wouldn’t go away.

Eventually, as the crowd began to thin out and the post-game buzz started to fade, Takahiro turned to you with that same easy smile. "We’re all gonna grab something to eat after. You coming?"

You hesitated, your heart tugging you in a different direction. "Hey… I think I’m gonna head home," you said softly, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. "I’m kinda tired."

Takahiro’s brow furrowed slightly, concern flickering across his face. "You sure? We were all gonna hang out for a bit."

“Yeah, I’m sure,” you replied, offering him a quick, reassuring smile. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

He hesitated for a moment before nodding. "Alright… text me when you get home, yeah?"

“Of course.”

But you had no intention of going home.

As Takahiro rejoined the group, you slipped away, weaving through the crowd without a second glance. Your feet moved on instinct, carrying you back toward the gym, where you knew exactly where Atsumu would be. Something gnawed at your gut, telling you this wasn’t just about a bad game. You could feel it, a weight settling in your chest, making it hard to breathe.

As you got closer to the gym, the familiar sound of volleyballs slamming against the floor echoed through the quiet night. The steady thump reverberated through the empty halls, each hit carrying a frustration that was almost palpable. Your steps slowed as you approached the entrance, the muffled grunts of effort and the sharp sound of rubber meeting wood growing louder with each step.

When you reached the doorway, you stopped, heart hammering in your ears as you took in the sight before you. Atsumu was there, just as you’d known he would be. Sweat dripped from his forehead, his hair damp and sticking to his skin. His jersey was clinging to his back, soaked through, and the gym floor was littered with scattered volleyballs, some rolling lazily across the surface after missed targets. But Atsumu wasn’t slowing down.

His jaw was clenched, his eyes locked on an invisible target as he tossed another ball into the air, his muscles flexing as he jumped, body coiling with raw power. The crack of the ball echoed through the gym as it slammed into the floor, and a grunt of frustration escaped his lips, reverberating off the walls.

You stood there, frozen for a moment, watching him pour every ounce of frustration and anger into each serve. He didn’t notice you. Not yet.

“You're gonna break the damn floor at this rate.”

Your voice echoed across the empty gym, but Atsumu didn’t stop. He tossed another ball into the air, his muscles flexing as he jumped, slamming it with a grunt that reverberated off the walls. The ball ricocheted off the floor and hit the back wall with a loud thud. His breathing was heavy, shoulders rising and falling with each ragged inhale.

“Go home.” His voice was clipped, laced with exhaustion and something sharper. He didn’t turn to look at you, eyes locked on the next ball he was already lining up.

“Atsumu,” you said softly, stepping further into the gym. “Talk to me.”

“There’s nothin’ to talk about.” He tossed the ball, and another loud thwack echoed through the gym as the ball hit the floor. “Go home.”

But you didn’t move.

“Not until you tell me what’s wrong.” Your voice was firmer this time, crossing your arms as you stood your ground. But then, as Atsumu lined up another ball, ready to serve, you couldn’t take it anymore. Your feet moved before your brain caught up, and you stepped forward, planting yourself right in front of him.

“Atsumu, stop.”

His eyes widened in surprise, the ball still gripped tightly in his hand, but you didn’t back down. You stood your ground, heart pounding as you met his gaze head-on.

“Move,” he muttered, his voice low, but there was no real heat behind it.

“No,” you said firmly, your voice unwavering. “I’m not moving until you talk to me.”

“Why even bother?” His voice was sharper now, but there was something raw beneath the anger. “Go back to yer boyfriend. Bet he’s waitin’ for ya.”

You blinked, stunned by the venom in his words. “Boyfriend? You mean Takahiro?”

“Yeah, him.” He finally turned, eyes blazing with something you couldn’t quite place—hurt, frustration… jealousy? “Bet he’s real smitten with ya, sittin’ in the stands, watchin’ ya smile at him like that.”

Your brows furrowed, confusion flashing across your face. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Don’t play dumb,” Atsumu snapped, his voice rising. “I saw ya. Laughin’ at his jokes, lettin’ him get close. Ya looked real happy. Real fuckin’ happy.”

“That’s what this is about?” Your voice sharpened, anger bubbling to the surface. “You’re pissed because I was talking to Takahiro?”

“Oh, I dunno,” Atsumu drawled, his tone dripping with mock sweetness as he dropped the ball and crossed his arms. “‘Takahiro’s so nice,’” he mimicked, his voice going higher, mimicking yours in an exaggerated, sing-song way. “‘Takahiro helped me with my assignment.’ ‘Takahiro said the funniest thing today.’” He scoffed, his expression darkening as he took a step closer, his eyes flashing with something dangerously close to jealousy. “Ya never shut up about him.”

If you weren't pissed before, you sure as hell were now.

Your jaw clenched, heat rushing to your face as your hands balled into fists at your sides. “What the hell is your problem?”

“What’s my problem?” He let out a bitter laugh, eyes narrowing. “Maybe I’m just sick of listenin’ to ya gush about him like he hung the damn moon.”

“Are you serious right now?!” You raised your voice, the frustration bubbling over. “You’re actin’ like a damn child, Atsumu!”

“Maybe I am!” Atsumu’s voice shot up, matching yours as his face flushed with anger. He stepped forward, closing the distance between you, his eyes locked on yours with a heat that made your pulse race. “But at least I’m not the one actin’ blind to what’s right in front of me!”

“Blind to what?!” You threw your hands in the air, voice sharp and cutting as you took a step toward him, closing the space between you until there was barely any room left. Your chest brushed his as you tilted your chin up to meet his fiery gaze. “Why do you even care so much, Atsumu?!”

“Why do I care?!” He was practically towering over you now, his breath hot and ragged as his jaw clenched, his eyes burning with frustration. “Because ya never stop talkin’ about him! ‘Takahiro this, Takahiro that!’ It’s all I ever fuckin’ hear!”

“Maybe I wouldn’t if you didn’t act like you don’t give a damn about me!” Your voice cracked, but you didn’t back down, standing your ground even as the tension between you became suffocating.

“I don’t give a damn?!” Atsumu’s voice was louder now, the frustration bleeding into his tone as he stepped even closer, his chest brushing against yours. “You’re the one who’s been actin’ like I’m invisible! Like I’m just—just some guy while yer out there with him!”

“Then why didn’t you say something?!” You screamed, voice echoing through the gym, your frustration boiling over. Your hands were trembling now, knuckles white from how hard you were clenching them at your sides. “Why do you even care so much?!”

“Because I love you!”

The words erupted from him, loud and raw, his voice breaking as the confession echoed through the gym and filled the space between you. His chest heaved, his face flushed from a mix of anger and desperation, and his eyes—wide, vulnerable, and filled with something you hadn’t seen before—were locked onto yours.

You froze, the weight of his words crashing down like a tidal wave, leaving you breathless, your heart pounding in your ears. The world went silent, and for the first time since you’d stepped into that gym, neither of you had anything left to say.

Your heart hammered against your ribcage as you stared at him, his chest still heaving from the force of his confession. The air felt thick, suffocating, as your mind raced to process what he had just said. Seconds stretched on, but you didn’t move. You couldn’t.

Then, without thinking, without giving yourself a chance to second-guess it, you stepped forward. Your eyes locked on his, your expression unreadable, and before he could say another word, you grabbed the front of his jersey, yanking him down.

"You’re so fucking stupid," you whispered, barely loud enough for him to hear.

And then you kissed him.

It wasn’t soft or hesitant. It was fierce, fueled by weeks—no, months—of pent-up frustration, confusion, and feelings you had pushed down for far too long. Your lips crashed into his, and Atsumu froze for half a second before he was kissing you back with just as much desperation. His hands found your waist, pulling you impossibly closer, and the world around you blurred until nothing else existed.

The anger, the yelling, the unspoken words—they all melted away, leaving only the two of you, tangled in the heat of the moment, finally giving in to everything you’d both been too stubborn to admit.

[ferigrievous]

attractive things they do ; inarizaki ver . ⋆˚࿔

atsumu ; chews on everything. its such a pet peeve to everyone else but you somehow. chews on everything like its got answer. its really dumb, but kind of endearing in a way. he always needs something in his mouth, pencaps, straw ends, hoodie strings.

osamu ; lets you have the first bite of everything. no matter how excited he is about the food, how expensive or scarce, he always lets you have the best, and the first bite. he acts like it’s no big deal, but it is. he’ll even rotate the plate to angle the best part toward you, like you wouldn’t notice.

kita ; fixing things that arent his. he quietly straightens someone’s collar, or pluck the dandruff out of their hair without asking. doesnt call attention to it, he just does it like its the natural thing to do. doesn’t call attention to it, doesn’t expect anything back. like its just the way things are.

suna ; holds back his laughs. he very rarely laughs big like either of the miya twins, and doesnt have a naturally quiet laugh like kita. he just smirks, looks down, and exhales through his nose, or lets out a breathy chuckle. covers his mouth with the back of his hand and looks away.

aran ; pacemaker. always waits for everyone to keep up, even if it means he’s a couple steps behind everyone else. doesnt want to leave anyone behind. turns his head back mid-walk just to check no one got left behind. never hurries anyone, never complains.

ginjima ; brings an extra pair of everything. extra pencils, extra snacks, extra change. never asks to be repaid, either. just wordlessly passes it to whoever needs it without any fuss. if someone needs something he doesnt have, he’ll start bringing that, too.

akagi ; remembers weirdly specific stuff. will question you if you start using a different font on instagram, or if you start holding your pencil a different way. the littlest things you never noticed, but also somehow misses if you got a haircut or got new glasses. “you used to dot your i’s with circles. when’d you stop?”

[ req for ; @dottydoe ]

[sereiiinnn]

Fox marching

Art for event 稲荷崎 : 百鬼夜行

[hiolovesnejihyuga]

INARIZAKI'S REACTION TO: you lost your voice.

ft: all inarizaki players.

warnings. not proofread. feminine pronouns. use of (y/n) once, i think. may contain spelling and grammar mistakes. translated from spanish (my mother tongue) with google translator (don't bully me, please)

author note. i'm so sorry if any of the characters are ooc, i'm new to writing for canon and not original characters.

When you showed up to practice, just nodding your greetings and offering smiles, without any sound coming out of your mouth, the team malfunctioned and panicked.

But before they could even ask, they heard multiple sounds coming from everyone's phones.

Suna is probably the one who checks what's up, and he's hit with a message you sent to the group chat.

“Hey, so- I lost my voice for a couple of weeks, so I'll communicate like this.”

KITA SHINSUKE

“…For weeks?”

Immediately shifts into protective mode.

Tells you to rest and avoid straining yourself. Doesn't want you to show up to practice, but if you do anyway, he'll just sigh it off.

Silently worried but doesn’t show it much.

OJIRO ARAN

“Ah, damn… that’s rough.”

Feels bad for you and tries to be extra considerate.

Helps you communicate when others struggle to understand, though it took him a few days to get used to checking his phone when talking to you.

AKAGI MICHINARI

“WAIT, WEEKS?! LIKE—YOU WON’T TALK AT ALL?!”

Panics instantly.

Tries to make you laugh, realizes you can’t respond out loud. Now panicking more.

He jokes about it, but if you glare at him, he'll stop. then the next day, he starts again

OMIMI REN

"...Weeks? No talkin'?"

The silence from Omimi is deafening. His usual stoic demeanor falters slightly as the situation hits.

He tilts his head, his sharp eyes narrowing slightly. His mind seems to be calculating the implications—how he’ll communicate with you without your usual voice, how you’ll handle everything, and how long they’ll have to adjust to this.

"...I guess we’ll all have to adjust... somehow."

KOSAKU YUUTO

“So you’re tellin’ me… No teasin'? No witty remarks? No laughin' at our dumb moments?”

Looks genuinely heartbroken.

Promises to ���speak double” to make up for your silence. Everyone, including you, just nod.

GINJIMA HITOSHI

“…Who do I need to fight?”

Doesn’t know how to handle it, so he just silently pats your head.

He tells you things like "you're brave for coming to school like this!", and you can't even get mad at him when he forgets you can't talk.

MIYA ATSUMU

“So yer tellin’ me I got a couple weeks without ya roastin’ me? Damn, what a loss.”

Pretends to be chill but is actually worried.

Immediately starts texting you memes just to make you feel better.

Promises to “speak double” to make up for your silence. Everyone groans, and you just shake your head.

“WHAT WAS THAT?! WHY DIDN'T YA REACT THE SAME WHEN KOSAKU SAID IT?”

MIYA OSAMU

“Hate to say it, but we’re doomed. We need subtitles now.”

Buys warm drinks for you and forces you to rest.

He may even buy you a snack, to let you know that even if you can't talk, you are appreciated.

SUNA RINTARO

“…Kinda eerie without ya talkin’.”

Texts you random things to keep you entertained.

Helps you communicate with the team subtly, but definitely teases you about it.

Him and you texting, even if you were next to each other, has always been a normal thing. So it didn't change much.

RISEKI HEISUKE

“Wait, wait, wait—so, like, not talking at all?”

Actually devastated, and slightly shy because he doesn't know what to do or say.

Spends way too much time trying to figure out hand signals for communication.

extras.

Everyone starts learning how to communicate without words.

They text you or use notes when needed.

Some try to make you laugh and immediately regret it because you can't, and you are left with a sore throat (more than before)

Atsumu still annoys you, but in written form.

Suna takes advantage and texts you things like “blink twice if you think Atsumu is an idiot.” which you do.

Kita becomes your personal health supervisor.

The entire team becomes extra soft with you.

more under the cut.

After practice, Akagi keeps texting you jokes, Ginjima texts you a small phrase for support, Kosaku continues the conversation you were having before.. All that while the Miyas are arguing. Then, you give, not only to Atsumu and Osamu, but to the whole team a deadpan-blank stare, Aran says to the twins: "See? She's yellin' at you two in her head."

"She's watchin' you too, y'know?"

Then, a message notification pops up on everyone's phones.

"Why on earth are you texting me, when I'm the one who can't talk? I'm listening to you all.”

KITA SHINSUKE, OMIMI REN

They don’t even flinch. Just nod and move on like nothing happened.

Because nothing happened, they were the only ones who realized that even if you had no voice, you could hear them.

OJIRO ARAN

“…Oh.”

Feels dumb but just laughs it off.

Apologizes but still keeps texting you out of habit.

He may even develop a new talent.

The new talent: understanding you in conversations where you only nod or blink at him.

AKAGI MICHINARI

“Wait, so we didn’t HAVE to text?”

Visibly malfunctioning.

Yells, “WHY DIDN’T YA SAY SO?—oh, wait.”

Feels a little guilty when you glare at him.

KOSAKU YUUTO

“(Y/N). YA COULD'VE TOLD US.”

Immediately regrets saying that.

Facepalms. Hard.

Akagi laughs at him, because he said the same thing. you glare at them so hard that they don't speak for the next hour.

GINJIMA HITOSHI

“…I feel so stupid.”

Laughs at himself.

Says, “But be honest—wasn’t it funny watchin' us suffer?”

When you nod, with a teasing smile, he laughs again.

MIYA ATSUMU

“…Yer tellin’ me I wasted all my good jokes in text form for nothin’?!”

Actually offended.

Probably starts talking even MORE dramatically just to make up for the silence. everyone groans collectively.

MIYA OSAMU

“…So we just did all that for no reason?”

Shakes his head and walks away.

Will never let you live it down, and makes you promise you'll buy him food later even if that promise doesn't even make sense.

SUNA RINTARO

“…You enjoyed this, didn’t you?”

Just smirks. He doesn't care, because he probably already knew.

Takes a screenshot of the text and never lets you forget it.

RISEKI HEISUKE

“Damn. We really ARE idiots..”

Actually impressed at your patience for not telling them earlier.

Probably overthinks every conversation for the next week.

extras.

Half of them feel embarrassed.

Half of them find it hilarious.

Atsumu won’t shut up about it.

Suna 100% sends the screenshot to the team group chat, even if you sent the message there.

Kita and Omimi just nod and move on, they forget about it the next day.

Akagi is still yelling about it five minutes later.

You definitely knew they would be this stupid, and you surely let them struggle on purpose.

tags:

[your-local-simp-writers]

Secret Santa

Word Count: 5615

Warnings: None

Headcanons: Inarizaki x Fem! Manager ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

Day 1: The Name Exchange The excitement for Inarizaki’s first-ever Secret Santa was contagious as Y/N stood before the volleyball team, the Santa hat in her hands rustling with small slips of paper. She couldn’t help but smile at the eager looks and hushed anticipation around her as the team huddled closer, trying to catch a glimpse.

“Alright, listen up, everyone!” she called out, her voice cutting through the chatter. “Each of you has a name in here. Draw one, keep it a secret, and remember—two weeks until the big reveal! We’ll meet at my place the night before Christmas for the exchange.”

A few groans of playful protest mixed with laughter. Suna nudged Aran with a smirk, teasing him about what he might end up with. Atsumu made a big show of cracking his knuckles, promising he’d find the ultimate gift—“as long as I don’t get Osamu’s name,” he joked, earning a light shove from his twin.

Y/N went around with the hat, watching as the players reached in, each drawing their slip with a sense of mystery and excitement. There were chuckles, a few raised eyebrows, and Atsumu muttering dramatically, “Oh, the suspense!” as he held his slip close to his chest, causing the others to roll their eyes.

When Y/N drew her own name, her eyes lit up as she unfolded the paper. Aran! She’d always thought of him as a dependable friend, and she immediately wanted her gift to show how much she valued him. Her mind buzzed with ideas as she pictured his usual calm, steady smile, and the warmth he brought to the team. Maybe she could do something unexpected, something unique that would make him feel genuinely appreciated.

Kita, on the other hand, had approached the hat with his usual calm demeanor, but as he unfolded his slip and saw Y/N’s name, his heart skipped a beat. He rarely showed his emotions openly, yet the weight of choosing something that would resonate with her felt both daunting and exciting. As captain, he knew her value to the team better than anyone, her quiet dedication and the way she supported each player in her own way. He found himself already thinking of what might make her smile, what could show her how appreciated she truly was.

As the last names were drawn and the team dispersed, everyone left the gym with a bit of holiday spirit—and a bit of secret anticipation—in the air.

Day 2: Observing Clues

The second day after drawing names, Y/N was back in the familiar buzz of Inarizaki’s gym. The faint echo of sneakers squeaking against polished floors and the steady thud of volleyballs filled the air as the team warmed up. It was one of those crisp winter mornings where sunlight poured through the high windows, casting long, amber streaks across the gym floor. Y/N leaned against the wall, taking notes on her clipboard, glancing up periodically to watch the boys’ drills. Her gaze, however, kept drifting to Aran.

He was in the middle of stretching with Suna, the two exchanging banter over a missed shot from the last game. Y/N caught herself smiling, noticing how Aran’s laughter seemed to resonate warmly in the cool gym air. Then, as practice wrapped up and the team headed for water, she noticed the telltale sign—Aran reached for his headphones, that familiar gesture he did every day. His music routine. She watched as he carefully untangled the wires, placing one earbud in as he leaned back against the wall, eyes drifting closed, nodding subtly to whatever song he had queued up today.

Seizing the moment, Y/N approached him casually, making her way across the gym while dodging stray volleyballs. She leaned against the water cooler next to him, the sound of clinking ice and the hum of the vending machine filling the space. “Hey, Aran!” she called, trying to sound offhand. “Got any good songs lately?”

Aran cracked one eye open, pulling the earbud halfway out. “Oh, hey, Y/N,” he said, his grin easy and relaxed. “Just my usual stuff. You know, same ol’ songs on repeat. Keeps me grounded after a long practice.” He chuckled, clearly embarrassed about his routine, but Y/N could tell music was something he genuinely enjoyed.

She tilted her head thoughtfully, filing the detail away. “You should send me some recommendations sometime,” she teased lightly. “Gotta keep up with what everyone’s listening to, you know?”

Aran laughed, scratching the back of his neck. “Yeah, sure. I don’t know if it’s anything special, but I’ll send a few songs your way.”

Y/N left the interaction with a grin, her mind racing with ideas. A custom playlist and a quality portable speaker—that was it. Something personal but useful, a gift that would fit seamlessly into his life. She turned away to note her thoughts on her clipboard, nearly colliding with Kita, who was silently observing her as he collected water for himself.

He straightened up, his posture composed as always, but his gaze lingered on Y/N’s bag. It was the same bag she always carried: large, slightly battered, with straps that had seen better days. He noticed how she constantly adjusted it during practice, the way she shifted it to one shoulder as she darted between players to pass out towels, check equipment, and manage schedules.

Kita cleared his throat softly, catching her attention. “Y/N, your bag seems... well-used,” he remarked, voice calm but attentive.

She glanced down at the worn fabric, smiling fondly. “Yeah, it’s seen a lot, huh? But it’s my good luck charm. I feel like I can’t do my job without it,” she laughed, giving it a small pat.

Kita nodded thoughtfully, making a mental note. The bag, he realized, was more than just a tool for her; it was part of her rhythm as the team’s manager. If he found something similar—something just as sturdy and functional but with a touch of style—it might be the perfect way to show his appreciation. He allowed himself a small, determined smile, resolved to find a gift that would support Y/N as seamlessly as she supported them.

As the players returned to the court, Y/N and Kita both fell into the rhythm of practice, but both kept a quiet, secret excitement bubbling beneath the surface, each imagining how their gifts might surprise and delight their Secret Santas.

Day 6: Ideas Taking Shape

The gym was alive with the sound of sneakers squeaking against the polished court, the soft rhythm of volleyballs bouncing against the floor, and the occasional shout of encouragement from the players. Y/N stood near the bench, her clipboard tucked under her arm, keeping an eye on the practice while brainstorming her gift for Aran. The air smelled faintly of the gym’s polish and the chalky scent of the volleyball court.

She had been observing Aran more closely over the past few days, trying to get a better sense of what he might appreciate. As he hit a spike across the court, a slight grin pulling at the corners of his mouth, Y/N recalled a conversation from a week ago. Aran had been talking about his love for live concerts, especially the raw energy of the crowd and the unpredictability of those moments. He’d mentioned his favorite concerts, how he'd often play the recordings in his room, the sounds filling the space as if he were there, surrounded by that energy.

Her eyes sparkled with an idea, and she stepped aside, making a mental note. She could create a custom playlist for him, one with live versions of his favorite songs, capturing the essence of that experience. But she didn’t want to stop there. Y/N knew Aran well enough to understand that he appreciated quality, something that would reflect the effort she put into the gift. A high-quality portable speaker would be the perfect match for the playlist. She imagined him listening to the tracks, the sounds of the crowd flooding through the speaker as he relaxed after practice. It would be a gift that mixed both personal and practical, with a touch of thoughtfulness.

While Y/N was lost in her thoughts, the other players continued their practice, moving in and out of drills. She overheard a conversation between Sakusa and Atsumu, both arguing about which music genre was better for post-practice relaxation. Y/N chuckled to herself, but her mind remained focused on Aran’s gift. The idea was starting to take shape, and she couldn’t help but feel a sense of satisfaction.

Across the gym, Kita was also absorbed in his own thoughts, though his gaze was fixed on Y/N. He watched her as she worked, effortlessly moving from player to player, offering gentle encouragement and the occasional correction. Her usual energy was contagious, but today, Kita noticed something else—her bag. It was slung over her shoulder, worn from years of use, its edges fraying just slightly. As Y/N moved through the gym, her movements fluid but with a slight struggle as she tried to reach for something inside her bag, Kita saw the small zipper snag.

It wasn’t just that the bag had seen better days—it was a symbol of how hard she worked to balance everything, always carrying the weight of her responsibilities. Kita’s thoughts immediately went to the idea he had been toying with since day one: getting her a new, high-quality bag. He wanted something that would be functional and reflect her commitment to the team, but also stylish enough to suit her personality. It had to be practical, yet show that he saw the effort she put in.

The following evening, after practice, Kita found himself wandering through a nearby shopping district. The streets were decorated with twinkling lights, adding to the holiday spirit that seemed to be everywhere. He passed by a small boutique that caught his eye. It was quaint, tucked between a couple of cafes, its windows filled with elegant bags. As he stepped inside, the warm air wrapped around him, and the scent of fresh coffee from a nearby café wafted through the door. The store was quiet, peaceful, and had a soft glow from the lights hanging overhead.

Kita moved through the aisles slowly, inspecting the bags with a focused eye. There was a part of him that wanted to find the perfect one immediately, but he knew it was worth taking his time. The bags ranged from minimalist designs to bold, functional ones. He picked one up, tested the weight, and inspected the stitching. He finally settled on a sleek, sturdy leather bag with multiple compartments—large enough to fit all of her essentials, yet compact and stylish. It was just right. The leather was soft, and the color would suit her perfectly—elegant, yet not too flashy. He couldn’t help but smile as he imagined how she might react when she saw it.

On his way out, Kita passed by a small coffee shop, the warmth from inside making him pause. He decided to grab a coffee, sitting by the window, watching the busy streets outside as he reflected on his decision. The holidays always brought out a bit of sentimentality in him, but this time, his thoughts were full of Y/N. He wanted this gift to be meaningful—not just a token, but something that would show how much he admired her.

Back at the gym, Y/N had already started discussing plans for the big exchange the night before Christmas. The players were still buzzing with excitement about the gifts they would give and receive. The gym, usually echoing with the sound of volleyballs and sneakers, was now filled with talk of Christmas cheer and gift ideas. Y/N had started to decorate the space with a few simple holiday touches—greenery by the door, a small tree with lights twinkling in the corner, and a basket of wrapped chocolates by the bench. Even in the hustle and bustle of practice, the holiday spirit was palpable, and everyone was feeling the magic of the season.

As the players continued their drills, the anticipation for the gift exchange built with every passing day. Y/N couldn’t wait to see everyone’s reactions, but there was something special about the idea of giving gifts that reflected how much she appreciated them. The warmth of the gym and the holiday spirit only made her more excited to bring everyone together for the big reveal.

And so, with the days slipping away, the team continued their practice, the sounds of volleyballs bouncing, sneakers skidding, and laughter filling the air. Christmas was coming, and with it, the promise of new memories, laughter, and unforgettable gifts that would bring the Inarizaki team even closer together.

Day 6: Gifts in the Making

After the final bell rang, signaling the end of the school day, Y/N found Suna Rintarō in his usual spot by his locker, unhurriedly gathering his things. Students were buzzing around them, but Suna remained as calm and composed as ever, barely glancing at the crowds. She approached him with a purpose, though aware that she might have to make a convincing case to get him to come along.

“Hey, Suna,” she greeted, offering a small smile as she sidled up to his locker. “You busy after this?”

He looked up, meeting her gaze with a hint of curiosity but his expression otherwise unreadable. “Not really,” he replied, zipping up his bag. “Why?”

She took a quick breath before diving in. “I need some help with Secret Santa shopping… specifically for Aran. You have an eye for good stuff, so I thought you’d be the perfect person to bring along.”

Suna’s brows lifted ever so slightly at her suggestion, and he gave a small nod. “Fine. But don’t expect much commentary,” he said, swinging his bag over his shoulder.

“Perfect! That’s all I need,” she grinned, motioning for him to follow her out.

As they walked through the bustling city streets, they exchanged small bits of conversation—mainly Y/N talking about how she wanted her gift for Aran to be thoughtful and practical. Suna listened quietly, chiming in every now and then with a hum or a short response, more interested in taking in the scene around them than actively engaging in chatter. When they finally arrived at the mall, the holiday decorations were in full force: wreaths, lights, and a massive Christmas tree in the center of the atrium that seemed to reach up to the ceiling.

Y/N marveled at the decorations, nudging Suna with her elbow. “You gotta admit, it’s festive,” she said, smirking as she looked at his typically neutral expression.

He shrugged, giving the slightest of smirks. “It’s a bit much. But I guess it works,” he replied, following her as she led the way toward the tech stores.

They wandered into the first store, where rows of sleek gadgets and electronics lined the shelves. Y/N browsed the portable speakers, occasionally glancing at Suna, who was studying the products with a calm and discerning eye. After a few minutes, he picked up a speaker with a simple yet sturdy design, turning it over in his hands.

“This one’s pretty solid,” he commented, passing it to her. “Good sound quality, decent battery life, and compact enough that he could carry it around easily.”

Y/N held the speaker, feeling its weight and inspecting it. “Do you think he’d actually use it?”

Suna leaned back against one of the displays, his gaze level as he watched her consider the options. “If he’s into music like you say, he’ll appreciate it. And you can personalize it—load up some live recordings of his favorite concerts or something.”

She blinked, a smile spreading across her face. “That’s actually a really good idea. I didn’t think of that.”

“Yeah, well,” Suna shrugged, glancing away as if downplaying his own suggestion. “That’s why you brought me along.”

After comparing a few more options, she settled on the speaker he’d suggested, finally feeling confident in her choice. As they made their way to the checkout counter, Suna waited quietly beside her, occasionally glancing around the store. A small group of teenagers passed by, their arms full of holiday shopping bags, laughing and chatting. Suna looked on with mild interest before returning his focus to Y/N as she paid for the speaker.

As they stepped out of the store, they walked by a kiosk packed with holiday-themed wrapping paper, bows, and tags. Y/N paused, staring at the selection, her expression contemplative.

Suna noticed her hesitating and smirked. “This part’s on you. I’m here for the gift, not to play decorator.”

She laughed, nudging him lightly. “Noted. I’ll take it from here.”

Suna waited as she picked out a tasteful roll of wrapping paper with muted colors, steering away from the overly bright designs that didn’t quite suit her style. After paying, she held up her bag, feeling accomplished.

“Mission accomplished,” she said with a grin.

Suna gave her a short nod of approval as they made their way back through the bustling mall. The holiday energy buzzed around them, but there was a calm ease between the two of them as they headed out into the chilly evening, each silently content with how the day had unfolded.

Day 12: Putting It All Together

On Saturday morning, Kita headed out to town, intent on wrapping up the final details for his Secret Santa gift. He wanted to make sure the bag he chose for Y/N was perfect, and the added charm with her initials was a small but meaningful detail he hoped she’d appreciate. He found himself moving with careful purpose, his usual calm masking his excitement to see this gift idea come to life.

After visiting a boutique to confirm the bag’s quality, he stopped by a nearby shop to search for a keychain. As he browsed, he saw someone familiar in his peripheral vision—Y/N, standing in front of a colorful display. She was looking at a pair of vibrant roller skates with teal and yellow accents, her gaze fixed on them as if they held a world of memories. Smiling to himself, he walked over.

As Kita approached, he noticed Y/N’s attention was completely absorbed by the pair of roller skates on display. A small smile formed on his face as he stepped forward, intending to strike up a casual conversation.

“Didn’t know you were a skater,” he said, keeping his tone light.

She glanced over, clearly surprised but managing a smile. “Yeah… well, I used to be, I guess,” she replied, not offering more right away. Her eyes shifted back to the skates as if the memory behind them was something only for her.

Kita took a slow breath, recognizing her hesitance. Y/N was always open and friendly with the team, but rarely did she talk much about herself. He chose his words carefully. “Were you any good at it?”

Y/N’s smile grew a little wider as she laughed softly. “Maybe not at first. But I spent enough time on those skates that I got pretty good.” She paused, as if deciding whether to continue. “I used to skate down to the park on weekends. It was my thing.”

He nodded, giving her a moment. “Sounds like you had a good routine,” he said, understanding how much routines mattered in his own life.

She seemed to relax a little, glancing over at him. “Yeah, I did. I really loved it. But my old skates broke a while back, and I… just never got around to replacing them. Guess I figured I didn’t have the time.”

Kita took that in thoughtfully. “It’s tough to make time when there’s so much else going on. But it sounds like it mattered to you.” He didn’t push further, but his steady gaze invited her to continue if she wanted to.

She hesitated, then nodded, her expression softening. “Yeah. These days, though, it just seems like… too much to spend on something that’s just for fun, you know? Especially when I could put that money toward something more practical.” She shrugged, clearly uncomfortable discussing it. “I’d feel selfish asking my parents for something like this.”

Kita listened carefully, piecing together her reasons without judging them. Her dedication to the team and her responsibilities was something he respected immensely, but he couldn’t help but think she deserved something just for herself.

“They look like they’d suit you,” he said gently, looking at the skates. “You deserve things that bring you happiness, too.” He gave her a small smile, understanding it was a sensitive topic. “And if you ever want to get back into skating, I bet you’d pick it up again just like that.”

Y/N chuckled, the wistfulness in her expression easing. “Thanks, Kita. Maybe one day,” she replied, a hint of warmth in her voice.

The conversation lingered with him as they parted ways, and an idea started to form in his mind. He’d originally planned to keep things simple, but seeing Y/N’s reaction to those skates gave him a different perspective on what his gift could mean. For now, though, he kept the thought to himself, leaving her with a subtle but encouraging smile before they each went on their way.

Christmas Eve: The Gift Exchange

The morning was filled with bustling energy as Y/N’s family worked together to turn their home into a holiday haven. It was the day before Christmas, and despite the excitement of the neighborhood Christmas party, Y/N was focused on one thing: making sure the house was perfect for the special Secret Santa event with the boys. The living room needed to be transformed into a cozy, welcoming space for everyone to gather, and there was no time to waste.

Y/N’s mom was the first to start rearranging the furniture, moving the coffee table to one side of the room with a sense of practiced ease. "Let’s clear some space for all the gifts," she said, giving Y/N a warm smile. Her dad followed suit, slowly shifting the couch to create a better flow in the room. Y/N eagerly joined them, her excitement spilling over as she adjusted the throw pillows on the couch and added little touches of decoration. The Christmas tree stood proudly in the corner, draped with twinkling lights and vintage ornaments, but it needed a little more magic.

"We should add a few more candles to the mantle," Y/N suggested as she busied herself placing candles along the fireplace. The soft glow of the lights would create the perfect ambiance for the evening.

Her mom glanced over at her with a smile. "I love how much you’ve taken on this year. It feels like a real winter wonderland."

Y/N’s dad, who was busy hanging garlands above the windows, chimed in with a chuckle. "Your mom’s right, honey. This place is starting to look like something out of a Christmas movie." He paused for a moment, looking around the room with satisfaction. "You really went all out this year. The boys will love it."

Y/N couldn’t help but beam at their words, feeling a warmth in her chest. Despite all the holiday chaos, the effort was worth it. "I want tonight to be perfect. I want them to feel at home."

As her parents finished the final touches on the house, Y/N stood back and surveyed the room, feeling accomplished. The room was cozy with soft, plush blankets scattered across the couches, and the flickering lights set a serene, holiday atmosphere. A table had been cleared in the center, ready for all the gifts to be placed on it. There was a small area by the window where they would later enjoy snacks and drinks, but for now, the focus was on getting everything ready for the boys.

Her dad stepped back and gave Y/N a nod of approval. "I think it’s all ready. Let’s get those gifts out."

Y/N's mom smiled, heading to the kitchen to start preparing snacks and drinks for the evening. "Don’t forget to get those cookies out! We need something sweet for them."

"I’ll grab them," Y/N offered, bounding off to the kitchen. She retrieved the freshly baked sugar cookies her mom had made earlier, carrying the tray with a sense of pride. The warm, sweet smell filled the house, adding to the festive air.

As she returned to the living room, the first of the boys began arriving, and with their entrance, the room began to feel even more alive. Aran was the first to step through the door, carrying a bag of chips and a wrapped gift. "It smells amazing in here," he said, grinning as he surveyed the space. "You really did a great job, Y/N."

"Thanks, Aran!" she replied, her voice practically bubbling over with happiness. "I wanted to make sure tonight felt special for everyone."

With Aran came the other boys—Suna, carrying a box of homemade cookies, a small smile playing on his lips; Kita, with his usual calm demeanor, bringing a neatly wrapped gift and a quiet nod of approval; and Atsumu, always the life of the party, carrying a large bag filled with snacks and a grin that could light up the room.

"Did I bring enough snacks?" Atsumu asked loudly, dropping the bag on the table with a dramatic flair. "Because I could always grab more!"

Y/N laughed, her heart swelling at the sight of her friends. "You’re always over-prepared, Atsumu."

Her parents, who were now finished with their preparations, stepped into the living room to greet the boys. Y/N’s dad shook hands with each of them, offering a friendly smile. "It’s nice to see you all here," he said warmly. "Y/N’s been looking forward to this night for weeks."

Y/N’s mom followed with a gentle, welcoming smile. "I’m so glad you could join us. This is such a special time for Y/N, and we’re glad to have you all here."

The boys all murmured their thanks, the warmth in the room only growing stronger. Y/N’s heart fluttered with happiness—everything was coming together just as she had hoped.

"I’m so glad we’re all here," Y/N said as she bounced excitedly from one guest to the next. "This is going to be the best night!"

With everyone settling in, her parents busied themselves by gathering their coats and preparing to leave for the neighborhood Christmas party. "We’re heading over to the neighbors’ party in a bit," Y/N’s mom said, giving her a soft, knowing smile. "You’re welcome to join us, of course."

Y/N shook her head, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "I’m good, Mom. I want to stay here and enjoy tonight with everyone. This is my special event."

Her dad chuckled, ruffling her hair affectionately. "Alright, but don’t forget to take a few pictures for us before we go."

Y/N nodded enthusiastically. "I will! I promise!"

As her parents made their way to the door, Y/N handed them her camera. "Don’t forget to take some shots of you both at the party!" she added with a grin.

After her parents left, the atmosphere in the room shifted from the calm of her family’s presence to the lively chatter of her friends. The energy in the room felt light and happy, everyone eager to start the gift exchange.

When it was finally time to exchange gifts, the living room was buzzing with excitement. Laughter filled the air as each person carefully selected a gift to give.

Christmas lights twinkling softly against the walls as each person gave their present with care and excitement. Y/N felt a sense of joy watching everyone unwrap their gifts—each person’s reaction was more than she had hoped for. When it was Aran’s turn, he immediately began to unwrap his gift. Y/N had been nervously waiting for his reaction, hoping he would like it as much as she had thought he would. As the paper fell away, he held up the portable speaker she had carefully picked out for him. The soft, golden light from the fireplace illuminated the device in his hands, and for a moment, everything seemed to pause.

Aran’s face lit up with an easy grin, his eyes sparkling with delight. “You really know me, huh?” he chuckled, holding up the speaker for everyone to see. “This is perfect, Y/N. Thank you.”

Y/N couldn’t help the huge smile that spread across her face. "I'm so glad you like it!" Her heart soared at his response, a deep sense of happiness filling her chest. It felt incredible to see him genuinely pleased, especially since Aran was always so laid back and hard to surprise.

Finally, it was Y/N’s turn to open her gift, and the room grew quieter in anticipation. She smiled nervously, feeling the weight of Kita’s gift in her hands. Kita, ever composed, had remained calm, not giving away anything about his present. As she slowly began to unwrap it, the atmosphere shifted, the warmth of the room giving her a sense of comfort as she carefully peeled away the paper.

When the wrapping came off, her breath caught in her throat. Inside was a beautiful pair of roller skates—bright, sleek, and exactly the pair she had been eyeing for months. Her heart pounded in her chest, the surprise overwhelming her.

Her voice barely came out as she looked at Kita, her hands shaking slightly as she held up the skates. “Kita… you remembered…?”

Kita’s usual calm smile was present, but there was something in his eyes—something softer—that made Y/N’s chest tighten with emotion. “You’ve mentioned it a few times,” he said simply, his voice steady but kind. “I thought you deserved them.”

Tears pricked at the corners of Y/N’s eyes. The roller skates were a dream she thought she’d have to give up, especially after her old ones broke so suddenly. She hadn’t been able to replace them, too caught up in work and life to find the time or money. But now, here they were, right in front of her, a gift from someone who had truly listened.

“I don’t know what to say,” Y/N whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “Thank you… really.”

She could feel the warmth of the room around her—the glow of the Christmas lights, the laughter of her friends, the love that filled the air. And in that moment, she realized that it wasn’t just about the gifts. It was about the thoughtfulness behind them, the way each of them had made an effort to show how much they cared.

Kita, already back to his usual calm demeanor, stood up and gestured for everyone to gather. Y/N's eyes widened in confusion as the boys—Aran, Suna, and even Atsumu—moved toward her. Though they hadn’t been planning a joint gift, the boys had secretly coordinated. Y/N hadn’t realized, but they had been discussing her for days leading up to this moment, deciding as a group that they wanted to show her just how much they appreciated everything she did for them, and how much they admired her strength, kindness, and dedication.

As Aran reached into a large gift bag, he pulled out a framed photo, and Y/N’s breath caught in her throat. It was a picture of all the boys together, their goofy grins and relaxed poses showing off the bond they had built over time. The photo was perfectly framed, the black frame elegant yet simple, and a small, personalized note attached. Y/N’s hands shook slightly as she read the words:

“Thank you for everything you do. We’re better because of you.”

Her heart swelled, and she blinked rapidly, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to spill once more. She had never expected this. The boys, though each of them a character in their own right, had come together with such thoughtfulness and unity. The sincerity in their gesture left her speechless.

Suna stepped forward next, giving her a small but meaningful smile. "We might not always say it," he began, his usually quiet voice softening the mood, "but we’re all really grateful for you, Y/N. For everything you do. It doesn't go unnoticed."

Atsumu, always the energetic one, added, “Yeah, we know you’ve got a lot on your plate, but you still manage to keep everything together. We’re better off with you around.”

Y/N’s heart felt like it was overflowing. She had never expected such an outpouring of appreciation from them, and yet here they were, showing her just how much she meant to them. Her eyes welled up with emotion as she finally managed to speak, her voice a bit shaky.

“You guys… I don’t even know what to say to this,” she whispered, overwhelmed by their kindness. “This means so much to me. You guys really… you really do care.”

Kita, who had remained relatively quiet, gave her a small nod. "Of course we do. You’re family, Y/N."

The room fell into a comfortable silence, save for the soft crackling of the fire and the gentle hum of the Christmas music in the background.

With a happy sigh, Y/N finally said, “Thank you, all of you. I really… I don’t deserve this, but it’s the best gift I could ever ask for.” The boys, each in their own way, smiled back at her, their eyes full of affection.

[akbrsol]

[drawnbymabel]

Graduated!🫰🎓

[artisticxlly]

I saw this tik tok about team Inarizaki as foxes and wanted to draw something based off it!

I tried basing them off the actual foxes the characters are inspired by ^^' (with the exception of the Miya twins since they're apparently not based off a specific breed)

[pinemoons]

happy belated birthday suna! 🎂

[nnnyxie]

haikyuu boys trying to flirt pt. two - inarizaki second years

pt. one

suna rintaro, miya atsumu

miya osamu, ginjima hitoshi

the sillies !!!

(suna is so me……)

[noorpersona]

I’m being greedy here,

but it would be funny if Inarizaki was trying to figure out if their manager has a secret admirer. With all the snacks, food and encouraging notes being given to them, but it just turned out to be their (platonic) girlfriend

No greed at all! I love it ehehe

Hope you enjoy! and thanks for the ask <333 I love doing these --

It started small. A sports drink left on the bench, a protein bar tucked neatly beside your clipboard, a sticky note with a simple Good job today! scribbled in neat handwriting.

You hadn’t thought much of it at first. Maybe someone had left the drink behind by accident, maybe the protein bar was a spare someone had tossed your way. The note? Probably just an afterthought. No big deal.

But then it kept happening.

Snacks. Energy drinks. Even small bento boxes labeled with your name, left in the exact same spot every single time. The notes became more frequent too—little words scrawled on post-its, ranging from Eat something before practice, idiot. to You better be drinking enough water. and Take a break before you pass out.

By the end of the week, the team had noticed.

And by the end of the next, they had declared a full-blown investigation.

“I’m tellin’ ya, this is definitely the work of a secret admirer.” Ginjima crossed his arms, nodding as if he were uncovering something straight out of a mystery novel.

Osamu, unimpressed, leaned back against the gym wall. “Or, y’know, it’s just someone bein’ nice.”

“No way, ‘Samu! This is classic romance material.” Atsumu leaned in, eyes alight with interest. “Secret notes? Snacks? Somebody’s tryna woo our manager.”

“‘Woo’?” Suna repeated, unimpressed. “Who the hell says ‘woo’?”

“You get what I mean.”

Aran, ever the voice of reason, sighed. “Maybe it’s just a fan. Not everything has to be a romance novel, guys.”

“No way.” Ginjima shook his head. “This is deeper than that. It’s been weeks. This is a long game play.”

Osamu scoffed. “So what? You think it’s some secret, undyin’ love confession?”

Atsumu nodded, smirking. “Or maybe it’s someone right under our noses.”

That’s when they all turned their heads toward Suna.

He blinked. “No.”

“You’re bein’ awfully quiet about all this,” Atsumu pointed out, grin widening. “Kinda suspicious.”

Suna didn’t even blink. “I don’t care enough to do all that.”

“Suspicious,” Osamu agreed, just to mess with him.

Suna sighed. “Go to hell.”

But the team wasn’t done. They spent the rest of the week staking out the gym, watching like hawks every time you left your clipboard unattended. They devised shifts. Shifts. They trailed behind you in the hallways, whispering conspiracies amongst themselves. At one point, they even considered interrogating Kita—only for Osamu to firmly shoot that idea down because “If ya bother him with this nonsense, we’re all dead.”

Their investigation escalated. They started tracking patterns—when the notes appeared, the exact minute snacks were placed. They cross-referenced schedules, trying to narrow down suspects. Ginjima even went so far as to create a messy suspect board in the clubroom, red strings connecting completely unrelated names, post-it notes containing unhinged theories.

“Alright, so if we rule out known variables—” Ginjima began, tapping the board with a marker.

“Did ya seriously make a conspiracy wall?” Osamu asked flatly.

“It’s called evidence, ‘Samu.”

“It’s called insanity,” Suna corrected, lazily eating a rice cracker.

And then, just when tensions were reaching their peak—when Atsumu was this close to breaking into your locker just to “gather more clues”—the answer came crashing down on them in the form of a very cheerful visitor.

“Hey, loser, I got your favorite snacks again!”

You barely had time to turn before a familiar arm was slinging around your shoulder, a plastic bag dangling from their other hand. The entire team froze. You could feel the sheer intensity of their collective stare boring into the back of your head.

Your best friend—your very, very platonic best friend—blinked at the awkward tension in the gym. “Uh. What’s with them?”

You sighed, already knowing where this was going. “They think I have a secret admirer.”

Your friend snorted. “Pfft—you? Please, who would want you?”

“Oh my god, shut up.”

Atsumu, standing dumbfounded beside Osamu, made a strangled noise. “You? It was you this whole time?!”

“Duh.” Your friend rolled their eyes. “What, you guys thought someone was trying to date them?”

Ginjima sputtered. “So—wait—you were just—just doing all this platonically?”

You deadpanned. “Yes. That is what friendship is.”

Osamu sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Y’all are idiots.”

Suna, who had been unfairly accused, leaned back smugly. “Told you so.”

Atsumu looked personally betrayed. “Weeks—weeks—of stakeouts, of investigation, of tracking patterns—for this?!”

Your friend snickered. “God, you guys need a hobby.”

Kita, passing by without even stopping, simply muttered, “I told you all to drop it.”

Aran chuckled, shaking his head. “All that effort, just for nothing.”

Atsumu groaned dramatically, dropping onto one of the benches as if the weight of the world had just crushed him. “This is devastating.”

Osamu patted his shoulder. “Ya brought this on yerself.”

Ginjima, looking up at his massive evidence board, sighed. “Guess I should take this down.”

Suna, still smug, pulled out his phone. “No, keep it. I’m sending this to the group chat.”

And just like that, the case was closed.

[ferigrievous]

what they look for in a partner ; inarizaki ver. ⋆˚࿔

atsumu ; looks for someone confident. atsumu has a little bit of an ego, and probably would not be compatible with someone who is the opposite. needs someone who wont shrink under his teasing and accidental harsh words, and isnt afraid to take up space. someone who can stand beside him rather than behind him.

osamu ; looks for someone steady. he doesnt want drama, doesn’t need someone who turns every small issue into a storm. if he did, he would just go to his brother’s room. someone who enjoys the quiet moments, who doesn’t mind just existing beside him without the need for constant excitement. also could not be with someone who thinks food is an enemy/has a bad relationship with food.

kita ; looks for someone reliable.  he doesn’t ask for much, just someone who keeps their word, who means what they say and follows through. most probably would not be with someone vastly different from him, and is more attracted to people who are more mature and responsible. they can have their bouts of immaturity, but if they’re not acting their age 9 times out of 10, they’re gone. probably also could not be with someone materialistic, someone who is inflexible and rigid.

aran ; looks for someone supportive. after kita, he takes care of everyone else on the team, so he needs someone who remembers to take care of him. someone who sees the effort he puts into everything and reminds him that he doesn’t have to carry it all alone.

suna ; looks for someone easygoing. would not be compatible with someone who is chronically offline, unless they have some charm that cancels that out. cant stand unnecessary stress, but needs someone that is as much of a chismosa as he is. should be able to put up with his habit of sending 200 reels a day and never responding to any of yours.

ginjima ; looks for someone passionate. admires people who care deeply about something, even if its a little ridiculous. someone who puts their whole heart into things, who doesn’t half-ass their dreams or their feelings.

akagi ; looks for someone fun. someone who laughs easily and doesn’t take things too seriously. someone who can match his energy, who doesn’t mind being a little ridiculous just for the sake of it.