#Udai x reader

[dira333]

Current Friend, Future Husband? - Tenma Udai/Little Giant x Reader

whoops, my finger slipped... Words: 5k

Enjoy this reluctant Friends to Lovers/He falls first with the Little Giant from Karasuno.

created as a fanfic gift exchange for @lees-chaotic-brain

tagging: @mariaace @snail-squasher @yamaguchiwestad @respitable

- 6 -

“Tenma’s here,” your mom calls up from the kitchen.

The announcement is unnecessary because Tenma has yet to learn how to walk quietly, stomping up the stairs to your room.

His face is set in a scowl too, dark curls and dark eyes giving him quite an evil aura.

But you’ve known him long enough not to care about that.

“Grab a scarf,” you tell him as soon as he steps through the door, “I’m playing wedding.”

“Not again,” he groans, though does as he is told. The pink scarf he picks has hundreds of little coins sown to it, chiming as he wraps it around his shoulders and moves through the room.

“I’m a Djinn,” he exclaims, “I will curse you.”

“Djinn’s don’t curse people! They fulfill wishes,” you correct him.

“Fine,” he huffs, “What do you wish for?”

“I want Tenma to play the husband.”

“Not again!” He groans, throwing his hands in the air.

“You have to!” You declare, “Djinn’s always have to follow their master's wishes!”

He huffs and whines and begs but it’s no use. He plays the husband to your wife.

“Can we play outside now?” He asks as soon as you kiss his cheek and declare the marriage official. “Mom brought my ball.”

“Fine,” you decide to be nice today. “But don’t kick it too hard. I don’t like that.”

.

- 8 -

“It’s so weird that you’ve got a boy as a best friend,” Asuka exclaims. Your small group of (girl)friends has gathered in your favorite spot, overlooking the garden and the big open space below. Tenma’s playing Ball with a group of boys and he’s easy to pick out, he’s always the smallest in any group.

“You think so?” You ask back, taking one of the strawberries Sango brought for lunch break today. “It’s not like I had a chance. Our mothers are best friends. He’s basically my annoying twin brother.”

“Do you think he’s cute?” Ryo asks, looking up from where she’s painting Tomoko’s nails.

You consider this for a moment, look down to where he’s running around, red-faced and panting. He’s not ugly, that much you can tell, but cute?

“I don’t think so,” you say, because it’s better than to admit that you don’t really know what cute really means for a guy. You think babies are cute, but that’s not the same thing, right?

“I think he’s cute,” Ryo admits easily now that she thinks she knows where you stand. “Can I ask him to be my boyfriend?”

“I mean you can ask,” you offer, feeling a little weird that she asks you in the first place, “but I don’t know what he’ll answer you. I bet he still thinks girls are gross.”

.

- 10 -

“I think you’re getting a little too old to be sharing a bathtub,” your mother announces after Tenma has left.

“We weren’t sharing,” you explain, drying your hair. “We were playing that he was my magical shapeshifting dog but he rolled around in a mountain of dragon poop and I had to give him a bath. He pulled me in when I was almost done washing him.”

Your mother sighs. “Aren’t you getting a little old for those stories too?”

You tense and she notices right away.

“Dear, I didn’t mean… if this is how you want to play, I’m totally fine with that. I was just wondering…”

“How else are we supposed to play?” You ask, unable to keep the agitation out of your voice. “Am I supposed to kiss him and hold hands like the other girls in my class are pretending to do? Or play Volleyball the whole day? Or just do our homework and study, study, study until we fall asleep? Or play video games that you don’t like because they make you dumb? How are we supposed to play?”

Your mother sighs again, lowers herself until she’s sitting crosslegged on the floor next to you.

“Come,” she says, opening her arms until you crawl into her like you used to do. “I’m sorry. I know, as your mother, I should say and do all the right things but that was pretty stupid of me. Can you forgive me?”

You nod and she pulls you in a little closer, kissing your damp hair. “Now tell me, what do you like to do? What’s fun?”

You lean into her, the familiar smell and warmth, and let yourself open up.

“When I come up with a story, Tenma always makes it bigger. Like today, when I said: Do you wanna play my dog, it was his idea that he could shapeshift. And that we’re living in a world that has dragons. And… and I was a maiden that had a tavern and there would be knights who came by to slay the dragons but the dragons are actually our friends… It’s like reading a book but you’re in it, you know? And he doesn’t ask about who I like and what I like and what I think is cute all the time. That’s so annoying.”

“You like hanging out with Tenma?”

“He’s okay,” you offer and she snorts. “If he ever gets on your nerves, you can tell me, okay? I know boys can be annoying too.”

“I can handle Tenma,” you tell her, knowing you’re right. “But can you, like, not allow me to go to Ryo’s sleepover next week? She’s so obsessed with boys and she always pranks someone during sleepover. I don’t want to wake up with my head shaved.”

.

- 12 -

“Do you wanna be my girlfriend?”

To say you’re surprised would be an understatement. 

It’s not that you don’t get chocolates and confessions, because you do, a lot actually even though you decline every time, but never from Tenma.

For a long second neither of you does or says anything and all you see of him is the back of his neck as he bows.

But then he pops up, a weird grin on his face.

“Got you!” He declares, opening the pack of chocolates and biting into it without a moment of hesitation. “Did you think that was real?”

“No,” you say even though that’s a lie, “Why did you do it?” 

He shrugs, offering you the chocolate. You take a bite as well, feeling a little smug that neither of you cares that it will be an “indirect kiss” as the girls call it. 

“Everyone thinks we’re dating,” he admits finally when he pulls the chocolate back again, “just wanted to see what you think about it.”

“It’s annoying,” you declare ad you should have watched his face a little closer because something like a shadow moves over it, but it’s gone before you can catch it. “You’re like my brother.”

“Yeah,” he says, but it sounds a little weak for someone as headstrong as Tenma.

You don’t wanna think about it though, so you poke his shoulder. “Where did you get the chocolate?”

“Someone confessed to me. I said no but I kept the chocolate because they thought I was dating you and still confessed. That’s stupid.”

“Mhm,” you don’t ask for a name. “Wanna stay and play a bit before we walk home?”

“Volleyball?” He asks, ears perking up. 

“Sure.”

.

- 14 -

Neither of you is dating anyone. 

None of your girlfriends believes that you’re not into Tenma and you’ve given up on convincing them of the truth. You don’t really want to date anyone. You like solving puzzles and coming up with crazy ideas that Tenma can bend and fold into even crazier stories. You like going for a run with him in the morning because even though you hate waking up early it sets your mind at ease and you like going for a run with him in the evening because without it, you’ll be unable to sleep.

Sure, there are some good-looking boys in your class. But maybe you’ve spent too much time around Tenma, or boys in general, to find any appeal in them. 

They fart and they burp and they dig their dirty fingers into their noses and they refuse to shower even though they smell awful and sweaty. The number of times you’ve had to drag Tenma into the shower, turn it on, and hold him under the spray because you couldn’t allow him in your room otherwise and he wouldn’t go on his own is too high to admit at this point.

It helps a little that Tenma thinks the same of girls.

Not that the girls from your class are as disgusting as the boys. 

But they giggle too much and they always flutter their lashes at him which he thinks is a little creepy and they don’t listen to him when he talks about anything that isn’t their appearance.

“I like talking to you instead,” he admits and this is probably the highest praise he’s ever sung you, “you know what I’m talking about.”

And you know what he means because you always know what he means. It’s not that hard. Tenma likes stories, the crazier the better, and he likes volleyball. And food, but he’s picky with that, giving you his tomatoes and eating all your salmon even though you’d have wanted to eat that yourself. 

All the other girls in your class are talking about boyfriends and getting married and having a family and all you want to think about is solving riddles with Tenma or telling him a story so he doesn’t make you practice receives with him. 

.

- 16 -

“Did you get your first kiss already?” Hisoka asks and you shake your head. Nothing sounds less appealing than tasting someone else’s spit.

“Don’t you and Tenma kiss?��� She asks and you stare at her as if she’d said that Alien’s are real. 

“Why would we kiss?”

“You’re dating, aren’t you? Everyone says that you’re dating.”

“He’s like my brother,” you tell her. “We grew up together.”

“But you’re the manager of the Volleyball team too.”

“Yeah, because I like Volleyball.”

She huffs. “Okay, who do you like? I think Tsukishima is still single.”

Tsukishima, blond, tall, and universally liked, blushes like a strawberry. You glare at him for eavesdropping.

“I’m not interested in anyone,” you declare loudly. You hope that’s the end of it.

It isn’t.

.

“Hey, can you walk home without me? We’re going to prank the store owner down the street,” Tenma hands you his bag without waiting for an answer.

You walk home alone, grumbling to yourself about how you would have wanted to play along with the prank.

But it doesn’t matter.

After years of being an okay player, Karasuno’s trainer seems to have spotted something in Tenma that he didn’t even expect there himself.

Extra training. More time on the court. Recognition from others.

Soon enough you’re sidelined with Tsukishima and the others.

First-year managers are not allowed on the court during official matches. 

Is there anything worse than realizing that you’ve made a mistake? Putting all your faith in one friend only to realize they can drop you without a moment’s hesitation?

.

“Tenma’s here,” your mother calls out from the kitchen.

You’re not fast enough at sprinting toward your door. He slips into your room before you’ve managed to close it.

“Tsukishima told me you’re leaving the team?” He sounds out of breath. Did he run here?

“I’m just a manager, it’s not like the team will notice,” you scoff, pushing him off your bed. “Besides I’m taking up Advanced English, so I’ll have more time to study.”

“What? Are you going to turn boring now?”

“You’re boring!” You scream, surprised by the anger that’s spilling from your lips. It feels as if he’d stabbed you with that question and all the words are just the blood that’s spraying out of open wounds. “All you do is play volleyball and think you’re the greatest and it sucks!”

“You suck!” He yells back. “You’re just jealous I’m finally cool!”

“You’ll never be cool!” 

Tenma stomps his foot like a little kid before storming out of your room.

You can hear the front door slam shut all the way up to your room and if you crawl into your bed to cry right after that’s nobody’s business but yours.

And your mother’s, as it seems, because she appears at your doorstep just a few minutes later.

“Wanna tell me what that was all about?”

“No.”

“Hm, maybe not right now,” she offers at your tear-soaked voice, “but I expect an explanation until tomorrow evening, okay? Tenma’s family to me too. You know we can solve all fights with good communication.”

You don’t answer and she leaves you alone to wallow in your despair.

.

“Tenma wants to apologize,” Udai-san pushes him toward you. Your mother nudges you forward in much the same way.

“I don’t want you to be cool,” you say instead, the words prickly on your tongue. “I like you better when you’re not cool.”

Tenma’s eyes flutter around the room, arms crossed. Your mothers leave the room and you sink into the floor, annoyed and hurt and so many more things you can’t properly name.

“Do you really think I’m boring?” Your voice is much to vulnerable for your liking.

But it stills his nervous movement and he sinks onto the floor just like you, heavy and exhausted. You’ve never fought like this before. 

“I think you’re trying to be,” he offers quietly, “but I want to you to keep playing Volleyball with me.”

“I’m just a manager.”

“Yeah, but it feels like you’re playing with me. And… and you’ve always been the smart one, okay? Everyone’s always said: Tenma, you should be more like her. She’s so smart. Can’t she tutor you? No one ever told you to play Volleyball like me. No one ever told anyone to try to be like me until now.”

“I’ve always wanted to be as creative as you,” you offer and even though he wrinkles his nose you can tell he’s touched by that.

It feels like you’re standing at a crossroads. Whatever you decide or do or say next will change the trajectory of this friendship. You’re not ready for that. You doubt you’ll ever be. 

As long as there’s the safety of your past, you’ll always try to grasp it.

“Do you wanna play my dog?”

.

- 18 -

You’re not sure if it’s the awful music, the crowd around you, the smell of sweat and food and spilled soda, or just everything all at once, but you don’t think College parties are for you.

You recall a balcony or backdoor to your left so you move that way, push against the wall of bodies with everything that you’ve got, panic already bubbling in your throat.

Someone grabs your hand just as you’re gasping for air and with a well-aimed push you’re through, cool air hugging you like a loved relative at a family dinner.

“You good?” Tenma’s squinting down at you. He’s grown a little during break, though you doubt he’ll ever be as tall as the other guys on his former Volleyball team.

“Yeah, thanks.”

His hand is still around yours, now pulling you down the path into the dark garden.

“Where are we going?”

“Dunno, getting some fresh air into you. Met anyone you like?”

“Yeah, the fridge.”

He snickers. “What about that girl from your business Class?”

“She’s trying to eat the face of some guy I don’t know.”

“Tsukishima?”

“Pretended he didn’t know me.”

“Aww, I’m wounded.”

“I bet you are. What about you? Any hot girls tried to talk to you?”

“About that,” he knocks his elbow into your side, “one of them tried to kiss me.”

“A hot girl tried to kiss you?” He nudges you again at your incredulous tone.

“Don’t act so surprised. I’m famous.”

“Bet you are,” you snicker. “But what happened? Did she realize you’re not a tall girl but a small guy and run away?”

“No,” his voice sounds weird now, but you can barely see his face in the dark, “I turned her down. Didn’t want my first kiss to happen at some party.”

“How do you want your first kiss to happen?”

“Ah,” you know he’s just shaking his head from left to right as he’s thinking, you don’t have to be able to see him for that, “Like this, you know? In the garden in the dark? That’s kinda romantic.”

“Should have brought someone else over here then.”

His hand lets go of yours.

“Right,” he says, voice weirdly tight.

“Shit, did I ruin the mood?” You ask, nudging your elbow into whatever you can reach, “I can get that hot girl for you. Just tell me what she looks like.”

“Do you wanna get KFC instead?” He must have turned his back to you. You don’t know what you said to derail this conversation, but it’s clear he doesn’t want to keep it up. 

“Sure,” you agree, “but you’re paying.”

.

- 20 -

Tenma has started growing his hair out.

You’d be lying if you said it didn’t suit him.

You’d be a filthy, awful, terrible liar if you said you didn’t want to drag your hands through it all the damn time.

“You should cut your hair,” you tell him when you meet up for lunch, “You look like a homeless guy.”

“And you look like a sexy secretary,” he jokes, pulling you in and putting you in a headlock. It feels brotherly and it’s just what you need to get through this lunchdate that’s not a date.

Somewhere in between graduating Highschool and today Tenma’s gotten hot. 

Or maybe you’ve just finally gone through puberty, discovered all the hormone’s healthy teenage girls were supposed to have.

Last week you even sniffed his leather jacket when he was in the bathroom and you wished you could have put in on for a few minutes, but you feared he’d notice and how would you ever live that down?

“Did you get any feedback on that story you submitted?” You ask, trying not to overthink his comment. It’s probably meant as a loving insult, after all you’re not a secretary.

“Yes, actually, they told me they’re printing it.”

“No way,” you shut the menu again, “You’re joking, right?”

He grins. “You think I’m joking?”

“Not really, but I wanna make sure you’re being honest with me before I pay for your lunch.”

“You could let me pay and we call this a date,” he says and even though you catch yourself freezing up you can see on his face that he caught it.

“I was joking,” he tells you and if you’d be able to be honest, if you’d trust yourself not to ruin this, you’d tell him that his joking is the one thing that makes you still freeze up in fear.

After all, you don’t throw away a friendship of twenty years to a joke, right?

“I know,” you tell him pointedly, clearing your throat and opening the menu again. “Which means you’re paying for yourself.”

“Come on,” he whines, but his voice comes easy now, which means you can breathe again.

The moment is gone and somehow, you’re sure, you’ll survive the next one too.

.

“Can’t your girlfriend sleep in your room?” You can’t place the voice for a moment even though it sounds familiar.

“Not my girlfriend.” That’s Tenma. Who are they talking about?

“Well, if you keep having a girl over make sure she has a place to sleep that is not the living room. I need my space in the morning.”

“Sure, sure.” Tenma sounds like he’s not taking this seriously. 

You blink and wipe the drool from your face.

“Morning sleeping beauty,” Tenma’s face is so close now you can smell the toothpastey-freshness of his breath.

“What day is it?” You ask, feel your jaw crack as you yawn.

“Sunday,” he pulls you up with ease, “Let’s put some of my spare clothes on you before we meet up with our parents. Or did you bring something?”

You rub your eyes as you lean on him. He might have stopped playing Volleyball, but he hasn’t lost his muscles. 

The memories are slowly coming back to you. Going through his newest idea, a Manga this time. Reminiscing over old footage from his Karasuno days. Sharing one, two, maybe three beers as you giggle and swat away his hands on the Couch.

You can only hope you didn’t say or do anything embarrassing last night.

But this is Tenma. He’d let you know right away if you had.

.

It gets easier to live with your crush. 

Tenma never mentions any girl he’s seeing or points out who he thinks is cute.

He’s pretty good at keeping in contact even when he’s so lost in his creative mind that he forgets to eat.

And while your work is equally demanding, the hours there are more regular.

It’s not uncommon to find you in his kitchen after work, growing from putting ready-to-eat food onto plates to actually preparing home-cooked meals. They’re not awful and you think that’s the highest praise you can get.

Sometimes, when it’s so late you can forget about catching a train back home and Tenma’s so tired he sounds like he’s speaking a foreign language, you end up sleeping in the same bed.

If you drag your fingertips through his hair then, hear him mumbling softly under his breath as you fall asleep, that’s your secret to keep.

.

- 22 - 

Tenma’s a full-fledged Manga Artist now. 

You got your own promotion just a short month later and as he raises another glass on your good work, the question tumbles out of you before you can stop yourself.

“Do you want to move in together?”

His grip is suddenly too tight around his glass. You can tell because you’ve grown a bit too observant lately, always way too laser-focused on where he is and what he’s doing and how he’s smelling like, freshly-showered or cozily slept-in.

“You can say if it’s a stupid idea,” you ramble on, “I mean, I’m over at your place all the time anyway to make sure you’re eating enough. It would be weird though if one of us brought home a date, but like-”

“Sure,” Tenma clears his throat, “we could move in together.”

He deflects all further questions though, whether it should be closer to his work or closer to yours, how many rooms you’ll need, and if you’ll be able to get a cat, instead filling up your glass again and again.

Eventually, you walk home arm in arm, each of you trying to support the other.

It’s a hopeless case but that doesn’t mean you’ll stop trying.

.

“This was fun,” you say at the train station, debating if you’ll take the train home or find some excuse to stay at his place.

You turn your head, surprised to find him this close. His eyes are wide open, dark and beautiful. He’s always had the prettiest eyes.

You’re still debating their color - more of a dark brown or maybe black - when he leans further in.

You half expect him to headbutt you when instead, his lips touch yours.

The kiss is so soft, you think you’re imagining it, along with the sigh that follows it.

But you’ve always been a realist, digging your fingernails into the skin of your arm to prove yourself you’re not dreaming. It hurts.

“Tenma?” You ask, breathless and floating, “Did you mean to do that?”

His face turns pale, eyes wide like those times you’ve pushed him into a cold shower to sober him up.

“SHIT!” He pulls away so quickly that you stumble, lose your balance and fall flat onto your ass.

“Shit, shit, shit!” Tenma’s rubbing his face with his hands, up and down, up and down, and you’re left sitting there, backbone hurting, the world spinning in the wrong direction.

“Okay, shit, this…” He’s folding himself into a tiny version of himself, just across from you on the cold sidewalk, “I didn’t meant to do this, okay? I know you think of me as your brother, so we can just pretend this never happened, okay? I’m drunk. You’re drunk. We’re going to have forgotten about this tomorrow-”

“Tenma?” You interrupt him, your voice weirdly cloud-like. “Are you in love with me?”

He deflates like a balloon, there’s even a little whistling sound coming out of his mouth when he further shrinks into himself.

“Maybe?” He squeaks out. “It doesn’t have to mean anything, though-”

“I love you too.”

There. You’ve said it. You can’t take it back. Maybe you’ve misunderstood a lot of things tonight, you’ll for sure be able to blame the alcohol for it, but you don’t kiss people you don’t like, right? Especially not if you waited twenty-two years for that. 

Wait, did Tenma even wait that long? Is this even his first kiss like it’s yours?

“Why didn’t you say something?”

You blink, shaken out of your musings by the petulance in his voice.

“You didn’t ask.”

.

- 24 -

You’re not sure what wakes you, but his side of the bed is empty and cold.

You push yourself up with a groan, hiss when your feet touch the freezing ground. 

You don’t have to look long to find him, hair disheveled, eyes foggy.

“Hey,” you wrap your arms around his shoulders and rest your chin on top of his head, “I miss you.”

“Sorry,” he yawns, “I’ll be in bed in a minute.”

“You said that four hours ago,” you remind him, leaning further into him, “can you still see what you’re drawing?”

“If I lose this idea-” he starts before a loud, jaw-cracking yawn cuts through his sentence. 

You unwrap yourself to dig your thumbs into his shoulders, press a well-aimed kiss underneath his left ear.

“Come to bed,” you're not surprised when he follows you without another argument.

Last week one of your coworkers mentioned off-handedly that your boyfriend looks like a delinquent, all long hair and dark shadows, the hint of a stubble and a shirt he forgot to iron.

You weren’t meant to hear it, you’re sure, but you don’t care anyway.

He curls around you now, long limbs and warm hands, head resting heavy on your chest.

You drag your fingers through his hair, up and down and up and down, tell him about all the plans you have until you fall asleep along-side him.

-

“Look at you,” Saeko pulls you into a hug, “You’re practically glowing.”

You snort. “Don’t tell that to my mom. She’s started asking about grandchildren.”

“Yours too?” Akiteru jokes, turning from you to Tenma. “Are your parents united on the grandchildren front or are they more like ours?”

“No, no,” Tenma shakes his head, “My mom is just as insistent that we get started. Our mom’s are best friends for a reason.”

“And they never tried to set you up?” Saeko waves at someone across the streat before dragging you onto the seat next to her, “I smell a story.”

“I’m not sure my mom really cared about it as long as we stayed friends,” you think back. “But there was that time when she asked me to stop taking baths with you.”

Tenma’s face turns pink.

“I remember that time well.” He laughs along with the others, but your hand finds his under the table, squeezes tight.

You like to think that he fell first but you fell harder, but he disagrees.

If anything, he likes to say, I love you most.

“I say,” Saeko interrupts your thoughts, slinging an arm around you, “we play it like your parents. We just have to have babies around the same time and the rest will be history.”

“Don’t get ideas,” Akiteru says but you know him, he’s just as helpless against Saeko’s charm as you are.

“Not the worst idea she’s had,” Tenma whispers into your ear.

.

- 26 -

“Morning Udai-San,” Akaashi greets you.

“I told you to call me by my first name,” you tell him, laughing when he blushes a soft pink. “How’s it going, anyway?”

“Good. We’re actually on schedule, but I don’t want to jinx it.”

“Hmm, I get it.” You resist the urge to tousle his hair. “Is Tenma in his office?”

“Yes, I was just going to get coffee. You want some as well?”

“No, but thanks for asking. What are you getting for Tenma?”

“Two shots of espresso and extra sugar.”

“Make it one shot and I’ll make sure you get a promotion,” you wink and he winks back, slipping out of the office.

.

“Baby?” You ask, slipping through the door.

Tenma’s leaning heavily onto his desk, one hand playing with his hair as he thinks.

“Hmm?” He sits up, opens his arms to welcome you. “Hey, what brings you here?”

“I left Naoki with Saeko and Mi, they were playing so nicely.”

He smiles as you plant yourself on his lap, sink into him like you’re not much bigger than your toddler and not the grown woman you are.

“You good?” Tenma asks, rubbing a hand over your back. “You seem in your head today.”

“Yeah, I am, I just…” You sigh and turn your head to kiss his cheek. “I’m glad you stayed my friend.”

“Where’s that coming from?”

“I was thinking about how I don’t have that much patience. I don’t know if I’d kept crushing on you for as long as you kept crushing on me. What if you’d have given up? We wouldn’t have gotten together.”

He hooks his head over yours, wraps his arms a little more snuggly around you.

“Listen, I didn’t stay your friend because I was hoping you’d one day see me as more. I stayed your friend because I’d rather have you as my friend than nothing at all. After all you’re the best friend I ever had.”

“Even though I made you play my husband, my dog and my dragon?”

“Especially because of that.”

.

“Did you have fun playing with Mi?” Tenma asks your thirteen-month-old. 

The bathroom door is open and you can hear them splash around in the bathtub.

“Mi,” Naoki repeats with excitement.

“Yep, Mi. Now, can you say Dada too?”

“Mama.”

Tenma laughs, easy and carefree and you leave the dishes in the sink in favor of joining him.

After all, the dishes won’t run away, but those little moments with your family might.

[haikyu-mp4]

Little big dreams

word count; 1645 – f!reader

You’re not sure when you started noticing Tenma Udai, but you made it his problem from then on. It wasn’t because of volleyball, you barely went to any of those games.

To the volleyball team, he was the little giant, their reliable ace. To you, he was just Tenma – a good-looking kid who rewatched his games in class and tried to hide it from the teacher.

The teacher had no idea what trouble she was causing when she paired you with Tenma for classroom duty. It introduced you to his prickly nature, which you learned you enjoyed challenging.

“Hey, Lil Biggie!” you greeted him every morning, making him lift the broom as if to hit you while you laughed loudly and ran away.

“It’s Little Giant!”

After that week had passed, your head kept turning his way, and you asked some friends if the volleyball team had anything particularly draining on their schedule lately. The reason? Tenma looked like he had been through hell and back, the bags under his eyes growing darker each day.

And it concerned you. Annoyingly enough.

One evening, your club ended early and you made your way to the gym, sneaking around the corner to catch a glimpse of their practice game. To your surprise, Tenma walked out before you even got to the door, angrily marching over to the lockers and smacking his forehead against them. It made you freeze, stuck watching him as he breathed heavily and the sweat ran down his neck.

“Tenma,” you called, walking over slowly and resting a hand softly on his shoulder. It was one of the few times you said his name without any funny addition to make it a nickname, and it was just enough to make him tilt his head to where his gaze met yours.

Your lips formed a line as you eyed him, not sure what to say. You had no idea what could have made him so stressed, unaware of the pressure of being an ace.

He regained his calm and nodded as if you had a silent conversation by just staring at each other. Grabbing your hand, he pulled it off his shoulder and squeezed it gratefully before returning to practice.

You didn’t see much of him outside the classroom anymore, and your friends started teasing you for seeming to have a soft spot. A crush? Pfft, stupid.

Then one morning, a piece of paper was folded up on your desk and you frowned, looking around before picking it up. Everyone else was already rushing to their seats as the teacher walked inside, and you had to hide it behind your notebook to open in secret.

It was a drawing of you, within a square resembling a manga panel, and you tilted your head in curiosity. You had to admit it was a pretty drawing, and the two little hearts drawn over your head made your ears feel warm.

Who was it from?

You looked at Tenma wide-eyed as his eyes were locked on his shoes with a frown. “You want me to tutor you?”

“What great hearing you have,” he mumbled.

“Oy, don’t get an attitude with me now. You haven’t talked to me in a while, I’m surprised.”

“I can’t go to training camp if I don’t pass the next exams.” You hummed in understanding.

“Putting too much time into the club, are we Lil’ Big?”

“Teacher said you’re the only one with an open spot so late in the year, idiot.”

“She’s right.” You got up and hiked your bag up on your shoulder. “Got time now?”

“An hour until practice.” He followed you as you exited the classroom, intending to find a spot by the library.

“Excellent.”

Tenma was by no means a difficult student. You sat down with him and looked at some previous exams to see which topics he struggled with the most, and it seemed like he might have been too tired or distracted for a couple of lessons, probably also forgoing homework some days.

So you set a plan to do a quick version of each lesson he had slept through, and then have him do the tasks for that topic with your guidance until he could do them on his own. You two would sit together pretty much every day until his practice started. Some days he would even bring you a drink from the vending machine, and you were reminded why you liked being around him.

You stretched your arms upwards, glancing over at his paper to see his pencil had moved from the question to some blank space in the corner. Silently, you leaned closer, looking over his shoulder as he drew what looked like zombies on a volleyball court. “I didn’t know you were so good at drawing.”

He jumped, elbow accidentally bumping into your rib, making him abruptly scoot away while you clutched the impact point. “Shit, why would you scare me like that?”

“You muppet, I gave you a compliment,” you groaned, pulling the paper towards you and flipping to the previous page, where he had also fit in a couple of drawings. “Are the topics getting easier for you?”

“Yeah,” he confirmed. “You’re a good teacher or whatever.”

You held up a finger heart that made him cringe. “You’re such a sweetheart.” And the blush on his cheeks was visible from a mile away.

You kept spending those same hours together, but instead of studying, you started spending more time just hanging out. A fun game of him drawing whatever crazy prompts you came up with started, and it made you laugh every time.

As he walked to the bathroom one time, you pursed your lips and picked up his book, flipping to the back pages where you had noticed he drew while you were in class sometimes. Not that you stare at him in class or anything.

You found the hidden drawings, only to realise you were staring at yourself. He had drawn you repeatedly on these pages, from reading with your friends to laughing at his drawings. Your cheeks felt especially warm as you noticed the doodle of you in a jersey with his number on it, holding two thumbs up in encouragement.

Does Tenma… like you?

A door opened in the distance and you smacked the book closed, only to realise it was someone else. Phew, need some time to cool down.

You ran over to Tenma after the game, the rush of the moment making you pull him into a tight hug as you cheered. “I have no idea how this game works but I think you did so well!”

His arms held around you too, swaying you a bit as you didn’t let go right away. “I got blocked a lot, but the team pulled through in the end.” Some guys from the team watched the interaction, which he noticed over your shoulder. Tenma hesitated before kissing your temple and pulling away from the hug.

You looked at each other, smiling and somehow having another one of those silent conversations before the other players pulled him along to celebrate.

“I don’t want to play volleyball professionally.”

“Thought you loved volleyball,” you answered, but you weren’t surprised by his resolution at all.

“It’s fun. It’s fine…”

“What would you like to do instead?” Tenma hummed under his breath in thought.

“I like drawing. Writing stories. Making people feel something. Making you laugh.”

“Ever considered writing a manga?” you asked, looking over to where he was looking at internships related to drawing.

“That’s a distant dream, probably. Would you read it?” he asked back, turning to you.

“Only if you make the women super cool.”

You sighed dramatically as you walked into your apartment, hoping Tenma could hear it from wherever he was. What a hard day at work it had been, but you knew you couldn’t rest yet. “Udai?”

“In here!” he called, nudging the bathroom door open with his foot and smiling at you. “Can you do my hair?”

You shrugged your blazer off and threw it over a chair in the living room before walking over to him and taking the brush. Running it through his long hair, you noticed how high his shoulders were. “Nervous?”

“Not at all.” You laughed, picking up a hair tie and looking in the mirror to adjust the front of his hair before tying it up.

His eyes met yours with a soft look and lips pressed together in a line. “Akaashi will be there too,” you noted, moving your hands from his hair to his shoulders to massage them.

“Right, and he brought Bokuto as his plus one.” He suddenly went wide-eyed and turned around to you. “Speaking of plus ones, why haven’t you started getting ready?” he practically squealed, carefully pushing you towards the door and the rest of the way to the bedroom, while you laughed your lungs out at his antics.

“It’ll be fine! I just need to freshen up and change. All your new nerd fans will only be watching you anyways,” you said, pecking his lips before you walked to the closet to change.

You proudly held his arm at the event, helping him relax and connect with the readers as he introduced the world to his first manga.

Halfway through the event, he walked up on stage, holding a copy of the book in one hand as he adjusted a strand of hair from his face to behind his ear with the other. “First of all, I want to thank the woman who stuck with me through my high school emo phase, my busy intern phase and my troubled writer phase. To my gorgeous wife, y/n, who never for a second let me down and always makes me feel like I can breathe, thank you from the bottom of my heart.”

masterlist

[liillyliilly]

His Diary

akaashi keiji x reader words; 10082 synopsis; For Akaashi Keiji, love meant letting someone know him better than he knew himself. It also meant being okay with letting her read his diary.

She decided that this was her new favorite book. It had all the right amounts of everything in it, drama, romance, depression, self-loathing. The journal she found was likely never written to be read. The journal he lost, the journal that Akaashi Keiji misplaced on a train going home from his editing job, he never expected to become a crux in his journey to love.

In all honesty, she didn’t even know it was a journal. It just seemed to be an episodic novel with a unique font, something along the vein of The Perks of Being A Wallflower. She only ever knew the leather-bound pages as a novel with no name. The author used a first-person perspective when writing and told the story of a young volleyball player who wanted desperately to find a passion, so he surrounded himself with others who had passion. What he seemed to enjoy more than playing the sport was writing though.

The author of the untitled book loved to read because the way he wrote made everything else she had read pale in comparison to the inky brilliance. He had captured teenager-dom with such sleight of hand that she believed his writing was made of magic and fairy dust. The story made her cry, made her groan, and made her feel second-hand embarrassment to an extreme she thought wasn’t possible.

When she read the first chapter, she realized she ought to pace her reading, because there were only so many entries. And she had no way of contacting or looking up the author, there was no information of who the author was on the back of the book. There was a Fukurodani Sticker, a school she remembers from her own time at a high school nearby, they were known for their volleyball skills and prowess, so she assumed maybe the author had some lived experience when it came to volleyball. Maybe that was a hobby aside from being a writer of such compelling stories.

She carried it everywhere from the day she picked it up on the floor of the train, it was always in her backpack, purse, and suitcase. She never left it alone, it had become a part of her. She felt like somehow this author reached into her heart and left fingerprints of his making into permanent fixtures of her anatomical structure. DATE: XX-XX-2013 TITLE: Alethiology; The Study of Truth

Today I realized that maybe I am all that I will be. My capacity has limits in comparison to others. A friend of a friend told me that their volleyball captain made a speech once, not to the whole team, just talking with buddies. His speech, or at least the parts I remember from it, was devastating. He said something like guys like Atsumu and all those geniuses, do things on a scale of 1-20, whereas normal guys like me do things on a scale of 1-10. Or maybe they have a denser more compact 1-10. And if 1-20 doesn’t work out, they try things from A to Z.

I’ve never thought of things like that. There’s always been a straightforward path for me, whereas, in comparison to Bokuto, he seems to have a much longer and more complex route ahead of him. Am I all that I will be? Is there a way for the normal guy to switch from 1-10 and try 1-20?

We have another game soon, maybe I can control more than I expect. Is flight into this world of geniuses possible? I can only control myself and my thoughts, but maybe there are external factors that contribute to my role on this team. My role in life as well.

Bokuto is asking for me, I need to go. Hope I can write again soon, but with all the games we’ll be playing I’m doubtful I can write with actual thoughts and not just tallies and plays from the games.

- A.K.

“I mean, who thinks of things like that Miwa?” She sits in the styling chair, getting a refresher on her hair. Miwa snips away lightly, inspecting each strand with duty and consideration for the entire look.

“Your author crush does.” Miwa brushes away some hair from Y/N’s shoulders, tidying up the apron wrapped around her.

She just rolls her eyes at Miwa’s comment. Flipping to the page in the book, tracing a finger over the deep black gel pen markings. Numbers and dashes and names of high schools against Fukurodani tell the story of the adventure at Tokyo’s national volleyball tournament from way back in 2013. She had barely started her second year of middle school in 2013, ripely being 14 years old.

Miwa and her sip some freshly made smoothies of Miwa’s creation, sitting at a table in the window of the entrance to the salon. Miwa bounces her foot that’s crossed over her leg and she pours over the entry once again. It was becoming addicting to choose one entry to re-read until she ingrained the stylistic choices into a deep long-term memory.

At that same moment, Bokuto Koutarou and his best friend Akaashi Keiji walk past Miwa’s Salon, attempting to plan a group hangout to celebrate Bokuto joining the MSBY Black Jackals team.

“I’ll need to make sure Konoha comes, and that he brings that cute friend of his for you,” Bokuto wiggles his eyebrows repeatedly, and Akaashi shoves him lightly on the shoulder.

“Konoha is dating that cute girl he brings around.” Akaashi clarifies. Bokuto looks stunned, but then he remembers them making out on his couch during movie night that one time.

Akaashi looks around the street for a moment, peeking into the windows and observing the various occupants. When he sees his journal, the one that’s been missing for a little over a year, he just has to get it back.

When Akaashi pulls Bokuto into the hair salon, and barely below a scream says, “You stole my journal!” pointing at the girl who was indeed holding his journal from high school, Bokuto feels like his head was put through a blender. There were three very distinct things occurring at that moment. A pretty girl was shoving a book into her bag looking very defensive, Akaashi was trying to take the aforementioned girl’s bag from her, and a girl who he assumed was the pretty girl’s friend had a pair of scissors pointing at Bokuto by the throat.

Akaashi was still trying to pull the bag away, the pretty girl was looking extremely scared, and the scissors girl had opened and closed them one too many times for Bokuto’s comfort.

“Listen, I think we should all just take a moment to pause.” Bokuto held his hands up, shuffling to outturn his pockets in a show of lack of violent intentions. The black-haired girl puts the scissors back into her half apron that’s around her waist and then folds her arms.

Bokuto then pries Akaashi away from the pretty girl who was now clutching her bag against her chest and sniffling a little. Akaashi did feel bad that he made such a bad first impression, but he swore she had his journal. His embarrassing high school journal, the same journal that had cataloged many things he wished he never had recorded down on paper.

Bokuto pushes Akaashi’s head down, forcing him into a deep bow. Bokuto follows suit and also bows.

“I’m sorry for, uh, trying to steal your bag. But I think you may have a book, that isn’t a book at all, but rather my journal.” Akaashi is now sitting at the table in the window, Bokuto, the black-haired girl, and the pretty girl also sitting with him.

Outside the evening had quickly set in, with the orange and pink colors racing to get to the skyline. The blue began to fade into a deep dark navy color. And the lights on the streets began to flicker on. The lights on the outside of the salon began to twinkle from the setting they had been placed on, fairy lights luring those with a need for a haircut into the salon.

Bokuto had his head on his hand, staring intensely at the girl who had taken Akaashi’s journal, sighing slightly at the way her lips pouted and shined from her lip gloss. The girl with the scissors had brought out two more glasses of thick smoothie.

She pulled out the journal from her Doughnut Macaroon-style crossbody bag and slid it over to Akaashi. Akaashi flipped through the pages, immediately recognizing it as his. His face goes red and he readjusts his glasses, and she realizes that this must be his journal. He even goes straight to the back cover and smiles at the sticker she had grown to love to trace with her pinkie when reading.

“I’m not done with it yet, so, I really do hate to say this, but you can’t have it back until I finish it.” She takes the book back and tucks it into her bag again. Akaashi looks dumbfounded, eyebrows raised and lips pursed into a line.

“You’re just going to keep private property? Even though you know it’s mine?” What a dauntless woman she was, to show what Akaashi considered to be audacity with the whole journal situation.

Bokuto chimes in at this point, “Akaashi, I think we should just let the pretty girl keep your little diary.” Bokuto then starts nodding his head up and down to try and get agreement from Akaashi. Akaashi scoffs.

“Okay, so it’s settled, my cutie of a best friend will keep the journal until she finishes it, we’ll get your numbers and she can contact y’all when she finishes the journal, and I get to cut both of y’all’s hair because honestly, it’s atrocious.” Leave it to Miwa to consolidate a plan in a matter of moments.

Miwa touched the spiky salt and pepper hair that Bokuto had, and Miwa’s expression turned sour when she felt the amount of gel on top of his head, then Miwa pulled out a photo of Yuki Ishikawa in a two-block cut and explained what color of black dye Miwa will use for Bokuto. For Akaashi, Miwa just did a trim and tidied up his sides to bring them slightly tighter into his face.

While annoyed, Akaashi does give her his number, along with his name, and Bokuto does the same with much more enthusiasm. After the haircuts are finished, Akaashi tries to pull Bokuto away from the salon, but Bokuto keeps doing the ‘call me later’ signal with his hand and blowing a kiss to her wistfully. She just waves to the both of them while Miwa giggles behind her dye-stained glove. DATE: XX-XX-13 TITLE: Meraki; Putting A Piece of Yourself Into Your Passion

I am the protagonist of the world. We lost but I am still alive, we lost but I loved the game. I came to the realization that it doesn’t matter if you are the best character, the most complex, or the most ‘genius’ of them all. It doesn’t matter because I am the protagonist. I can be the hero of my own story without ever having won first place in a big-name tournament.

Bokuto is graduating, and I’ll still be here, which is disappointing. He’s my best friend I think. Even if he’s the most annoying ass I’ve ever met, he’s still my best friend and I would never trade him for any other person in the entire world. Together we are the protagonists of the world.

Second place is just as accoladed as first place. If I wasn’t who I am, then maybe I would’ve gotten mad. The first-place winner is a rich school, they’ve been a powerhouse for decades at this point, and this win is just another notch on the belt. If I wasn’t who I am, especially after this tournament, maybe I would’ve gotten frustrated at myself for not doing enough. For not being a setter like Kageyama. Or a setter like Oikawa. That doesn’t matter though, I am a setter. I’ve worked hard to get where I am. But a human mind will always wonder why. And sometimes it's just because you’re unlucky.

Kenma told me about his loss to Karasuno, his sweaty hands made the ball slip in the final point. He laughed about it, he said that that was the best game of volleyball he’s ever played. When Kenma told Kuroo thanks for teaching him volleyball, I cried, but not as much as Kuroo did. They remind me of why I went to Fukurodani. I saw Bokuto’s passion for the sport. His passion encouraged mine, and look where we got to. We because the victors at the end of the war.

Mom made katsu chicken for dinner, I did some homework, and I had to put away my volleyball uniform for next year. I practiced in my backyard, alternating between overhead and underhand passes, seeing how long I could go without dropping the ball. Dad called me into the house for ice cream after thirty minutes elapsed.

I called Bokuto tonight before I went to bed. Told him that he’s my best friend and that I love volleyball. Bokuto agreed.

- A.K.

She was crying, and so she held the book out in front of her, resting it on her blanket. She finally had some faces to match with the words she was reading, and it all felt much too real. Bokuto did seem like the type of person to adopt and bring a person like Akaashi into his fold. But the way that Akaashi genuinely admired and appreciated his best friend was unparalleled and she felt like he would understand the exact way she felt about her best friend, Miwa.

Miwa and her met when she was fresh out of college. She hadn’t an idea of what to do in her life, while Miwa seemed to have her passion set out in front of her with her hair and makeup salon. When she got a haircut from Miwa and started ranting about her life, Miwa just told her to slow everything down. Take a gap year from life and just be a human. So, she picked up shifts at Miwa’s salon and moved in with her.

The best friends slowly became business partners as well, and an expansion to the salon was added, a small specialty bookshop that she ran, while Miwa continued to do hairstyling. Their customers were dedicated and loved to support their business. Branding remained solely under Miwa’s name, but she became everything else to the brand as well, the little addition that made the salon extra special.

When she started to cough a little from the way her heart was beating erratically from crying about Akaashi’s diary, she had to get out of bed and get a glass of water. Akaashi’s number was resting on her kitchen table. Miwa was watching some rom-com in the living room of their shared apartment. She brushed pasted the kitchen and sat next to Miwa.

“A good chapter?” Miwa threw a piece of popcorn into her mouth.

“He’s devastating. Who writes like they feel every emotion entirely?” She started crying again and Miwa laughed a little before rubbing her best friend’s back.

“You could always call him and tell him he’s a good writer if you need to talk about it. Sure it’s unconventional, but maybe he has more insights that you can cry to.” She grabbed a pillow and started hitting Miwa with it.

She did take Akaashi’s number into her room on her way back to bed though. Leaving the series of digits on her bedside table, she re-read the passage and cried again. She thinks she knows him better than most, but they aren’t even friends.

Since realizing he’s a person, and that Akaashi lived this story in the book. The story of his life recorded in his journal, she starts to wonder about what happened to him after he stopped writing in the diary. But she hasn’t finished the story yet, so she’ll have to see what happens next. Again, trying to pace herself, she puts the book away until tomorrow when she can read a little more.

Akaashi sits in his office, he’s still there and it’s much later than the clock would like to admit. The clock wondered if Akaashi would ever go home. But there he was, reviewing the different styles of manga serializations Udai Tenma wanted to try out for his next series. His haircut makes him feel a little colder because now the air can hit right behind his ear instead of being covered with his hair. He puts on a beanie to fight the chill.

When it gets too late at night, his mind tends to wander slightly. Just barely drifting out of his control, like the way a lily pad will drift to the center of a pond when the stem at the base of the connection is severed. He can’t dive into the pond to bring his thoughts back into his hands.

He thinks about her. The girl with his journal. The journal was a cheap 2,500 yen book, but he liked the paper, it was a cold press thicker GSM than most other paper forms. Gel inks went on smoothly to the paper, letting him get more words across by the second than if he was writing with a ballpoint. He remembers that from when he used to write in the journal in high school.

Throwing himself into the back of his seat, he rubs his face, his glasses almost falling off from how he runs his hands up from his chin to his forehead. Setting the glasses on his desk, he spins his chair a little. The clock screams at him, he takes the message from his dedicated clock and grabs his messenger bag.

On the train, he thinks about her again. Instead of getting irritated at how Bokuto essentially gave his journal away to a stranger again, he wonders what her thoughts are. Was his writing any good to warrant such a committed reader? Did she like his journal only because it was funny to read what his dramatic high school self wrote about?

He cringes thinking about all the potential things he wrote down. There’s no direct recollection of what he wrote down exactly, but he knows vaguely what was on his mind when he was writing. His ego, his insecurities, his favorite things. Lots about volleyball, Bokuto, and books. Once he wrote about his thoughts on sex, which is embarrassing for him that a grown woman is reading his teenage idealizations of intimacy.

It could be considered something unique to read. Akaashi settled into the belief that she was merely reading his journal because it was something different than typical books that were being published. Although, why she was reading his journal instead of a Haruki Murakami book was beyond him. Nothing beats his favorite literary giant.

Setting his bag on the coat hanger stand, and shrugging out of his long pea coat. He heats some stovetop ramen while listening to Bokuto talk over the phone, he was ranting about the same girl that Akaashi had had on his mind.

“Oh and those eyes of hers. Did you see them?” Of course, Akaashi saw them, they were big, bright, and astute. Akaashi hums in response, and Bokuto continues barreling through his late-night thoughts.

“I think we should invite her to my party. You know, the one to celebrate my big accomplishment.” In a different apartment, Bokuto spins a volleyball on his finger, but he keeps dropping it so he ends up just repeatedly tossing it into the air so he can satiate the desire to feel his fingers on the ball.

“Yeah, how about no.”

Bokuto asks why not, almost in a whining tone.

“Did you forget she has my journal still?” Akaashi put his bowl in the sink, putting on rubber gloves as he started to wash out the dish and then put it on the drying rack. He decided to finish all his dishes right now anyway since he still had the gloves on.

“Your diary can’t be that juicy, you didn’t do anything too dramatic in high school. Plus I know you wanna see her again too. Don’t pretend like you don’t have a piqued interest. Also, did I use piqued right?”

“You used it right, yes.”

He eventually agreed to let Bokuto invite her to the small get-together. Akaashi didn’t know why Bokuto kept referring to it as a party.

A week later, Akaashi realized that maybe Bokuto kept calling it a party because it had shifted from a friends-only gathering to a huge party at the park. Some other Fukurodani alumni helped to set up decorations in the central gazebo and make banners to hang all over the pavilion. Akaashi was mixing the punch at a table, while Konoha asked what he had been up to lately.

Kuroo and Kenma brought huge gifts for Bokuto, a PlayStation from Kenma, and a packet of potential sponsorship deals from Kuroo.

When she finally made her way to the pavilion with a small brown package, Akaashi couldn't care less about the party. She was wearing a tight-fitting black shirt with a tiered white and gold skirt, and her shoes were a pair of sneakers, but the whole outfit made Akaashi concede to Bokuto’s claim of her being “drool-worthy”. He had to remember that this was the same woman who had his diary. The whole conflict between physical attraction and mental frustration made for an entirely convoluted reaction to her presence.

She bows politely to Bokuto when he goes over to her, offering the gift with both hands, only then did Akaashi wonder how old she must have been. Bokuto had been talking to her more than him, and Bokuto had mentioned that she was a second-year middle schooler when Bokuto was in his third year. Akaashi did some mental math and realized that he, himself, must have been around three to four years older than her.

Akaashi forced himself to ignore the idea of a cute younger girlfriend that started to pester him in the back of his mind. He wanted his journal back, and that’s all this relationship was to him, a mutual exchange of her reading and then him eventually getting back his property. But with the way she had done her hair, Akaashi had a hard time focusing solely on wanting his diary returned.

She was glad that Bokuto appreciated the gift, she hadn’t known him longer than a week or so, and she had gone with a safe gift based on what she knew about him and why this party was even being thrown. She got him a wearable jump monitor that her dad had bought a month ago but never used, she was grateful for having a father who never threw things away. She also included some stickers that she had bought from a small sticker shop online, and some that she had made using Miwa’s craft supplies.

When the excitement of her being at the park died down, she made her way to a table, with a small plate of desserts. She observed how everyone interacted with each other, almost as if they had been friends since the dawn of time, and she believed that that very well might have been the case.

Akaashi stalked her from afar. He appreciated that she was similar to him in a way that mattered to him, she was a watcher. She would assess what was going on, who would talk to who, and how they would nonverbally communicate as well. He got so engrossed in watching her that he neglected to observe the others as well.

Specifically, Konoha, Washio, and Komi had grabbed a water cooler and had the full intention of dumping the water on Akaashi. It was payback for declining their invitations to various other parties from the last year. So there he was, not only soaked through with water but revealed from his vantage point unmistakably indicating to her that he must have been watching her. She laughed a little at the antics but then brought over a small cloth she had in her crossbody bag.

His white shirt was completely transparent, and his brown slacks had turned from a regular light brown into a dark musty brown. The only way to resolve the issue in her mind was to start dabbing at his chest with her handkerchief.

“I see that your friends have a peculiar method of exacting humor.” Her handkerchief eventually was too soaked through that she was just touching his chest with a cloth that had performed osmosis and was now at equilibrium with the water on his shirt.

“Yep.”

“Look, there’s a hoodie in my car, I know we aren’t too close, but it’s probably better to wear my oversized hoodie than to have your whole torso on display for the rest of the night.” She shoves her thumb in the direction of her car.

After making their way to her car, she digs through the trunk and pulls out a grey hoodie with the words ‘Miwa’s Salon’ embroidered on the back. He tugs at the back of his shirt to take it off and she widens her eyes before turning around. The hoodie is comfortable, with a soft fleece on the inside, and it smelt like lychee, vanilla, and surprisingly chocolate marshmallows. It smells like her and he wonders if he could have the scent bottled and then sprayed all over his house.

Suddenly he’s tugging at the collar of the hoodie and swallowing thickly, looking around at anything but her figure in front of him.

“We should probably get heading back to everyone now that you’ve changed.” She goes to start walking to the gazebo, but Akaashi’s words stop her.

“How well do you know me?” She tilted her head and said something about not following along with what he was saying, so he continued, “Well, you’re reading a part of me, you know with my journal, my internal thoughts and hopes and dreams and all that. So, how well do you know me?”

She timidly bites down on her bottom lip, formulating a response. But Akaashi surmises that she must not really care much for the conversation, so he, unfortunately, starts to run his mouth and the words just spiral out.

“You know, it doesn’t matter, to you, it’s just a story about a teenage boy who played volleyball. It’s silly to assume you’d try and actually-”

She cuts in, “I know you’re a considerate person. And it's not just about the volleyball stuff, it's about you, finding yourself to some degree. I know you are polite. I know you’re allergic to beating around the bush, you’re direct and blunt. I know that you can overthink too much.”

Akaashi repeatedly adjusted his glasses, and she stepped just a little bit closer to him, folding her hands behind her back and leaning in slightly so she didn’t have to talk as loudly.

“You also have a bad habit of thinking you can control more than you can, one of the interesting things in your journal is how you jump back and forth between knowing what you can control and then inflating from stress and thinking you can micromanage the entire world. You said you can control the court, but in reality, that’s your worldview. You conclude you can control the entire world sometimes.”

He regrets starting the conversation because this revelation of how much she knew about him exposes him. Akaashi didn’t know how to continue with the gap in knowledge between the two of them.

He only knew she was younger than him, she was incredibly perceptive, and she smelled so freaking good he just wanted to shove her into the backseat of her car and kiss her. Akaashi’s thoughts could not have been his own at this point, he was going crazy. He must have gotten sick from the cold water being dumped on him he speculates.

When they get back to the gazebo, Akaashi thanks Bokuto for the party and heads home. She stays at the party, talking to a select few people and wondering what exactly she said that scared Akaashi off so quickly.

Sitting in the tub, Akaashi rests his head against the shower wall and lets the hot water filter his congestion that didn’t exist. His hand twitched over to his phone, which was on the toilet seat playing some piano music that he hoped would alleviate all his bad habits. He wonders if she will text him soon. If she would text him ever. He felt like he was younger, it was ridiculous that one person would have such an effect on him to this degree.

After the party, she sits with Miwa, disclosing everything that happened at the party.

“And then he just ran off?” She nods at Miwa repeating what she just said. “Girlie, you gave him an in-depth review of his personality and you’re shocked that he ran away? Sometimes you can be too judicious for your own good.”

“Should I text him an apology?”

“Are you sorry for anything?” Miwa rolled her eyes, hating when she got like this. Miwa never allowed her to apologize for things that didn’t need to be apologized for.

“No.” She rubs her arm and chews the inside of her cheek.

“I think you think he’s hot, I mean, you understand this man on a deeper level that he now grasps, and you said he had the chest and torso of some kind of slutty librarian/gym rat agglomeration.” Miwa takes a bobby pin out of her hair and runs a hand through her bob cut, “If it was me, I would send him a picture of the journal and ask for nudes, or else the book gets it.”

She hits Miwa with a pillow, and Miwa realizes she really should throw the pillows away or else getting hit with them would be a very painful recurrence.

Miwa goes to sleep, but she stays up just a little later. Eyeing Akaashi’s number that lay painfully glaring at her. She decides to read more of his diary instead of texting him. DATE: XX-XX-13 TITLE: Weltschmerz; Sadness When The World Isn’t As It Should Be

Summer sucks. Bokuto has a training thing for some team he wants to be a part of in the future. All my friends that were third years are essentially gone, actually out and living life, and I’m stuck here. At least there’s only one more year left of high school. And then I can go and work for a literary magazine.

I miss people. Despite their failings, I do need people in my life.

You can only play so much volleyball in a day by yourself before your motivation is gone by the third week of playing alone.

It’s times like these that make me think about the future. I don’t spend much time with girls per se, but they are pretty and nice. Our manager is a girl, but she has a boyfriend. She’s chill.

Sometimes, when I feel like something is wrong, I turn to the idea of love. I’ll admit that I love a few things in life, but that’s only because I think love is something truly special that you can’t just fling around. I ‘like’ things more often than I ‘love’ them. Volleyball, my best friend, my family, books, and writing.

Will I know when I’ve found the love of my life? My parents said they knew they loved each other from the first moment they met. Will I feel like that too? Will I know it’s love? How can a feeling be recognized as a specific feeling? How do I know what anger feels like, besides that heat and pressure and red hot sun? How do I know what sadness feels like, besides water, coldness, and finishing a run? Would love have those distinct colors and associations? Or would love just become the person I love?

I don’t believe in soulmates. Definitely not. I think people are infinitely compatible, and it all depends on our ability to communicate and agree to grow with a person for the rest of our lives. I believe we make our own soulmates, through sharing experiences and agreeing to be ourselves no matter what. I told my mom this and she just smiled at me like I still had a lot of life left to live.

But don’t I have enough experience to know what I want? Or at least to formulate my own opinions and beliefs? I may be 17 but I am not an idiot.

Or did my mom’s look of a wistful future just mean that when I fall in love I’ll know it and I’ll look back to these words and think I’m completely ridiculous?

Dad made spaghetti for dinner. It was gross so we ended up having to order udon from the place I like instead.

We watched a movie Mom wanted to show me, the title was something like Wildly Wealthy Westerners or something. It was just about rich people from America and Canada, plus a subplot of romance between a basic guy and this rich heiress girl who just couldn’t be together because of rich people's reasons. It was silly but the music was good. The ending kiss scene was hot, he shoved her into the backseat of his jeep and I swear I heard Mom sigh.

- A.K.

She didn’t expect him to text her on Monday of the following week, asking if they could meet for tea at a place near his work during his lunch break. She surprised herself by agreeing to it, and then by cheekily calling it a date.

Akaashi shoved his phone into Udai’s face, “What does this mean?”

Udai pushed his bangs back and inspected the text messages on Akaashi’s phone. “I think it means she agreed to go on the date you asked her on?”

“But I didn’t ask her on a date?”

“Oh, but you definitely did. Oh and tea? What dork takes a girl for tea on a first date?” Udai pushed Akaashi’s phone away and clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. Then Udai’s face breaks into a blinding grin, “Is this your little diary thief? And the one who gave you the sweater at Bo’s party? Oh, it is isn’t it, do you have a picture of her?”

Akaashi briefly flashed a photo Bokuto had taken with her in Udai’s direction.

“DAMN! I need me my own diary thief,” Udai raised his eyebrows and started laughing a little, and then he ruffled his hair and used his fingers to zoom into her face, slowly, he started moving down the picture to her body. Akaashi pulled his phone back before Udai got too far down.

The clock on Akaashi’s desk wanted him to leave for an early lunch and by an early lunch, an hour early. So there he sat at the small cafe on the corner by his office building, rubbing his sweaty hands against the legs of his pants, waiting for her. She was five minutes early and was surprised to see him already at a table, so she decided to have a little fun.

Since his back was turned, she went up to him and tapped his shoulder, when he turned around she let out a small “Boo!” and put her hands up into an imitation of claws, trying her best to seem scary. He just thought she was adorable. He motioned for her to sit down.

Resting her crossbody bag against the back of the chair, she took a seat. Akaashi was able to wave down a waiter, who gave them a single menu to look over.

“What kind of tea do you like?” She asked, using her pointer finger to scan through the options the cafe had available.

“I like black tea, and sometimes chamomile tea.” He asked her for her favorite type, and she told him. He tried to commit her favorite to memory as quickly as possible.

Eventually, they had their tea, and the silence started to set in. Between sips, Akaashi would try to figure out how to say what he wanted to say. But he thought it was all too bold. So he told her a little about his life, his work, and his friends and she did the same, returning statements in a unique fashion about her life. Her word choice was special, calculated even. She was like him in another way that mattered, a calculated, intentional way of speaking.

She could always make him yearn to be a little more considerate of his words. Until she managed to pry them out of him.

“So why am I here?” She stirs a little more sugar into her tea, then pauses from drinking her tea to take a sip of her water.

“I want one of your journals.”

She laughs before realizing he’s entirely serious, “How do you even know that I have any journals to lend to you? For all you know, I could be living a journal-less life.” She waves her small stirring spoon around, before putting it into her mouth.

“I can’t explain it, but I know you have journals. Only someone with a journal of their own would be so obsessed with another’s.” Akaashi takes the spoon from her mouth and uses it to stir some sugar into his tea. Her mouth gapes for a moment while he smirks, looking right into her intelligent eyes.

The next day they have tea again, and she gives him one of her journals from high school.

“Don’t read it all in one go.” She pauses, “I don’t write nearly as well as you do, so don’t scrutinize my words the way you do all your mangakas’ words.”

Akaashi nods.

He read it all in one night. He calls her in the middle of said night.

“Who the hell is this Ito kid? When did you and he start talking? Just outta nowhere he pops up at the end of your last entry. Where’s the careful recollection of all your interactions with him?” Akaashi is exasperated, running his hand through his hair. He disagreed with what she said about her writing.

She was compelling and interesting, and she most definitely had his heart. Her high school experience had been so different from his, and she seemed to be much more optimistic about life than he was. Despite her calling him a realist, he believed that in comparison to her, he was a total pessimist.

She explained to him about Ito, and that he was a short-lived crush she had had at the end of her second year in high school. Akaashi was glad when she said she didn’t even talk to him anymore. Based on the way she had written about him, Akaashi thought that Ito would be the love of her life, and Akaashi was slowly realizing maybe his heart was in the process of making her the love of his life.

“When do I get the next journal?” Akaashi wanted to keep talking to her despite the lateness of the hour.

“You don’t. I told you to pace yourself, I only have one of yours so you’re only getting one of mine.” She was lying on her stomach on her bed, slightly kicking her feet while talking to Akaashi.

Akaashi groans but tells her he’ll return the journal next week when he can have another long lunch break. She says she’ll be there.

Akaashi recalls when he remembered his diary was lost.

It had been a long day at work, and he wanted nothing more than to go home. His mom hadn’t remembered his apartment address, so she sent one of his old journals to his work office. He put it into his satchel and made his way home.

On the train, there had been a slight jostling. And Akaashi hadn’t noticed the journal falling out of his bag and under his seat.

When he exited the train, she had gotten onto it. She sat down in the same seat he had. Right when Akaashi started walking to the stairs to exit the station, she reached down under the seat to stow away her bag, only to be met with a rough material. And for a moment, if they had just turned around, their eyes would’ve met right as the train pulled away.

When he finally got home, he unpacked his bag, looking to put away his journal safely into a box with other memorabilia from high school. When he dumped his bag upside down, shaking everything out, he just couldn’t find his journal. When going home from work the next day, he had asked all the employees if they had seen a leatherbound notebook. None turned up.

If there ever was a moment that could’ve changed the future, that was what it would’ve been. If the train hadn’t jostled. If Akaashi Keiji hadn’t been tired from work and forgot to check for the journal on his way out of the station. If she hadn’t sat right where he had been sitting, and most definitely, if she didn’t love a good book, then it all would’ve turned out differently.

But that’s not the story that’s being told. The story being told is of Akaashi Keiji realizing that to love someone, you have to accept that they may know you better than you know yourself.

It had been six months, and she was close to finishing the journal. Somedays she didn’t read at all, others she read three entries and wanted to binge the rest of the diary.

They went for tea every single week. Sometimes twice. Then other times, he would take her around Tokyo to go exploring. They went to every museum, every library, every cafe that specialized in tea. He figured that they ought to be on an even playing field when it came to how well they knew each other, so instead of getting more journals from her, they traded lists of their top one hundred favorite books.

She had put three Haruki Murakami books on her list and Akaashi wanted to hold her face in his hands and kiss her.

But they were just friends. Friends who knew each other better than Akaashi was comfortable with. She knew what he would order before he said it, and he knew what she was going to comment before she stated it. When she asked him about his experience with failure, he knew that she had gotten in too deep.

She knew more about him than he expected her to, she knew all about the silly things that rattled around in his brain, and although it had been a journal from high school, he knew that people stayed pretty similar throughout life. So when she looked at him, she didn’t just see professional editor Akaashi Keiji, she saw a teenager who wondered what place he had in the world as well. She saw him as acne-ridden and languid with life. He wanted to control her perspective of him and he couldn’t do that now, because she had the key to his past and the map of his future.

So he tried to put some space between them. Just in case. Maybe it was a horrible tendency to overthink, no, he knew it was his horrible overthinking tendency. There were so many ways their relationship could go. He could completely crush her, to be completely crushed himself in turn.

Walking the edge of a knife with her. Balancing on the blade of friendship, if he fell onto one side, with no cuts, then they could have a happy relationship. If he cut himself on that blade, then the worst-case scenario would be that she realizes she doesn’t like him back and then there’s just someone who knows him too well out in the world.

When he hadn’t texted her in four weeks and her messages were left on read, she decided to finish the journal and be done with it. Their time as friends was short-lived she thought. She thought there may have been something more for the pair of them. And suddenly all the depressing love songs became about him. Which made her resentful, because who ruins ‘Iris’ by The Goo Goo Dolls like that for someone? DATE: XX-XX-14 TITLE: Quatervois; A Crossroads

I graduated today. I went through that book of fancy words Mom gave me and stumbled across this one. Quatervois, a crossroads. Does this count as a crossroads?

The magazine I want to work for said I could have an internship while I attend college. An internship in the manga editing department. Was I not good enough for the literature department? Is it because of my age? I think my essay and grades were good enough to at least qualify me for a chance to interview in that department. But they only let me interview for the editing department.

Does that make me a career failure? I like the magazine, but I’m not sold on the department they want me to go into.

Washio called me to congratulate me, he said that I was finally crossing over into the real world. I’m pretty sure I’ve been living in the real world for as long as I’ve been alive, but Washio made it seem like things would be so different for me. I digress.

When nothing seems straightforward, and you come to a fork in the road and you have two options that you can’t see down, how do you choose which road to go down? The one lined with flowers, or the one with a dirt path that could eventually have something more alluring at the end.

- A.K.

On the penultimate page of the journal was a glued-down picture of Akaashi wearing his graduation suit, and holding his graduation scroll, his parents stood on either side of him grinning proudly at their only child. Maybe she should’ve checked the book from the last page and then started reading the front. But she didn’t want spoilers, that’s why she never checked the second to last page.

She texted Akaashi and said she finished the journal and was ready to return it. When he didn’t respond, but had read the message, she texted Bokuto asking for some clarification. She asked if Akaashi had said anything about her that would’ve indicated why he was mad. Bokuto just said that Akaashi wasn’t mad at all. So now she was confused. If he wasn’t upset, then why was he ignoring her?

Instead of going to their tea place, she goes to his office during lunch. She scans the buttons, looking for his department.

“Hey diary thief, whatcha doing here?” A shorter guy with shaggy black hair and a hoodie with a denim jacket over it comes around to her and presses the elevator button.

“Are you going to the Manga Editing Department?” She checked before entering the elevator with the shaggy-haired guy, who had introduced himself as Udai Tenma, but she could just call him Tenma. He confirms and then doubly checks her identity as the same person Akaashi had been talking about and spending all his lunch breaks with.

“It’s funny that you know about the journal, I came here to return it finally. Probably much to Akaashi’s delight.” She adjusts her bag across her shoulders, giving a short sigh.

“No, Akaashi loves that you have his journal. At first, he was a little annoyed, but now it’s kinda like you have a little piece of him all the time. I told him just to get you a necklace with his name on it, but noooooo Udai I can’t do that because I’d essentially be confessing if I did something like that.” Udai did a brilliant imitation of Akaashi, even going as far as to push his shoulders back to make him seem taller and with a broader build.

Udai turned slowly to face her, eyes wide and jaw dropped, “Please pretend I don’t exist, I never said anything about Akaashi’s undying love,” He froze, “Also ignore what I just said.”

Udai got out of the elevator on the floor below the editing department. She could hear him start to criticize himself and say he owes Akaashi so many more favors and solids now.

She walked through the office, lightly admiring all the manga panels, all the stories that had come out of this building astounded her, it had been a while since she last read a manga, so she considered picking one up on her way out. Maybe she’d read the one written by Udai.

Then she sees him. Akaashi, with a pencil in one hand and an eraser in the other. His head is moving slightly, due to the music playing through his headphones she assumes. He fidgets in his chair, wiggling the seat around. Despite being angry at him, he was still adorable when he was engrossed in his work.

“You’re being childish.” She handed Akaashi the journal. Akaashi had to take off his headphones when he saw that his journal was being thrust into his face, he dropped his pencil and turned around only to be met with her. Even though she seemed to be upset with him, she still looked beautiful.

Akaashi looked confused, so she clarified, “Ghosting? Really? You could have just said you didn’t want to be friends.” Her tone is sharp and penetrating.

It wasn’t the being friends part, it was the part where he wanted her to be entirely his. An overwhelming desire to attach her to him in all senses. He swallows and takes the journal back. He wants to ask what her thoughts were, and what she came to understand about him. Yet, he knew she was upset with him. He would be upset with her too if she did what he had done.

He had completely blown his chance, hadn’t he? The one woman who had read the teenage journal and still wanted to be friends. Maybe her knowing more about him wouldn’t be too bad at all, maybe that’s exactly what he needed.

“I don’t want to be friends.” She starts to sniffle, she quickly runs the sleeve of her shirt onto her eyes. Akaashi rushed the next part out, “I can’t be just friends with you I’m afraid. I think I want more.”

She blinks rapidly before regaining composure and putting her hand on his shoulder. “I think you need to sort out your feelings. Because if you really wanted more, you wouldn’t have treated me like I was disposable. You wouldn’t have ignored me. So, figure it out, and let me know what the result is. You know where to find me.”

She rubs her thumb on his cheek in a parting gesture. He remembers when she did that for the first time, around three months ago. They were at a library he had found in a far corner of Tokyo, and he was talking about a book that Udai hadn’t understood at all, which made him irate that Udai could skim over such an important story. They were in their little section, with dim lights and a stack of books they wanted to talk about.

As he was waving his hands around, trying to show her the pages and lines he was referencing in the book, when she reached over and brushed her thumb against his cheek, the rest of her fingers resting along his jaw and lower cheek. Her palm barely contacts his chin.

“You had a little mark there. But I think it’s just a cute little freckle, it won’t wipe off.” She brushes against his skin again, and when the mark doesn’t disappear, she leans back into her chair, waiting for Akaashi to begin again. When he starts talking again about the book, he keeps stumbling and stuttering over his words.

She gave a small wave before leaving his office space. Akaashi's co-workers just turned their heads to watch her exit, heads sticking out of cubicles, and then in a blink, they all turned to face Akaashi with disappointed faces, shaking their heads and clicking their tongues. Then, they went back to work and Akaashi was sitting at his desk with his journal brazenly staring at him.

He had one chance to make it right. So he set aside Udai’s manga draft, knowing he could go through it in less than an hour, and he picked up his pencil, writing one more entry in his journal.

He can only wait a week before giving it to her when he shows up to her apartment unannounced. Miwa opens the door and rolls her eyes, but letting him in.

“I gotta run and get some new specialty scissors. I’m not afraid to use them in an unintended use if I get back and she’s crying.” Miwa motions her fingers from her eyes to his. Akaashi gives her a thumbs up.

When she comes out of her room, she inspects him on the couch, he’s holding his journal.

“Read the last page for me. It’s an extended edition.” He jokes somewhat. She sits next to him and reads his ‘extended edition’. DATE: XX-XX-XX TITLE: Micawber; An Eternal Optimist

I was stupid. Believe me, I know I was a whole idiot and a half.

Here’s to giving up realism and embracing optimism.

You knew who I was before I knew you. I was scared that you would know too much. That’s hilarious, right? I wanted you to know me, and yet there I was completely afraid to let you get too close, but you were already close. It’s not just what words were contained here, although I re-read my journal and there are definitely some things I should’ve self-censored.

You were what made the entire difference. Your ability to perceive me as a whole rather than a sum of my parts was the distinction that was made.

With you, I truly am a protagonist. Not a side character anymore, but the main character who shares the limelight with his love interest. Although, I have a distinct feeling that you may be more of a main character than me. But, I know you’d say you digress.

In your journal, you mentioned once how you believed that a good story can compel you to be changed. How characters drive a real tangible change in a person. Did I do that for you? At least a little bit? I know I was changed when I read your story, I realized that maybe I liked you a little more than just liking you.

Please don’t think I am mean. I was cruel, rude, and inconsiderate to you. Ghosting for more than a month because I was worried is likely going down in my personal history as the worst thing I’ve ever done to you. But I’m dedicated to never doing anything bad to you ever again. I’ll never hurt you, and I’ll never lie.

I’m optimistic that you like me a little. Maybe even a little more than like.

So, tell me why I still feel worried. Is this feeling even worried? Or is this what love feels like? The desperation to not hurt you in any way. The pang of knowing that I am myself with you. And, yes, the physical magnetism that makes me feel just a little more like a teenager when I am with you.

I think this feeling is love. I just think it’s so overwhelming that I ended up making it into a negative emotion instead of what it is.

I’m sorry. Forgive me or I really won’t know what to do with all these feelings that flit around in my heart for you.

I love you.

- Yours, Akaashi Keiji

She knew he was watching her. She had her nose in his journal, reading what he had written for her.

“Can you get me a tissue?” Akaashi handed her one. He was ready to say his goodbyes.

When she closes the journal, he looks at her with curious eyes. She smiles.

“Best book ever.”

He grabs her by the back of her head and kisses her. She held his face in her hands, tilting her head slightly and he hummed into her mouth. His nose was cold on her face, but the warmth of his mouth contrasted with the frostiness. His other hand grips her hip, trying to pull her closer to him. Despite them being already so close, he wanted her to envelop him.

Then he was pressing her down onto her couch, both hands on her hips. When she wrapped a leg around his waist he thought his heart was going to jump out of his chest. Her head was on the arm of the couch, and he had moved from her mouth to the side of her face to her neck, to right above her bra, leaving a trail of his making. He was glad she was wearing a low-cut top because it made it easier for him to pull the shirt down so he could reach more of her skin.

In contrast to him, she felt soft and pliable. She also felt wholly his in this moment.

Her hands were in his hair, pulling the strands in a mellow methodology, not wanting to hurt him almost. She wanted his hair just a little longer, but the short hair tickled her neck, so she was happy with the length it was currently.

The top of her chest was creamy and supple. He let his tongue brush out once, twice, before going back up to kiss her again. He licked at her bottom lip, and she opened her mouth just enough for him to run his tongue into it for a moment, before biting at her bottom lip in thanks.

“You taste like sugar.” He was hot in the face and had some hair sticking to his forehead. She pushed his bangs back tenderly, his chest was still rapidly moving up and down trying to catch his breath. He went in for another kiss, still short of breath, so she had to intervene.

“Slow down loverboy, you need to breathe, or else you can’t keep going.” She laughs a little and he can feel the way her body carries the laugh from her chest to her stomach. She moves in close to his ear, “And that would be a zero-sum game for us both.”

He nods, and she draws his head down to rest on her chest.

“Is this better or worse than that fantasy you had about making out with a girl in the backseat of a car?” She recalls one of his entries from his journal.

He rubs his face against her, inhaling deeply. “This is way better. But we’re still gonna kiss in the back of my jeep, and soon at that.”

She hums a little in response.

The next year, Akaashi and her moved in together, Miwa was glad because now she could finally walk around her apartment without clothes on (despite her doing that when they were roommates anyway). Bokuto was glad to see that Akaashi finally had someone to read his confusing books and that he didn’t have to read another one ever again. Udai would occasionally make a joke about if it didn’t work out with Akaashi she had a place in his awaiting arms. Akaashi threatened to work for another manga magazine and Udai would be stuck using only Grammarly. That usually shut Udai up pretty quickly.

They both kept detailed journals. And when they finished them, they would let the other read them. Akaashi let her read all his past journals as well, and she let him read her diaries.

Maybe love isn’t what you expected at first, maybe it's not even a feeling you want to feel at that moment, or for that person. But love works out for the best in the end. Whether that’s with a best friend, a lover, a child, or even a book.

For Akaashi Keiji, love meant letting someone know him better than he knew himself. It also meant being okay with letting her read his diary.

[hellobunny044]

Panels. | Series

panel. in manga art, panels refers to the frame that wraps around one moment in time.

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an original Haikyū AU pairing Udai Tenma (the og little giant)

warning!! : containing some manga content.

word count : 3540

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Panel - 1

“Udai-san, this part and this one need to be reworked.”

“Which one?”

The guy with shoulder-length curly hair shifted, almost sending his chair to fly closer to the serious, glasses-guy. His face serious and his tone polite and organized, while beside him, the curly guy in his hoodie is casually listening to everything he says like an obedient puppy.

“The monologue is too long. It seems unnecessary and a waste of time. That’s it from me.”

“Akaashi-san, don’t you at least have something nicer to say to me?”

“That was the nicest I could be.”

“Geh.”

The curly black haired guy was, Udai Tenma, next to him was Akaashi Keiji, the editor.

Akaashi sighs, “There is also one thing I couldn’t agree with on the next page.”

“Which one?”

“This one.”

Following the editor’s finger pointing at a panel, Udai seriously listened to the way Akaashi specified the whole scene as ‘overly exaggerated’.

“It’s either you come up with another idea to picture the entire event, or you find another way not to make this panel look like this.”

In other words, a just-cut-it-out-of-the-page-and-good-luck-coming-up-with-something-more-worth-publishing.

“Do you think so?”

A confirmation from Akaashi had Udai nod in understanding. He takes his phone out and notes down everything the editor said while casually listening and answering what he needs to answer.

After Akaashi wrapped the discussion up, Udai casually decides, “Alright. I’ll hand it in in two days.”

“No can do.”

“Eehhh?” Staring at the editor’s serious face, Udai insistsing, “Why not?”

The editor sighed before he starts, “You have a fansign next month for this edition. Everything has to be published by the end of this month. I can only accept tomorrow at the latest, at seven in the morning.”

Udai started to whine, dropping his head on the table after Akaashi made a decision on the deadline. But to what end, though? The deadline had been decided and the dearest charming editor, Akaashi Keiji, is simply someone too savage to give a damn about anything when it comes to the deadline.

In the end, Udai did have to work hard to finish the latest edition of the manga tomorrow morning at the required hour.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Udai-san.”

Udai, with a helpless languid look, while hugging the manuscript sheet that Akaashi had corrected, turns around and stares at his editor pityingly. Still having a little determination to negotiate with the charming editor until there is a more humane leniency from him. He put on his most pathetic face in front of the editor, basically trying his best.

“If you understand, please go home and start working.”

Snorting, Udai jerks himself out of the room like some cranky bear, nearly flying, a little uprising against the unfair working hours. Or perhaps, he just hadn’t yet realized that everything is the result of his amazing skill to procrastinate and pile up all his work at one time, forgetting that he is only human and not a manga printing machine that can be pushed to go the extra mile.

But really, drawing is fun.

Since a long time ago, drawing had been an escape from fear, boredom, anxiety, and some random feelings that oftenly creeped up on him.

Whenever those unfamiliar, unpleasantly all too familiar feelings creeped into his mental frame, he would always tear up a piece of paper and start doodling. About anything. Whatever his eyes caught, or whatever his head imagined, or about some places wherever his brain took him to.

In the subtle sound when his pencil met the paper, there was the peace that flushed through, and it almost felt like he was in the heart of a serene forest. Then the chaos inside him would slowly die down.

There is peace in drawing.

Then here he was, back to the room where almost over twenty volumes of his manga were born. In a room where his pen met several strokes of paper in definite or indefinite lines, where his pen met the screen of his computer at busy hours before all those stories were brought to life as some book, namely manga, working for another extra special hour.

Udai Tenma was not a familiar name before the Zombie Knight Zom'bish manga became as famous as it is now. He was just a normal citizen, an ordinary guy living within the framework of a normal story somewhere in Tokyo.

Although he no longer yearns for those days, for those who still remember, they might recognize him better by a nickname other than his real name. Call it The Little Giant.

With that name, youths familiar with the volleyball of his day would immediately raise an eyebrow, amused, welcoming with a sky-rocketing expectation in the face of that particular figure who in his days was revered for his outstanding ability despite a fairly obvious weakness. The very figure to conquer the orange court of the famously annual national’s spring high volleyball tournament with some player known as the crows.

But those days are over.

Just like the beginning of a fiction novel, the past was left behind and the reader moves on to the next chapters, looking forward to what might lie ahead.

Udai Tenma is one of those readers who diligently turns the pages of the life story that fate had written for him.

His days as the little giant had come to an end when he decided to turn to the next chapter. Now, he is in the chapter where he is just the ordinary Udai Tenma, the manga artist Udai Tenma, living up to the result of his hard work creating over twenty volumes of manga, and is currently and will always be struggling with deadlines from his editor.

———————————————————

Udai-san, the deadline is tomorrow by seven am in the dot. Please don’t be late.

———————————————————

Udai grimaced as he read Akaashi’s message from the notification bar of his phone.

It’s not that he will pretend to be on a temporary memory-lost something funnier.

He is working hard.

Despite almost swallowing some of his curly strands as his mouth is busy munching some chips, his hands are busy working on what he had to fix on the entire panel.

“That damn Akaashi really is a dictator. He’s such a sadist. He really is one.”

His hands take a slight pause, scooping up a handful of chips that are almost gone on the other side of the table and feeding himself. He is busy. Very busy. Munching and working on those panels at the same time.

********************************************************

Udai could barely finish the latest volume of his Zombie Knight Zom'bish.

He grimaced at the fact that the editor is a sadistic perfectionist who alwa time, valuing time too much.

Of all the things that made him grimace more was how Akashi was always she looked like a pathetic misfit every time he handed in a new script.

At first glance, while waiting for Akashi to finish scanning the revised panels with his eagle eyes that always demanded the best of the best that he, as the artist, could come up with, Udai's feet shuffled anxiously under the table as his brain roamed, thinking about whether Akashi Keiji had ever once looked as pathetic as himself right now.

When Akashi Keiji is working as an editor, the room will be so quiet that Udai swears he could hear a needle dropping from the next room. Udai was even convinced that the charming editor had stppped breathing to look for mistakes that aren't worth publishing, to make sure that they wouldn't slip away from his eyes. But honestly, if anything, Udai couldn’t ask for someone better than Akaashi Keiji of all people.

One of the reasons would be that, "There are chips in the second drawer."

Udai had a bad habit of biting his finger as he waited patiently for the dearest editor to do his job scanning over the revised book. And Akashi, surprise surprise, apparently had gotten used to that bad habit of the manga artist, so, amusingly, he prepared the chips in his drawer. Knowing well that the artist had a high level of addiction to msg.

There will always be only a chip in the drawer and that's for Udai.

The curly-haired guy swears that Akashi is probably a hero who only ate healthy food on a daily basis, probably had been sworn over whatever good and bad throughout the heavens and the earth that he shouldn't eat chips.

Witnessing the way Akaashi Keiji being such a perfectionist that he is, making Udai almost lost the last trace of worthiness in himself.

If Akaashi Keiji is just a normal human being, then it should be that Udai Tenma is just a trash.

"Akaashi-san, you're indeed the most understanding person I've ever met in my life."

"Please eat something more proper at home, Udai-san."

Munching, Udai glanced at Akashi and replied, "I eat properly. It's just that, it's not complete if I don't get chips in a day. It's like my brain's freezing."

He held the chips solemnly in his lap while gazing out the window of Akashi's room.

Tokyo was slowly getting to start its bustling, busy morning as he would soon take a rest after this all was over.

"If you eat chips and work hard for the next volume, I don't have anything to say."

"I eat chips while working."

"You've always been on more chewing terms than drawing."

"For the record, I came just in time before the deadline, Akaashi-san. Let's not forget about that."

Udai ignored that Akashi sighed just after he spoke. It was the loudest and clearest he ever heard.

It was quiet for some time until Akaashi turned the last page and all the checks were completed.

Glancing at the table, Udai was still half-chewing when he asked, “Are you finished, Akaashi-san?”

Akaashi confirms, then adds, “If there are no obstacles, the publication will proceed as scheduled.”

Udai nods, “I guess I can rest now.”

“Please.”

Udai almost complains, but instead he helps himself to stand up and excused himself. “Then. I’ll go home and rest. Ja ne, Akaashi-san. I’ll leave the rest to you.”

Udai had stepped away when Akaashi called out. So he stopped and turned back to the editor who immediately greeted him with a question.

“Are you free on the weekend?”

Udai frowns. He did not expect such a question coming from a guy at all.

“This weekend?”

Akaashi showed two tickets to Udai who was increasingly confused about what he was dealing with. “I got extra tickets for the theater show on the weekend.”

Udai paused for a moment, trying to figure out the best response in the midst of his confusion. Wait a minute. “We’re... going together?”

“No. I’m busy this weekend.”

Of course.

Udai feels betrayed by Akaashi’s flat, nonchalant answer. Something so obvious shouldn’t have been said out loud like that. And how do he explain this… he feels rejected and uncomfortable as his head went everywhere, to the most ridiculous things he could think of.

“You can go with anyone with those tickets.”

“Anyone?”

“Anyone. Someone of your friends or maybe your girlfriend.”

“Girlfriend?”

Then Akaashi’s question came like a bolt of lightning, “You don’t have something like that?”

Udai laughed blandly. “No.”

His laughter was gone but a smile was forced to line his lips when he rewarded the editor with a more or less the same question. “Why don’t you take your girlfriend instead?”

“I told you I’d be busy this weekend.”

Udai was caught off guard. He was half taken aback when he asked, “You have a girlfriend, Akaashi-san?”

“Yes.”

“Eeeehh? But who?” It would not be an exaggeration to say that Udai was almost shrieking at that surprisingly unexpected fact.

But on the other hand, Akaashi was too casual about it.

“Of course it’s none of your business.” The editor responded. This time he added, “If you can’t take these tickets, you’d better go home and rest. Please reduce your eye bags by getting enough sleep and eating regularly. Your fansign is next month, Udai-san.”

Udai laughed, he shook his head as he said, “Akaashi-san, you must have been a strict nerd with an angelic heart.”

“Thank you. I don’t know if I have ever been a nerd for even once.”

“Geeeh.”

Akaashi’s brows lifted, watching the curly-haired manga artist, “hm?”

Udai turned after bowing very politely to Akaashi, forcing the editor to return the bow properly. He then excused himself politely and closed the door very quietly. Weekly Shonen employs one hell of an editor and it’s Akaashi Keiji.

********************************************************

After a long and fairly strict process, the 22nd volume of Zombie Knight Zomb’ish was finally released. Reader responses were varied, but positive responses dominated. Then after all the process was over, the long awaited fansign that had been scheduled had come.

If asked about how familiar he is with fansigns—given that he is a manga artist—then Udai would honestly say that to this day he is still unfamiliar with some interaction with fans or fan service in modern words.

At his first fansign, Udai barely said anything and just kept his head down, focusing on the part where the fans came to ask him to sign their books. It wasn’t until Akaashi came whispering to him, telling him what he should say and do when his fans came, that Udai improved.

It wasn’t just a newfound nervousness. Since long time ago, Udai had never been very good with people. He had never really grasped the full feeling of being attached to his surroundings. Or maybe, he had, but only briefly.

Today, however, as the manga artist Udai Tenma, when he was confronted with fans lined up to wait their turn for just a few seconds with him, he had to overcome that weakness of his.

Sitting behind the the table was Udai, dressed more neatly than usual: not in a hoodie or plain t-shirt wrapped in his usual dark jacket, but in a light blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up. His hair, well... his hair remained in its usual style. Only, this time, he tried his best to avoid Mr. Akaashi always-demanding-the-best-of-what-one-can-give Keiji protests by styling his hair a bit neater.

From beside the desk where he sat, it was Akaashi who stood watching him like an owl from time to time.

“Good afternoon, thank you for coming and reading Zombie Knight Zomb’ish!”

In front of him was a quiet middle school student, reminiscent of the days when he was a student: the aloof, hostile, not really stood out, high-schooler Udai Tenma.

Udai wrote down that fan’s name after he spelled it and signed in the same place as where he signed it to the fan before him after learning that he had no special requests. Just like that, the youngster excused himself quickly from the spotlight. Udai was intrigued by the bit of the past that the fan brought before him, catching a little fragment of himself that used to hate attention in more or less the same way.

His smile lingered as he greeted the next fan who was surprisingly excited to meet him. Without prompting, she expressed her thoughts on his work. It was always pleasant to hear some people express their likeness about how good his works are, but to hear someone passionately declare an addiction to his work was something quite ridiculous and amusing.

Just before security let the next fan in, from behind came Akaashi who commented, “At least that person won’t be having an msg overdose.”

Udai still had a chance to reply, “Come on! It’s not that I’m addicted to some weirder things.”

“Alright. Please turn around and say hello to your fans, Udai-san.”

Udai returned to being the manga artist his fans had been eager to meet.

“Good afternoon. Thank you for coming and thank you for always reading Zombie Knight Zomb'ish!”

Udai didn’t expect that someone would talk about anything other than how much they loved and appreciated his work. He did not expect that the day would come when one of his fans would say something about him.

“Seeing you in person really amazed me. You have a very handsome face and a very sweet personality.”

“Eh?”

Udai almost stopped when he realized that of all people, he was the one who objected most to what was said about him instead of feeling grateful that one of his many fans was saying nice things about him in person. No, instead he was amused at himself blushing over the unsubstantiated accusation.

He swore he wanted to say something in his defense if only their time was not up and he had to attend to the next fan immediately. In the end, in a low tone under his breath, Udai said, “You must have the wrong person.”

Behind him, he caught an amused huff that made him take the time to slightly threaten the dreamy editor through his gaze. He had just enough time to return before the next fan arrived, more than enough to hear how the first thing the fan noticed was that the very editor standing behind him had a cute face.

That was definitely not something new. It was no secret that Akaashi had a charming face that attracted attention from the moment Udai first met him. As a man, Udai admitted that Akaashi had everything that made him worthy of being called a handsome man: a certain amount of coolness, a charming face, a serious and hardworking tendency in everything he did, a dexterity that he picked up from his days as a setter at one of Tokyo’s powerschools, and a fashion sense that was definitely a ladies’ delight. But definitely not with how fans express Akaashi Keiji in their dictionary.

Udai swore that he desperately had to hold back his laughter when the fan said that Akaashi looked like a baby owl.

If only Udai had enough time to pull out his cell phone, he would have taken a picture of Akaashi blushing. A super rare sight.

From then on, after the fansign, Udai started bringing up the fan’s words. It was clear to see how the strict editor Akaashi Keiji was caught off-guard by a fan praising him out of the blue.

At lunchtime, Udai didn’t stop teasing Akaashi about it, being so serious when stating that soon, the editor might be getting his own fans, or might soon be holding his own fansign considering that, at the end of the fansign, some fans had gathered and questioned whether the editor-san could get into the photo.

After quite happily colonizing Akaashi with the childishness he suddenly developed at the last minute, Udai excused himself and went to the toilet.

When he finished, Udai was walking at a leisurely pace. But fate wrote something different by still making him bump into someone even at the most leisure pace he took, even when he made sure that he paid attention to his surroundings this time.

Right in front of the corridor, a cell phone fell to the floor, followed by its owner he had just bumped into who immediately bent down to apologize and immediately followed to pick up her cell phone at the same time as Udai who also rushed to grab the phone for her.

Udai did not immediately get up when his eyes caught something he did not expect. Something unfamiliar yet familiar and warm in his memory. He stopped when the person he bumped into walked past him.

The sound of her footsteps gradually moving further away from her back, then stopped.

Seconds slowed in his world. The bustling sounds of the shopping center were drowned out by the silence that suddenly erupted through this unexpected coincidence. His heartbeat slowed down as if accounting for every second that passed. Inside his head, questions about this and that swirled around. He was not exaggerating anything to say that his world had once a blizzard. When the voice came, the snow in his world melted away, forcibly driven away with the unfamiliar warmth of spring bursting from the bottom of his chest when the voice rang in his ears.

“Udai... san?”

There were a few seconds that he missed before he helped himself to turn around, welcoming a presence he never dared to expect to be anywhere before his eyes.

His world turned into a black and white panel as all the color he knew returned to the girl.

“You’re... Udai-san, right? Udai Tenma-san. Right?”

Udai knew what name he would call, what he would say when his senses reconnected with that presence. Her.

He swallowed, swallowing all the feelings that came together in this unexpected encounter, trying to stem them with a little courage to open his voice.

“Sasaki?”

Sasaki Tsubasa, the one who is staring at him with a glimmer of newly flushed pleasure in her eyes. Her smile amused. Her eyes warm. Steadily, not awkward like him, she helped herself to face him properly.

“Oh. It’s really you, Udai-san.”

The time her smile bloomed, his world that once was a black and white panel, turned colorful. Just like when cherry blossoms bloomed during the first day of spring, she was there to color everything again.

“Thankfully, I didn’t get the wrong person.”

—

next chapter coming soon.

[educatedsimps]

HEYA THERE POOKIE BEARS🔥🔥 the voices told me to req for my wife akaashi “What are you doing?” “Striking a sexy pose.” “Well, sit down before you pull something.”

just for shats and giggles ( >o< )/!! i miss my akaashi fics so this will guarantee to fix my crippling depression !!!!

i also might pop in again for an osa fic hehe :33

xoxo,,, saku!!!🌸🌸

≪ back to fics masterlist

akaashi keiji x f!reader

a/n: i’m stupid i thought akaashi was the one striking a sexy pose HAHAHAHA i mean it's possible ... but unlikely 😂 anyway thank you for requesting sakuuu <3 hope this one's okay :,))

cw: timeskip spoilers, STRESSED akaashi, mostly humour, petnames (love, darling, babe), reverse comfort fic?

Akaashi rubbed his eyes as he yawned, feeling a throb of pain right behind his eyes. With strained eyes, he squinted at his laptop screen, and staring back at him were the words "page 206/632". Glancing at the clock on his desk, it read 1:56am. He sighed heavily, laying his head on the table for a second.

His boss' voice echoed endlessly in his head. "Keiji-kun, I hope you won't be too busy this weekend, 'cause I need these editions of the upcoming manga thoroughly checked and edited by Monday morning. I know you've already done a ton of work this week but this is just a little extra, I'm sure you'll be able to meet your deadlines." And with a dismissive wave, his boss had left the office.

The "little extra" Akaashi's boss was referring to was a folder of documents, each one a few hundred pages long. It wasn't the worst Akaashi had ever seen, but it was still a lot.

Don't get him wrong, Akaashi loved his job and he absolutely adored the mangas that they release, alongside the Tenma Udai. But recently, he'd been hounded by so many of his executives as well as the various departments of the company that he could hardly get a breather.

He wasn't a stranger to dark circles - they'd been a constant in his life ever since his third year of high school. Except they'd become deeper and darker than the abyss these past few weeks. He was stressed and exhausted, to say the least. Which was exactly why you decided that it had to stop today.

You had been encouraging your boyfriend to be more assertive at work, especially if he knew he couldn't meet - according to you - the "ridiculous and unreasonable" deadlines set for him. You had been looking out for him even more these few weeks too, taking over more of the house chores so he'd have time to complete all his work, taking over all the meal preps so he'd be fed while he did his work. Most importantly, you had been trying to drill it into his thick skull that his brain and body need a break, and so does he.

Unfortunately, your efforts hadn't been as effective as you had hoped, so you came up with the brilliant idea to order a massive, blow up Patrick Star costume online.

Do you see where I'm going with this?

Walking into the office room the two of you had set up in your apartment, you saw him tiredly rubbing his eyes and laying his head on the table. Strutting up to him, you planted your feet in a wide stance with one hand on your hip, and the other reaching towards your leg such that your body was bent at the waist.

Your poor boyfriend looked up to see you striking said pose in the blow up Patrick Star costume, a corset around your torso, rocking 6-inch stilettos with fishnet tights down your legs. To top it all off, it wasn't even your beautiful face that greeted him, it was the bright-eyed cheery face of the damn pink starfish.

Akaashi was absolutely sure he was hallucinating. Probably going insane. Deranged, even.

"Y-y/n?" his voice cracked.

"How do I look, babe?" you asked from inside Patrick Star, voice slightly muffled.

"What... What are you doing?"

"Striking a sexy pose," you replied nonchalantly, still in position.

Dumbfounded, Akaashi's brain was short-circuiting. "Ohmyg- Well, sit down before you pull something..." he facepalmed.

"HEy! I'm not that inflexible, okay? I'm disappointed you think so low of my athleticism," you scoffed, crossing your arms - which were still in your puffy costume - and turning your nose up.

"Okay, okay. I'm sorry, darling," Akaashi chuckled, amused. You hummed in acknowledgement, satisfied.

"C'mere," he said, rolling his chair over to you before pulling you down onto his lap. Unzipping your costume at the neck, you pulled it back to reveal your face, smiling gently at him. He looked even more haggard up close, and it made your heart squeeze seeing just how spent he looked.

"What's all this for, darling?" Akaashi laughed quietly, puling at the ends of your costume.

"Well," you drawled, hooking an arm over his shoulder. "Since someone hasn't been taking my advice, I decided to take matters into my own hands and resort to more... extreme measures."

Letting out a breath, he relented, "I know... I'm sorry, love. I just get really caught up with work and I don't really know how not to stress about all of it."

Placing a hand on each side of his face, you planted a kiss on his forehead and murmured, "It's okay, Keiji. It's not your fault your bosses have unreasonable expectations of you. You're just too good of an employee." You joked. "But I'm serious, you need rest. This has been going on for way too long. It's already 2am and you know you can't finish all this by tomorrow morning, so let's just go to sleep already, okay? I'll even help explain to your boss why you couldn't finish this last document. Like, I'll literally call him up right now and tell him he's crazy if he seriously expected you to burn your weekends just for his stupid-"

"No- babe, please don't. I'll handle it, I promise," Akaashi interrupted, gripping your waist as if he could physically stop you from getting agitated.

"Good," You said, content. "You can talk to me if you're feeling overwhelmed, you know that, right?" When he nodded, you placed a small kiss on his nose.

"Now, I don't wanna see any more overworked, underpaid, stressed and exhausted Keiji. I wanna see my well-rested, de-stressed, happy Keiji. Okay?" You continued, pouting.

"Yes, ma'am," your boyfriend replied before standing from his chair with you in his arms. "Now, let's get you changed into your comfy pyjamas and we'll both get some rest, yeah?"

"Yeah," you smiled as his lips pressed against yours.

a/n: the term wife akaashi is gonna be stuck in my head for the rest of this week HAHAH

© educatedsimps 2024. do not repost, copy, translate or plagiarise any work from this blog on tumblr or any other platforms. if you do, the simps will hunt you down. likes and reblogs are appreciated!

[jamminlocks]

Birthday Night {Akaashi x Reader}

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Tags: F/M, post time-skip, established relationship, birthday fic, soft Akaashi, afab reader, soft reader, Fluff, tooth aching fluff, Domestic Fluff, kissing, sfw, no smut, slightly suggestive in the end Word count: 1,135 Summary: though it's his birthday, a wonderful and acceptable reason to drink with friends, Akaashi made the active choice to just go home to simply get some rest and spend the night with you. A/N: a little something with the birthday boy :) [ao3]

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Exiting the station greets Keiji with early December weather. He makes his way to his apartment alone on his birthday. It's nothing to be sad about. His co-workers invited him to head out drinking, the drinks being on them. Bokuto invited hangout as well though there was no date for it. But, given that it's so early in the week and he still has Udai-sensei's chapter for the following weeks to be concerned about, with a lot of convincing, His gift of free drinks will be given on Saturday instead. While Bokuto's offer, on the other hand, had to be postponed for some time in the near future to at least before the year ends.

He left work and went his way home early, a rare occasion. Much like anyone else exhausted mentally and physically, Keiji tries to hurry home. Hurrying home not only to finally relax, but he has actual plans for tonight.

From the opposite direction of the street, he sees someone in a white coat and scarf, carrying a box by the ribbon on one hand and two big bags on the other. Their walk is familiar to him. The closer they got it he recognizes who it was and it warmed his cheeks.

Its you.

The moment you see him, you smile and the stiffness on your face is gone in an instant. Keiji gets to the edge of the street first and watches you speedily, yet carefully walk to him.

"Good Evening," you said with the energy of a sunny morning.

"Good Evening," he returned. Although not matching your energy, your gladness is contagious to him. "Aren't you early from what you said?"

"I wanted it to be a surprise that I was early," you said, the smile not leaving your face. It seems to radiate even more with the different make up you have today, You show off the box. "See, I bought cake! Happy birthday!"

He smiles softly. "and the other bags?"

"your gift and food. I'll cook us dinner. I've got dishes in mind." You nodded to the street In front of you, a sign to start heading to his apartment. Before he started walking, Keiji took one bag from your hand.

"here, let me. Give me the other one too."

"you'll open the door, though."

"fare enough. Then hand me the heavier bag." And so you did.

Walking together on the way to his apartment, you both talk about how the day was. Keiji speaking of work and his co-workers, comparing Kuroo's enthusiastic birthday greeting from Kenma's normal one, and Bokuto's invite to hangout yet not having a scheduled date for it. The weight of exhaustion leaves him as he listens to your day, how exciting it was to choose the cake, how lucky you were to finally get the scarf you wanted. The distance between you two never grows wider, even while walking up the stairs in the case of his apartment.

Keiji digs through the pocket of his pants for his keys. "Why don't you go in first and set everything down?" He said.

You hum in agreement. After a click in the knob, Keiji swings the door and keeps it open for you then enters himself. Once inside, the tension in his head and back he didn't know he had disappeared. The comfort of his space is a relief. All he hears of you as he strips his scarf, coat and shoes are your foot steps and the crackling of the bag being opened. Keiji takes in the atmosphere you give his home, hoping that it will be the beginning of a peaceful evening with you.

He fixes his coat onto the wrack, or he tries. The change of temperature in the air left his glasses misty. As he tries to find his cloth for his lenses in one of his coat pockets. The weight of a body presses on to his back and a pair of arms wraps around his torso.

"Keiji~" you said in that low and playful tone you do when wanting his attention. You were patient with him, keeping your grim on him loose as he fixed his glasses.

One he was done and Keiji placed them back on his face, he turned and you adjusted with him, placing yourselves chest to chest with each other. Your coat and scarf were already gone.

"yes?" He asked. It's rhetorical, really. In that he knows you aren't really asking for anything that can't be answered with his affection. wrapping he own arms around, he brings you in tighter. A kiss to your forehead was his 'thank you' for the hug. But before he could pull away, you lean in to peck on his cheeks. It's gentle and teasing, making Keiji hum, a bit tickled.

Then, you kiss him on his lips, light and fleeting. He thought you were done but one kiss led to another. From the way your arms are firmly on him, it was clear you had no intentions on letting him go just yet. Basically trapping him. So he mirrors your affection, kissing you back with the same gentleness, maybe a little more, but nothing too much.

The sensation of your lipstick is slightly sticky, but it doesn't take away from the warmth and softness of your lips with each little kiss. Slowly, his hand reaches to trace up your back. You, in turn, finally let go of him from your embrace, only to slither your hand up and cup his face.

Its warm, intoxicating. His cheeks being caressed by your finger as kiss and nip on and on the side of his lips. relaxing to his tired nerves. So relaxing in fact that he didn't even realize he was falling a little bit backwards until his back is against the door. Nice as this is, if this keeps up, he knows the rest of the night won't go as he and you planned. The food will be neglected as well.

He takes over a little, nipping and sucking on your bottom lip before firmly placing his hands on your hips and politely pushing you off him. With the way you look at him with a half-lidded gaze, it was clear you don't want it to be over, neither did he.

"don't get too carried away. We just got here," he reminds you.

"I know," you said. Despite saying this, you lean on him again, wrapping his waist once more and kissing his cheek, moving slowly down his neck. It heats Keiji up all over. "I missed you. Happy birthday, Keiji," you said, not entirely sultry, your earnestness showing more. He'd almost laugh, given he last saw you a few days ago. Still he understands your sentiment. It's hard for him to ask you stop, especially when your kisses feel so nice. But, really, the two of you won't leave each other's touch all night if this keeps going.

Keiji takes your arms and pushes them away. You are quick to understand that he is serious, so you pull back. He cups your cheek for you to face him. Seeing that your lipstick smudged to the side, he tries to wipe it with his thumb. The attempt makes you smile.

He smiles too. "Thank you, really," he said kissing you one last time before he is done for now. "We should get dinner ready."

"okay," you head off first, returning to the kitchen.

"I'll help you," he calls

"okay, I'll season the meat first!"

Keiji walks in front of the mirror close to the main door, about to fix his shirt to some capacity, though he doesn't think you did too much to wrinkle it more. What he first sees is his lipstick stains you left, from his neck, cheeks, and especially his lips, practically tinted its shade. He wipes the ones on his neck and it comes off quite easily, to his surprise and disappointment. His laugh is mixed in with a blissful sigh. He considers if he'll leave marks of his own on you later.

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a/n: it's bad enough that I don't post fics anymore. But here is something for you all since it's akaashi's bday. I won't be able to complete a whole fic again in a while because I have a thesis to write!! Please pray for me and my thesis everyone!! It will help in the quality of my fics, I promise

[heich0e]

Liv I was scrolling through the udai tenma x reader tag … y’know … for a friend … and i read your akaashi x udai x reader post and i gasped audibly .. so so good i felt like reclining on a chaise lounge and fanning myself like a woman in an old fancy painting who took faint

MAY PLEASE HOW FAR BACK IN THE TAG DID YOU GO TO FIND THAT !! i am howling

i am completely and hopelessly and against my better judgement obsessed with him

[anantradingpvtltd]

Price: [price_with_discount] (as of [price_update_date] - Details) [ad_1] Sargam An Introduction To Indian Music by K. Vishnudass Shirali One of the books, which made the appeal of Indian music spread to the west, was a brochure by Vishnudass Shirali published in the thirties, when he was the musical director of Uday Shanker’s famous troupe. Since then, this highly talented man has written a more comprehensive but vivid book about the internal rhythms of classical music. The simplicity and liveliness of his analysis of Nada or sound, Raga or the soul of classical music, the explanation of the grou0ping of beats or units, the Indian notation and orchestration, will grip the uninitiated reader as well as the expert. The highlight of the text is the chapter on different musical instruments used in Indian. There are 200 illustrations of these instruments, which is a unique feature of this book. Other illustrations include eight colour plates of Ragas and Raginis, and several black & white sculptures depicting musicians. This book is a model of accomplishment by one of the most versatile Indian Musical directors responsible for creating background rhythms for many dances, dramas and films and originating his own unique style of interpretations of Ragas. ASIN ‏ : ‎ B004OA6L78 Publisher ‏ : ‎ Abhinav Publications; 1st edition (15 February 2011) Language ‏ : ‎ English File size ‏ : ‎ 2089 KB Text-to-Speech ‏ : ‎ Enabled Screen Reader ‏ : ‎ Supported Enhanced typesetting ‏ : ‎ Enabled X-Ray ‏ : ‎ Not Enabled Word Wise ‏ : ‎ Not Enabled Print length ‏ : ‎ 134 pages [ad_2]

[suncakie]

[Sweet & Cliche]

/w Udai Tenma x gn!reader

Day thirteen

31 Days of Haikyuu Masterlist. [🏐]

Theme. High school crush

Warnings. Rushed, Mentions of School, kind of Cliche, Tenma is Oc

Notes. This sucks, No, all of the writings I did for the whole 31 Days of Haikyuu sucks, and this is just the start of my writing career going down:)

"Take a picture, it should last longer"

Blinking once, then twice, you cleared your throat and apologized for starring and continued writing down notes.

It was a high school crush.

To be honest, you didn't know what made you interested in him in the first place, he wasn't as tall as your other male classmates.

He isn't excelling in academics like the nerds in your class, he pretty much has a bad personality in general, coming off rude when he has good intentions.

He is good at volleyball though, but you aren't even into sports, you don't even know the basic rules of volleyball.

Heck, at first you thought he was gonna pickpocket you when you first met the guy, to only find out you left your wallet in the classroom and he is just here to give it back to you.

"Whatcha writing?"

In the second year of high school, you were able to befriend the guy, though at first, he did come out annoying, occasionally teasing you about liking him and saying things like 'baby' out of the blue to catch you off guard.

"The essay sensei assigned us last week"

"Wait, there's an essay?!"

In the third year of high school, you found the courage to ask him out on a friendly date, which to your surprise turned out a gleeful memory you could cherish in the future.

"Mario Kart or Minecraft?" You asked as you directed both of your hands to the pc and the Switch just beside it.

Tenma hummed for a moment, pushing back his hair he snapped his fingers towards you "how about you?"

You stared blankly at him, debating whenever or not to reply with a sarcastic tone or a flustered tone "clichè as hell Udai-kun, three out of ten"

"HEY!"

Day Thirteen

@suncakie 31 Days of Haikyuu 2020

[dira333]

Karasuno

Buying You Socks - Asahi

Drunk Love Confessions Drabble - Asahi

Loving you all week - Asahi

Took my soul, wiped it clean - Asahi

Glass Heart, take flight - Asahi (FC)

love is in the small things Asahi

The Muse - Asahi

Tank Top Drabble - Daichi

Where the sea meets the land - Daichi

Exam Stress Comfort Drabble - Hinata

Make-Up Drabble - Hinata

What’s summer to you - Hinata 

One door closes, another one opens - Kinoshita Hisashi

Cool Down - Summer Vacation - Kageyama

Wordless Conversation Drabble - Kageyama

This Is Me Trying - Kageyama

Proposal drabble - Kageyama

To come home - Kageyama

Imaginary friend - Kageyama

There is no time like Spring Kageyama

Winter Kageyama

Be yourself Nishinoya

Of Worries and Dejavu's - Sugawara

Are you a lover or a fighter drabble - Sugawara

Cupid on a mission - Sugawara

In Handwriting - Tanaka

Your heart fits like a key - Tsukishima Akiteru (drabble)

Care too much - Tsukishima Kei

Don't tease - Tsukishima Kei

To be honest - Tsukishima Kei

Open Up - Tsukishima Kei (follows When we went from friends to this)

When we went from friends to this - Tsukishima Kei

Sassy reader Tsukishima Kei

Current Friend, Future Husband? - Udai Tenma/Little Giant

Orange Peel Theory - Ukai Keishin

Writer and muse Yamaguchi

[haikyu-mp4]

♥︎ karasuno

back to masterlist

Asahi Azumane

I should have kissed you

Best dressed couple

Ennoshita Chikara

Beach, please

Hinata Shoyo

The sun and his flower

Sunshine day

Recharge – drabble

History

Natsu – drabble

Kageyama Tobio

Workplace romance

Man's best friend

Teamwork

Vanilla latte

My friend, the smiley

Present

When in Rome

Nishinoya Yu

I would

Tanaka Ryunosuke

Work ethic

Tenma Udai

Little big dreams

Tsukishima Kei

For cartwheeling

To feel seen

Part of the family

Huge frog fan

Pressure point

Of herbivores and miscommunication

Yamaguchi Tadashi

Proud captain

[bruh-haikyuu]

@arcangel-wings REQUESTED: Heya! I’m new to your blog and I really like your writing! Can I request Tenma Udai with an s/o who’s a baker while he’s in hs? So like he’s a delinquent and she’s a sweetheart who’s always giving people the stuff she bakes? Everyone thinks it’s weird but they fit together kinda thing 🥺?

A/N: Thanks for requesting!! This is über cute. Fem!Reader as alluded in the request^^

kilig. | udai tenma

word count: 2155

warnings: manga spoilers!!

(n.) the rush or the inexplicable joy one feels after seeing or experiencing something romantic

“Chocolate is the ingredient for love~!” you say after pouring what seems to be an entire bucketful of chocolate chips into your bowl.

Your friend Saeko has seen just about enough of your nonsensical chatter about baking, your boyfriend and your abundant love for both. Already exhausted from a recent scolding by the vice-principal, she decides that it’s better off to smile and nod rather than try to come up with a snarky remark for your innocent mania.

“T-That’s a lot of chocolate,” she blurts out. When she picks up her spatula from the bowl, the girl grumbles at the sight of a liquidy trail drizzling down the utensil. “Ahh geez, it’s not supposed to be like this, isn’t it? Katagiri-sensei’s going to fail me again...”

You smile and hand her a bowl of flour. “Don’t worry, Saeko-chan. Just add a bit more flour and you’re good to go! You can never go wrong with cookies.”

The halo above your head is nearly visible. Saeko swears she can even hear angels singing to her in the background as you mix away on your fragrant bowl of dough. You don’t even seem real—from your angelic grin down to your overwhelmingly flowery aura. It’s tough enough to imagine that you’d ever talk to her of all people, but to imagine you’d go for a guy who’s just as much of a thug...

Unthinkable! Saeko shakes her head. She’d thought you’d pulled a joke on her the first time you announced that you were dating... him. Udai Tenma, star of the Boys’ Volleyball Club, a red-hot beacon of undomesticated temper.

She’d always known you liked him—though which part of him you liked is somewhat still a mystery to her—and as much as Saeko wanted to protect you from those ruffians, that absolutely infatuated look in your eyes was too much to bear. And eventually, she succumbed to your incessant ambitions of high school romance.

“You’re a saint, dude,” she sighs longingly. “I don’t get how you’re still dating that guy. I’m not really one to say anything about this, but don’t you think Udai’s kind of a jerk with the way he treats you?”

You chuckle, like a sweet grandmother about to tell a nostalgic tale to her grandchildren.

“I suppose you can say that Tenma-kun is a bit shy. He likes to act tough and mighty when he’s around people, but he’s actually just a normal boyfriend with a very sweet tooth and a penchant for manga.”

Saeko scowls. “Normal’s normal, but you have to at least let him know that you have your limits too. I really can’t stand leaving the two of you alone, w-what if Udai breaks your heart, or worse—”

“Tanaka-san. If you have time for chatter back there, then surely, you’re finished with your cookies?” at the sound of the grouchy Home Economics teacher at the front of the class, Saeko quickly returns to her bowl in a sorry attempt to look busy.

Deciding to humor her interest, you lean towards her and whisper lowly. “I’ll be fine, Saeko-chan. He may not look like it, but Tenma-kun’s actually very cute.”

In her mind, it’s much easier to simply handcuff herself to you so that you’re under her watch at all times possible. But your gaze is nothing short of genuine—you really love this guy, and the fact that you’re still with him, assures Saeko even just a tiny bit that he might not be so bad after all... with you at least.

You’re already storming away in your little world of baking. It amuses your best friend whenever you’re off making your personal masterpieces (“‘Masterpiece’ is absolutely right!” she’d say while stuffing her mouth full of your mini tarts). Each and every one of your creations are whipped up with the utmost amount of love and care, and for just the right reasons, everyone’s been pestering you to set up a bakery after high school. Your regular patrons just happen to be the Karasuno Boys’ Volleyball Club—with the addition of the lively Coach Ukai who is rather fond of how much filling you put into your red bean buns.

As regular as regular can be, you’ve found yourself visiting the Volleyball Club clubroom after school every Wednesday to hand out your treats to not only your aloof boyfriend, but also to his friends, his coach and the prostrated manager who direfully needs a pick-me-up. And suddenly, you’re ‘Karasuno’s Cookie Goddess’.

“Ah, you’re making another batch, Y/N?” Saeko perks up when you split your dough in half.

“Yep!” you giggle, essentially a high school student drowning in love. “I want to make something special for Tenma-kun today.”

“... What’s the occasion? Is it his birthday or something?”

You shrug, face absolutely alight. “Nope, I just want to give him a surprise~”

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

Tenma isn’t exactly unapproachable. It’s just that people tend to avoid him at all costs. Perhaps you were just bold... or remarkably stupid, but if you hadn’t addressed him that day, life would’ve probably been drabber.

Your parents and your friends (with emphasis towards your overprotective Saeko-chan) had shown their unfiltered concern when the news of your relationship circulated like wildfire. What was the analogy they used, again?

“You’re like a rabid bridge troll and a rabbit! It doesn’t work!”  You could only laugh at their valiant efforts of a correlation... if they were really trying to make one. But after a few more reassuring pushes and awkward family dinners, they’ve come to be more lenient about your little ‘liaison’.

But you never feel like you have to worry when Tenma is around. In fact, when Tenma is around, you feel calm—even when he’s spouting off curses to a taller rival.

There’s a warmth unlike any other when he holds or kisses you. And though you’d have to drive him through hell and waters to say it out loud, you already know that every action he does for you is out of love. Words are material, it’s the action that counts, right?

“Sorry for the intrusion~!” you call out into the open doors of the Boys’ Volleyball Club’s space.

A flash of obnoxious yellow hair flashes before your eyes and suddenly, an imposingly tall  figure appears in front of you out of nowhere. “Cookie Goddess!”

“Good afternoon, Yukimura-kun,” you smile. “Is there only you right now?”

“I’m here too, Y/N-chan,” the lax-faced captain Tokito emerges from the room in the midst of zipping up his jacket. His eyes flicker towards the packages in your hands and a smile cracks on his face. “Ooh, chocolate chip cookies today~”

You quickly raise the fragrant bags of treats into their view, bringing in the remaining swamp of boys from the clubroom. Suddenly, the common hallway is blocked by an influx of starving teenagers who are rampaging on about your existence.

“So good...” Yukimura murmurs dreamily, mouth full of chocolate. “Man, anyone would be lucky to have you as their wife if you were to cook them these everyday.”

A brazen first-year with frosted tips elbow him and sighs. “Too bad you’re taken, huh, Y/N-chan-senpai? If it were me instead of him, I’d always make it a point that ‘Heeey... guess what my girlfriend made for me today~ Isn’t she the best—”

“Oi, brat. Whose girlfriend do you think you’re talking about?”

The gangle of boys freeze up simultaneously at the grouchy voice behind you (aside from Tokito, who’s yawning at the whole ordeal). Whipping around to the dark aura boring holes into your back, you immediately light up at Tenma’s presence.

“Tenma-kun~!” you launch at him with your arms wide open. You’re ready for some sort of swerve from him, so you make sure you protect his bag of cookies with your arm... You’ve learned this counter-attack the hard way, of course.

But what you don’t expect is that your boyfriend makes no move to avoid you at all.

“H-hey! Don’t just lunge at me like that, you idiot! What if you fell down and knocked your head open?” Ah, at least the embarrassed comment is there.

You can only smile at him kindly. From the edge of your eyes, you swear that you can see a light blush dusting his face as your boyfriend gains newfound interest in your shoes.

“Come with me for a while,” he finally grumbles, effectively breaking the silence between the both of you. Grabbing your hand, Tenma leads you down the little aluminium staircase, eliciting small grates from the steps below you and a mass of curious whispers from the group you’d just left behind.

“Hey, Udai-kun~” Tokito calls out, a lilt of roguery in his tone, “Make sure to get back in time for practice, okay? And keep Y/N-chan in one piece, won’t you? We can’t get another Cookie Goddess if you don’t.”

When he turns into a secluded corner away from the prying eyes of his teammates, you can hear him audibly huff and mutter something under his breath. As silence lingers between you, you nearly forget about the reason why you came to visit.

“I made some cookies for you, Tenma-kun,” you say to him, urging the neatly wrapped bundle into his hands. “I hope you like it.”

You can clearly see the hesitation in his eyes when he takes it in his hands. You can probably guess why.

(“Y/N, your skills with a knife are scary, dude,” Saeko grimaced as she watched you trail over the dough with the gleaming blade of your paring knife.

“Aaand... done!” you proudly wiped the sweat off your forehead. It would’ve been more helpful with a cookie cutter around, but you figured that it would’ve been more heartfelt otherwise.

‘Heartfelt’, you pondered on the word for a moment. Would this be too heartfelt for such a rag-tag person like Tenma? It would probably be better to go for something simpler, just like the other days...

Nah. You shook your head as you chucked the tray of heart-shaped cookies into the oven.)

You’re hoping for a shocked response from him, but Tenma only grumbles meekly. You brace yourself for another scolding for acting too chummy with him, or being too affectionate, or—

“You shouldn’t get too close with other guys.”

Wait.

Tenma crosses his arms, the curls of his hair falling gently over his forehead. His pink cheeks darken into a soft maroon. “If they found out you’re giving me this sort of special treatment, they’ll be all over you the next day, asking for it too... I don’t like it.”

The laugh that rises in your throat threatens to burst. What is this, you think. Your stomach hurt from the mere image of this innocent “delinquent” professing his jealousy for you. If he was like this all the time, wouldn’t that be an interesting change... Aah, your boyfriend really is cute, isn’t he?

A giggle escapes you and you watch him jolt in chagrin. “Tenma-kun, you’re so red.”

“I’m not!” he yells rather briskly, then shoots back at you. “You can’t say I’m red when you were all burning up as you were giving me these heart-shaped cookies.”

Touché. “I’m glad you like them, Tenma-kun.”

His gaze visibly softens up as you give him an angelic smile. “Uh, yeah. Thanks.”

At times like this, you really do see the boy who’d shyly confessed to you under the shade of the summer ginko tree. It wasn’t anything of a distant memory, it was just that Tenma’s usual demeanour and your unrelenting tolerance hindered the both of you from being completely outward with one another. Maybe something like this isn’t so bad after all.

“I-I have to go back to practice. You can go home by yourself, right?” your boyfriend clears his throat, urging you to leave.

Though you wished the moment would last a little longer, you know there are other countless shared opportunities with him. “Mm-hm! You do your best in practice, okay?”

He ruffles your hair and chuckles endearingly.

“Atta girl. Now go home before Tokito catches me getting all touchy-feely with you.”

Bidding him goodbye, you sullenly trudge away from your boyfriend (and his friends waving back at you from the balcony). Then the idea strikes you.

Special cookies ought to have a special flair to them, no?

Cupping your hands around your mouth like a megaphone, you shout, loud enough for his teammates to hear. “I love you, Tenma-kun~!”

And the crowd goes wild.

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

From: Tenma-kun ♡

Subject: Untitled

(15:58) Now Tokito’s all over me thanks to you, making me do extra diving drills. You better make more of those cookies as compensation, idiot. Be prepared for it.

(15:58) Btw, don’t forget to look both ways when you cross the street on the way home. If you get into an accident, you won’t be able to apologize to me properly.

(15:58) ... Hey.

(16:00) I love you too.

[hellobunny044]

Panels. | Series

panel. in manga art, panels refers to the frame that wraps around one moment in time.

********************************************************

an original Haikyū AU pairing Udai Tenma (the og little giant)

warning!!: containing some manga content.

word count: 6790

********************************************************

Panel - 8

Udai sat at his desk, the dim light of the lamp casting a warm glow over his workspace. His fingers flicked across the keyboard, jotting down notes and ideas as they came to him.

He was working hard on the rough sketch of the whole plot twist, and his enthusiasm for the story had reached new heights. He felt like a conductor, orchestrating the characters and events of his manga into a grand symphony of emotion and excitement.

The idea of a human organization behind the outbreak of zombies had opened up a new world of possibilities for him, and he was determined to make the most of it.

Udai’s mind raced with possibilities as he sketched out the rough outline of the new plot twist. He added notes about how the organization would interact with the other characters, and how it would affect the climax of the story.

As he worked, Udai felt a great sense of satisfaction, knowing that he was creating something unique and exciting. He had always loved manga, and now he was finally making one of his own.

But at the same time, he felt the weight of responsibility on his shoulders. He knew that he had to make the story work, had to craft characters and situations that would keep readers intrigued and engaged.

Udai worked through the night, barely stopping to eat or rest. He was consumed by his vision, and he knew that he had to do everything he could to bring it to life.

As morning approached, Udai put down his pen and leaned back, admiring his handiwork. The rough sketch was complete, and he felt a sense of pride and accomplishment wash over him.

Udai had barely slept a wink, so consumed was he with his rough sketch of the plot twist.

Satisfied with his accomplishment, Udai took his phone out and took a photo of his work which he sent to his editor.

To : Akaashi Keiji

05.51 - *attachment*

05.52 - Perfectly wrapped!! >.<

Udai was still surprised by the fact that his editor would even still be there to reply to him in the early morning, still wondering what time he actually woke up.

From : Akaashi Keiji

05.54 - Congratulations.

However, even being a super fast-responding editor, there was no excitement that he could capture from his reply. Akaashi Keiji was indeed a flat man, unsurprisingly. Udai vowed to bet that so far, he had only ever seen two punctuation marks on any of his messages. Well, it wasn’t like he expected a message to be more expressive.

To : Akaashi Keiji

05.55 - Let’s meet, Akaashi-san!

05.55 - I’ll show you the details and everything. You’re definitely gonna love it for 120%, Akaashi-san!!

05.56 - And please show some excitement to cheer me up -_-

From : Akaashi Keiji

05.58 - I’m excited.

Exactly.

To : Akaashi Keiji

05.59 - I’ll meet you up at 7 or 8 in café B

05.59 - Give me some time to at least pretty myself before meeting you. I need to look competent.

From : Akaashi Keiji

06.00 - At seven, in café B.

Udai sighed, “As expected from our Akaashi Task-Focus Keiji-san.”

As soon as the sun had risen, Udai was already on his way to meet with Akaashi at the scheduled time. He couldn’t wait to show off what he'd created.

As he sat in the café, sipping on a warm cup of coffee, Udai could feel the excitement building up inside him. He pulled out his sketch and slid it across the table to Akaashi.

“Good morning, Akaashi-san! Good day today!”

Akaashi greeted with his casual trademark politely, “Good morning, Udai-san.”

Although Akaashi may seem ignorant and strict, he was actually a nice guy on the other side. It was no surprise that he took the time to order another coffee in advance. Saving Udai the hassle of wasting time queuing up alongside the formal office hours chasers lining up before the ordering counter, not to mention that he pretty much knew what Udai would order and ordered that.

But, honestly, Udai was still wondering if Akaashi was really that considerate or if all along, it was just something he did to save time. Remembering that they were here about work, and Akaashi Keiji is Akaashi Task-Focus Keiji in the first place.

After some simple pleasantries, Udai pulled out a tab and handed it to Akaashi. Then, those hopeful seconds rolled around.

Akaashi took a sip of his own coffee and studied Udai’s work, his eyes narrowing in concentration. Udai waited eagerly for his reaction, hoping for praise and approval.

But instead, Akaashi was quiet for a long time. Finally, he spoke.

“Alright. I’m done reading.” Akaashi said, taking a sip of his coffee.

Udai nodded, shifting closer so that he could get what significant change to hear Akaashi clearer. His little notebook was ready, a pen was ready on his mark.

“First off, I think the pacing could be improved. The introduction of the human organization behind the outbreak should be more gradual, to build suspense and tension.”

Udai frowned in concentration. Pen brushing against the paper of his notebook as he writes everything his editor was mentioning thoroughly. His eyes distractedly scanning over the panel that Akaashi was talking about.

“I see,” he said, “what else, Akaashi-san?”

Akaashi took another sip of his coffee before continuing. “Also, I think the character motivations need to be clearer. Right now, they feel a bit muddled and inconsistent.”

Udai felt a sense of frustration. He thought he'd understood his characters perfectly, but now it seemed like he had to go back to the drawing board.

“I see…” he paused, thinking about something, then nodded, “I get it,” he said.

Akaashi leaned back in his chair. “That’s all from me.”

Udai nodded.

“But don’t worry, Udai-san. These are small tweaks that can be easily fixed. And besides, the overall concept of the story is still strong. I think you have something special here.”

Udai took a deep breath, feeling a bit reassured. Akaashi was right — the story was still rough around the edges, but it had the potential to be great. They’ve talked about this before and agreed that this was a promising twist to end the whole story with.

“I sure get it, Editor-san.”

********************************************************

Udai let out a sigh as he rummaged through his drawer, searching for a pen. But as he dug deeper, his hands brushed against something soft and familiar

A small, old notebook, brown in color.

Udai felt a pang of nostalgia as he picked up the notebook, the one he used to carry with him everywhere back then in highschool. It was quite a multifunctional notebook as it could be something he would write some scratches of mathematical scribble or just something he would use to fool his Japanese teacher about his invisible homework. And then, he also uses this small notebook to pour some fragments of his lame, cringe, stupid ideas as just an inexperienced high-schooler.

The panels that filled some of the pages were fading, fragile with time. The once vibrant images that filled the empty panels have almost disappeared, no longer echoing those voices he remembered in the back of his mind.

As he flipped through the pages, memories flooded back to him—of his first ever manga to be created; the first one he was dared to share the public with, while on the other side of the fragile page was a sketch that once he tried so hard to hide from Akaashi.

Her. His first ever drawing of Tsubasa, his first inspiration, the main protagonist of his first manga.

He remembered it.

It was nothing more like his current work with all the darkness and grayness of zombies and conflicts that are hard to digest. Back then, his first manga was a cringe-worthy story about a schoolboy romance ignited by the feelings that blossomed in pink.

Unlike Zombie Knight that sold hundreds of millions of copies worldwide, his first manga was only rewarded with a small panel at the end of a weekly newspaper, the result of his gambling with fate that won him a lucky break.

About his first manga, Udai never said that he was particularly skillful, or that the story was particularly good. Instead, there were many weaknesses in his first manga. But back then, everything was pink, because beside him, there was always a warm whisper of reminder to always appreciate himself.

She had been there with him during those early days, encouraging him and supporting him when he was just starting out.

How cruel time had been.

It consumed all the panels containing the fragments of his ideas on those fragile sheets, yet, it seemed reluctant to take away the depiction of his first love, as if it was determined to keep punishing him with agony.

His chest ached, tight with regret that he could not put into words. Even a thousand apologies would not be able to contain his regret for what he could not repeat.

About the last time, yes, Udai was surprised because he didn’t expect that Tsubasa would be one of the million readers-not to mention, fans-of his manga. He wasn’t sure how he would sum up his feelings after gathering them all one by one.

There was something about this that excited him; that she read his manga, and even took some time to read his manga in between her presumably hectic work. It was a small victory, something that meant so much to him.

It was certainly something to be proud of, not only as a creator who managed to turn the world of one of his readers from time to time, as a Senpai who managed to gain the sincere support of one of his Kohai, but also as... someone who worked hard to realize one of the dreams they had once shared together in the early days.

However, something about this also made his chest tight.

The fact that she was the one who knew the most about his journey from the scratch, and still continued to be one of his readers until he was at this high made his heart clenched.

The door that led him to go back no longer existed.

That time, frustrated with what fate could not give him, frustrated that his hand could not reach an opportunity he desperately wanted to grasp, Udai lost his ability to distinguish between red and green.

The words that came out of his mouth, drumming like thunder, shutting down the only access he had.

One day, when there was a chance to turn everything back, he still put his ego first though a large part of him was fighting to be released from his binding pride, to return to the panel where the two of them were connected, to her.

Later on, when he encountered the last chance indifferently, the last access he had to return simply disappeared.

If only he could—

Udai shook his head, trying to clear his mind. He had work to do—work that Akaashi had pointed out needed improvement. He couldn’t let himself get distracted by thoughts of Tsubasa.

With renewed focus, Udai set to work. He spent hours poring over his sketch, making the changes that Akaashi had suggested. He adjusted the pacing, worked on making the character motivations clearer, and tightened the overall structure of the story.

As he worked, Udai found that his mind kept wandering back to Tsubasa.

He wondered if she was reading his manga now in between something she would be doing on her desk, if she would be proud of him for chasing his dreams. But he knew that he couldn’t let those thoughts get in the way of his work.

********************************************************

Udai had spent the whole night working on the changes that Akaashi had suggested. He had barely slept, hands sore from the constant sketching and note-taking.

But finally, he had a finished product in front of him — a revised rough sketching of the new twist of Zomb’ish ending, with the pacing smoothed out and the character motivations crystal clear.

He couldn’t wait to show Akaashi, to see the look of approval on his editor's face. As he headed to the café the next day, he felt a sense of nervous excitement building up inside him.

Akaashi was already there when Udai arrived, sitting at their usual table with a cup of coffee in front of him. Udai pulled out his sketch and slid it across the table to Akaashi, unable to contain the smile spreading across his face.

“Check it out, Akaashi-san.” Udai said, feeling a sense of pride and accomplishment wash over him, “I think I’ve finally nailed it.”

Akaashi took a sip of his coffee before studying the sketch, his eyes narrowing in concentration. Udai waited eagerly for his reaction, feeling his heart pounding in his chest.

But as he watched, Akaashi’s face remained impassive. He kept looking back and forth between the sketch and Udai, expression unchanged.

Finally, he spoke. “Hm. This is much better,” he said, “but I still think the pacing could be improved in this scene here.”

Udai felt the frustration rising inside him. He had worked so hard on this, putting all of his energy and passion into making the changes that Akaashi had demanded. And yet, it still wasn’t enough.

“Akaashi-san,” Udai said, making sure disappointment creeping into his voice, “I worked all night on this. I’m overworked and exhausted, and you still want me to make more changes?”

Akaashi looked up at him, his expression nonchalant as ever. “I just gave you some necessary feedback on how to improve your manga, for your own sake, Udai-san,” he said, “and as the mangaka, you are to make the necessary changes to realize what’s better. It’s necessary to be proud of your work, but you should also be willing to make changes when they’re necessary.”

Udai sighed, feeling a sense of guilt washing over him. He smiled wryly, almost a grin but more of a wincing sound. “As expected, your words are as sharp as ever. Do you have some kind of routine to sharpen them every morning? That’s why you’re waking up that early in the morning every day? And just how many times did you mention the word necessary just now?”

Akaashi did not respond, prompting Udai to quickly add what should have been his answer earlier. “I thought you’d be a little foolproof. Anyway, alright,” he said, trying to keep the defeat out of his voice, “I’ll make the necessary changes. But please, Akaashi-san. Can you show some mercy?”

Akaashi paused, his eyes locking onto Udai’s. For a moment, Udai thought he saw a flicker of kindness in them, a hint of sympathy.

But then Akaashi spoke, his tone nonchalant. “Well, only if you’re up for a hiatus, I suppose?”

Udai groaned, “Oh, come on!”

And with that, Akaashi took another sip of his coffee, his attention already shifting to something else.

“I’m 100% sure you are still going to demand a revision on my graveyard. I’m 100– no, 200% sure of that!” Udai muttered.

“Well, then, that’s cruel.”

“You’re the one saying that?”

Hours turned into days, and Udai felt himself slipping deeper and deeper into a hole of pure artistic drive. He was consumed by his work, tweaking and refining every detail until it was perfect.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he had a new draft ready.

Finally, Akaashi spoke. “Hm. This is it,” he said, “this’ll do.”

“Yosh!” Udai smiled, fisting the air confidently, missing the slight smile in Akaashi’s face. “Finally, a chance to sleep!”

“Sleep?”

Akaashi’s eyebrow, quirked. “You have a deadline for the 25th volume, Udai-san. Have you forgotten about that?”

His world was upside down, his head buried in the table as his mouth uttered a cry of whine.

“Akaashi-san… Remission please~”

Udai raised his head, his face making Akaashi frown in horror. It was truly a look that made people concerned.

“Udai-san, at this rate, you look more terrifying than the walking dead in your manga. Your face is terrifying!”

“Akaashi-san…”

********************************************************

Udai stumbled out of the café, his mind still filled with thoughts of deadlines and work. He was exhausted, barely able to keep his eyes open, let alone focus on anything else.

But as he walked down the sidewalk, lost in his own world, he suddenly felt something collide with his leg. He looked down, feeling a sense of surprise creeping up on him.

A little kid was standing there, looking up at him with wide eyes. A little boy. He couldn’t have been more than five or six years old, dressed in a bright orange jacket and holding a teddy bear in one hand.

Udai felt a sense of panic rising up inside him. He was not good with kids. He had never been good with them, even when he was young, and now he was too tired and overworked to deal with something like this.

But before he could say anything, the kid spoke up. “Excuse me,” he said, his voice trembling slightly, “can you help me find my dad?”

Udai felt the panic rising up inside him. He didn’t know what to do or say. He was too flustered, too overworked, and too exhausted to think straight.

“I, uh,” he started, feeling his voice falter, “I’m not sure. I don’t… I don’t know where your dad is.”

The kid’s lower lip started to quiver, and Udai felt a sense of guilt washing over him. He didn’t want to make the kid cry.

But try as he might, he couldn’t think of anything to say or do. He was too lost in his own thoughts, too consumed by his own problems.

As the little boy’s sobs grew louder, people started to turn and stare. Udai felt a sense of embarrassment wash over him. He didn’t want to cause a scene, didn’t want to be the center of attention.

Awkwardly, still unsure of what he could say to calm the little boy down, let alone of anything he could do for him, Udai bent down to meet him. His hand slowly, hesitantly and awkwardly, tried to touch the little boy’s shoulder to calm him down.

First of all, just do it like this… right?

His brain quickly to find a way out. Finally, he managed to stammer out something, something that only made things worse. “I-I’m sorry, but.. but I really don’t know how to find your dad.”

He was dumb.

The little boy’s crying was getting worse. Instead of making the little boy feel better, what he had just said, made things worse. As expected, he was really bad with kids.

Not to mention his looming deadline waiting at the apartment, another thing happened on his way back.

Panic and guilt mixed with his anxiety when she was being noticed by every eye that passed by them. Udai was rooted to the spot... it was obvious that immediately leaving this little boy alone right there would make him a total jerk, right? But even then, his presence only exacerbated this little boy’s crying.

Just as he was about to open his mouth to say something, someone passed by, approaching the little boy and greeting him kindly.

His world was momentarily taken over by the figure that had just passed by. Someone familiar had been there, taking over his role as the adult he had failed to play.

Crouching down to meet the little boy was Tsubasa who had appeared out of nowhere behind him. Although he wondered about her unexpected presence—and about this whole threatening thread of their continuous encounter—he was grateful that it was Tsubasa, who had always been very much better at things that he was bad at.

Her hands met the little boy’s shoulders gently, and she was warm. Her smile was as warm as a spring breeze.

“Hey, it’s okay,” her soothing voice, would no doubt immediately soothe the little boy from his crying which had previously gotten worse because of him. “Are you lost?”

The child nodded, hiccupping as he tried to speak. “I can’t find my dad,” he said, tears streaming down his face.

“Ah? Is that so? So you can’t find your dad?”

“Yes.”

Tsubasa was nodding.

“Are you going to help me find my dad, Onee-san?”

Tsubasa nodded again, this time a smile spread across her lips. “Yes, I am.”

“Really?”

“Really.” Tsubasa promised, “You can wipe your tears now—”

“Isamu, Tanaka Isamu.”

“Ah? So, your name is Isamu?”

The little boy nodded, “Yes.”

Tanaka.

Wait. Tanaka?

That name rang a bell to Udai. A name that he once heard back then in high school, a name of a familiar classmate with particularly short, blonde hair.

His eyes fixed to the little guy talking with Tsubasa, scanning that little boy, obviously looking for some resemblance that could ring a bell.

“Well, you got a very good name right there, Isamu-kun! Your parents must have thought so well to give you the name as it goes really well with you! Isamu. Bravery.”

Udai was unable to move as his eyes took in the way Tsubasa had her own way of soothing the lost little boy.

His heart clenched, tight with pain. Throbbing at every second he spent watching what was unfolding before him. Yet, on the one hand, seeing all the interactions between Tsubasa and the little boy brought relief to her heart.

“Alright brave boy, let’s find your dad! Can you tell me where did you see him last?”

“We were walking on the street and my dad said he wanted to go to the toilet. But he was taking so long, so I went to check… But I couldn’t find any toilet nearby and get lost in the street.”

“Alright, I get it. Now can you tell me about what your dad looks like?”

Watching Tsubasa saving his ass in front of the little boy made Udai feel embarrassingly safe.

Then, when she was done listening to everything the little boy said, Tsubasa turned to Udai. Her eyes that looked at him warmly carried with them a million pains that stabbed straight into his heart.

“Udai-san, hello,” she said.

The world was about her. The world was her.

Udai struggled to breathe, almost forgetting how to do so. And he almost forgot how to speak.

As best he could, he tried to answer her greeting in a friendly manner. A smile might be difficult, but a friendly greeting wouldn’t hurt, right? After all, in no time now, Hatakeyama Jiro might be coming to catch up with her, certainly couldn’t stand to be a second longer away from his significant other.

“Oh, Tsubasa. Hi.”

Even after a moment, Udai didn’t realize that he had just called her by her given name rather than her last name like the last two times. He only realized after Tsubasa’s eyes softened at him, tender, and so warm that guilt creeped up preying on his skin.

“I mean… Sasaki. Hello, Sasaki.”

Tsubasa just smiled, then immediately told him that she would help the little boy find his father. She intended to call the police to keep an eye on the little boy and will wait until the police come. Udai could see how the little boy held Tsubasa’s hand comfortably, certainly feeling safe and a thousand times better.

“I’ll be back when I’m done. Can you wait for me at a nearby park?”

Udai felt his heart sink into his stomach. Dumbstruck, he could only stare at her.

“I’ll be there to join you soon,” Tsubasa said, “so, wait for me.”

You’ll be there soon... then... then what? What of it that’s good for me? For us?

********************************************************

He should have said something.

Udai should have said something like ah, don’t bother coming back, I won’t wait for you, I’ll just leave, or perhaps something that’s more like I really wasn’t expecting another encounter with you, so please just go.

He should have said something, yet he didn’t. And it was because he couldn’t bring himself to say something that he felt annoyed with himself.

Didn’t he not want this meeting? Getting involved with her, getting into this panel was the last thing he wanted—

“Udai-san?”

Her voice came closer. Udai’s world shifted from the gray of self-reproach and the deafening hum of regret, to the warm greeting of a familiar woman smiling at him.

Her hand waved, kindly greeting him before she joined him.

Time is cruel. So is fate.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” Tsubasa joined him, not hesitating to sit in the empty spot beside him. Her gaze was on him as she said, “I had to take care of other things while handing the child over to the local police. Ah, but the little boy’s father arrived just before the police took him.”

“Yeah?”

Tsubasa nodded. “Hm.” She took out a business card and showed it to Udai. “Her father is a personal trainer.”

Tsubasa’s gaze focused on the business card, missing how Udai’s gaze focused on her. It was as if his gaze was glued to her every feature, and as if the world around her was sinking into black and white.

Was it true that this encounter was the last thing that he wanted?

Turning to face him, Tsubasa was almost surprised to find that Udai had been watching her all along. Udai, realizing that he had been caught looking at her carelessly, immediately averted his gaze. Awkwardness creeping over his skin. Subconsciously, his hands clenched. Stupid thing, he cursed.

Udai was just about to apologize, but Tsubasa preceded him.

“I—“

“I’m sorry, Udai-san! I didn’t mean to startle you.”

Slowly, Udai turned to Tsubasa.

“I didn’t know that you were seeing the business card.”

Their gazes met.

Udai didn’t know whether to be grateful that he wasn't caught, or to be disappointed for some stupid reason.

He stared at the business card Tsubasa handed him for a moment as he heard her, “Here.”

Then Tsubasa added, “Ah, right. They’re also from Miyagi. What a coincidence, right?”

Udai had expected that before. The name Tanaka that the little boy brought up was all too familiar in his memory. He didn’t need Tsubasa to tell him that. He remembered the name he read on the business card.

“Ah, yeah…” Udai hesitated to nod, “thank you.”

Tsubasa smiled and quickly pulled out the business card and slipped it into the pocket of the jacket she was wearing.

Udai glanced over after hearing Tsubasa exhale loudly; a sigh of relief that ended in a smile as her eyes wandered to something he didn’t really want to know about.

“Summer will be over really soon…” she murmured.

This time, before being caught watching her again like before, Udai gathered the remnants of his sanity to quickly shift his gaze. Then just as he expected, Tsubasa returned him.

Really, though. He really wanted to ask her just for once, was she okay every time she was looking at him so casually like this? Since he never was..

“I’m sorry,”

Udai, who immediately turned, was greeted by Tsubasa’s smile. Although initially surprised by her words and the way she was looking at him, he frowned, even more confused by her words.

“that must’ve been so surprising for you.”

“Huh? About… about what?”

“About that little boy before,” Tsubasa continued, “you must have gotten confused when he started crying.”

Udai almost winced.

“Well... there are many unexpected things on the road. A mugging, a hit-and-run, a fight, a little boy looking for his father who was from Miyagi,” Tsubasa smiled before she got to her last sentence, “also about meeting you again on the street.”

The world around them went silent at that sentence. Everything slowed down, time, and everything outside of their panel slowed down.

“But I bet you must have been pretty flustered by a little kid suddenly crying in front of you, well... not to mention that it was surprising.”

The world returned to its normal rotation, and Tsubasa had returned to meet his gaze.

At Tsubasa’s innuendo, Udai grimaced. He almost looked half dejected when he said, “Do I look like that unreliable for you to say that?”

“Ah?”

Udai sighed, “I, too, am an adult myself.”

No matter how hard Udai denied the connection and familiarity between them, it would never be enough to fool his feelings. In the midst of his persistence to resist prolonged interaction with her, his body naturally succumbed to the magnetic force she brought with her. And that was how this interaction came back to its pole, to the panel he was on.

Udai would surely regret this.

One night, he would wake up to witness how he was wrapped in a bundle of guilt for crossing the line, for coming back into her life.

Then her laughter rang out, crystal clear in his ears. And the sight, oh, don’t even ask. Udai had no idea that somewhere in this world, he would find something that could match what he was witnessing.

Her eyes narrowed as she turned to meet his gaze. Beautiful, as ever. A glimpse of Sasaki Tsubasa, whom he met nine years ago, fit in between them. Udai’s heart swelled with pain, regret, and longing all rolled into one.

“Well, that little boy can decide for himself,” Tsubasa said.

In her smile this time, there was innuendo and confidence and a hint of joke. In his eyes however, there was something unreadable.

The one second during which their gazes met felt like a thousand years, seconds spinning away for what seemed like forever. Immediately, before he crossed the line even further, Udai averted his gaze.

“Ah! Right!”

Udai was almost startled by Tsubasa’s voice. He immediately turned to meet her.

“About that day,” Tsubasa continued, “what happened to your precious t-shirt?”

Udai remembered, “Oh…”

Guilt had just entered Tsubasa’s eyes. Her forehead furrowed, almost looking like she was wincing as she said, “I’m really sorry for what happened the other day! I was really careless!”

Udai raised both hands, “O-oh... yeah, I’m fine.”

“Then what happened? Did you wash it yourself?”

“Eh?”

“Your t-shirt I mean,” Tsubasa said. “Did you wash it on your own?”

“Sure— ah, I took my clothes to the laundry.” Udai quickly continued before Tsubasa could say anything. “I made a note to the laundry worker to pay attention to the ocha stains.”

“Is that so?”

Udai nodded.

Tsubasa sighed, sounding more relieved this time. “Thank goodness,” she murmured.

Udai hummed. His gaze shifted, leaving Tsubasa behind.

The atmosphere returned to silence. They were both immersed in the sounds of the bustling street with no thought of immediately resuming the conversation. Even Tsubasa, who usually could not stand the silence for long, this time also chose to side with the silence. Udai wouldn’t blame her. What did she expect from a conversation with some ignorant jerk like him? What did she expect from the man who had broken her heart?

“Well…” Tsubasa finally spoke. Her relieved sigh invited Udai to return. “I guess I can say that I’m a slightly better adult than you, Udai-san.” she smiled kindly at him.

“Also,” Tsubasa was still smiling. The seconds when she paused her sentence were heavy with anticipation, “it’s been a while since I heard someone call me by my real name.”

Udai was dumbfounded. Damn tongue.

No.

Damn brain. If his brain hadn’t thought the name he usually called her was Tsubasa, then he wouldn’t have called her name so carelessly. Or was it his heart? His feelings?

No. Damn fate and time.

If fate and time had not brought them together, Udai would not have become so sentimental about Tsubasa and their unsettled pace in the first place. And since the damn fate and time were so eager to see him suffer, here he was. He succumbed to the awkwardness that held him tight before this situation.

“I think... The last time I heard someone call me by my real name was in high school.”

He heard her, and he swore that she was talking about him. Who else? There wasn’t a single person in Karasuno who called Tsubasa by her real name if it wasn’t him.

“It’s good to hear it again. Like a good reminder of the past.” Tsubasa said, smiling kindly at Udai.

He looked away, choosing to avert his eyes first. The stupid jerk that he is.

“I just slipped off…”Udai muttered, as if unwilling for Tsubasa to hear his words.

His response came in a surprisingly bright tone, “It’s okay.”

Udai met her gaze again to witness how warmly she smiled.

“Whether you just slipped off and didn’t mean to or not, I’m still happy to hear someone call me by my real name after a while.”

For the first time, Udai didn’t want to believe her words. He would have preferred if she had said that she was uncomfortable with his calling, that she was uncomfortable with anything that reminded her of the past, like how he felt about everything... but what if she was happy that it was him?

“I guess I should…” she did not finish her sentence, like she felt heavy on the part where she finally had to exclude herself. But after that, her smile quickly brightened as she got up. Her gaze returned to Udai as she said, “I’ll take this direction,” she pointed in any direction behind her back, “what about you, Udai-san?”

Udai had previously been convinced that he would rather not meet her anywhere, convinced that it was the wisest choice.

Being distracted in the middle of his work because his mind was constantly searching for her was more than enough. Plunging himself into her panel would only bloom his desire, whereas in his sense, that was the least that could happen for her sake.

His presence was a catastrophe in her life, his presence would only bring thundering rain to her summer, black clouds to her sunshine.

“I…”

He knew that he wasn’t good for Tsubasa, moreover, it was inappropriate to have his panel running alongside hers, but this time, Udai wanted to let that be.

Seeing her slowly pull away made him want to cross the line. Just this once, he didn’t want their meeting to end this fast.

Udai left his seat, catching up with Tsubasa who greeted him with a look that was still waiting for his answer.

“Udai-san?”

One last look into her eyes and Udai was sure to be greedy just this once.

“Are you free today?”

Just this once, he said. After that, he would drag himself away from this panel.

He saw Tsubasa staring in confusion, “Sorry?”

Squeezing everything that prevented him from surrendering into the magnetic pull of wanting to be around her, Udai finally said, “If you’re free, would you mind joining me for a coffee?”

.

.

.

Miyagi Prefecture, Nine Years Ago

In the early hours of the morning, as the sun started to peek out from behind the trees, Udai was already up and ready to go. He laced up his volleyball shoes, checked his knee pads, and made his way to the gymnasium for his team’s morning practice.

Hitting the court, he was in his element, exploding with energy and passion for the sport. He felt the weight of the volleyball in his palm, and as he served over the net, it seemed like all of his focus was on that little white ball. Every time it made contact with his fingertips, he felt the exhilarating rush of adrenaline that kept him going.

As the practice began to wind down, the other members of the Karasuno team slowly started filing out of the gym. Udai lingered a little longer, taking advantage of the empty space to run a few drills that he hadn't quite mastered yet.

He made a decision that would alter the course of his day.

He slipped away from the classroom, unnoticed by his classmates, and crept into the gymnasium storage room. The dusty smell of the room was familiar to him, and he lay down on an old mat in the corner. He was not tired, he just didn’t want to attend the class, because…. It wasn't that he didn’t like the class, but it was just so uninteresting to him. He’d much rather be practicing on the court for some hours more.

The storage room indeed wasn’t the most comfortable place to spend time, but it was secluded, hidden away from prying eyes.

The silence of the storage room allowed his thoughts to wander. He thought of the volleyball match that was coming up soon and the fear of losing started creeping in.

********************************************************

It was another typical day in the gymnasium as Tsubasa’s gym class was in full swing.

Their gym teacher had arranged a friendly match, pitting the students against each other, to promote teamwork and sportive spirit. As Tsubasa stood with her teammates, a bundle of nerves and trepidation coiled up inside of her. But as soon as the whistle blew, and the game began, she was surprisingly doing well in the game.

“Oi, Sasaki did a really great job right there!”

Some boys watching commented.

“She’s enjoying herself. Not bad!” The other one added.

“Way to go, Sasaki!” And the other began cheering for her.

“She’s cute, don’t you think?” Then he turned to the boy before, smiling.

“Yeah, she has some grace.” The other boy agreed.

“Right? Gonna have to try to ask for her number.” He said again, “Go, go, Sasaki! Take them down!”

Despite being a newcomer to the game, Tsubasa quickly adapted, using her intelligence and quick thinking to outmaneuver the other players.

Her shots had precision, and her passes found their mark. She moved with such grace that it was as if she had been playing this game all her life.

As she skated back and forth on the court, dodging other players and scoring goals, her classmates cheered.

The girls on the other side of the court cheered for her, “Sasaki! You’re the best!”

********************************************************

When the class finally came to an end, Tsubasa began to gather her things, ready to head back to the locker room and get ready for the next class.

As she made her way towards the gymnasium’s entrance she noticed the class representative was struggling to carry a pile of gym equipment and props, her small frame buckling under the weight of it all.

Tsubasa stood there, observing for a moment and taking in the situation at hand.

Some of her classmates were still there, they greet her when they passed her.

“Sasaki, you’re not coming?”

She turned briefly and nodded, “Go ahead. I’ll meet you in the class.”

“Okay.”

When her classmates leave, Tsubasa shifted to where she remember the class rep. was, still struggling with everything.

“Ishikawa!” She called out, approaching the girl.

The class rep. turned, “Oh? Sasaki, you’re still here?”

Tsubasa hummed. “Here, let me help.”

“Oh no—“

Tsubasa smiled. “That’s too much for you to handle, right?” She turned and looked around, “and the boys are really fast to leave… Moh… they’re really the worst!”

She casually bent down to gather some things that needed to be brought back to the storage room.

“Thank you, Sasaki.”

Tsubasa turned and smiled.

Opening the gym storage room door, the room was very dark and dusty. They had tried to turn on the lights, but they were broken. Finally, with a little light from the vents, they entered the room while being careful to put anything down lest it damage the rest of the gym equipment.

The next time they entered, Tsubasa brought with her a stack of mats that had been used in the previous gym class alone.

“Sasaki? Eh— but that’s too much for you—“

“It’s okay, Ishikawa-chan. I got this.” Tsubasa smiled and walked slowly into the storage room.

“Be careful. Really, be careful, Sasaki. It’s very dark inside.” The class rep. said worriedly.

“Alright. I’m okay.”

The class rep. was walking out anxiously while occasionally looking back at the storage room door to make sure that Tsubasa would be okay, all the while feeling guilty for involving her in her troublesome job. She wasn’t so far leaving the storage entrance that she heard a loud clattering sound from inside.

“Sasaki!”

The class rep. immediately rushed into the storage room, watching as Tsubasa sat on the floor whilst staring at another boy standing before her, along with some metal poles lying on the floor.

“Sasaki!? Are you okay?”

—

[millenialfanfictionaddiction]

Being Karasuno's Manager:

The Tiny Giant's Little Sister

Karasuno featuring Tenma Udai (tiny giant) x first year female manager

Warnings: light Kageyama x Hinata exchange Swearing

A/N: This is a request from @korrynn-nadine! Sorry if the tag didn't stick, this happens alot to me 😅

Ahh to be a High school freshman/first year again

Just kidding 😅 I hated high school

But that doesn't mean you have to hate High School YN

And I imagine going to Karasuno would be oh so exciting!

Literally, there is so many cool sports, the people seem nice and the uniforms 👌🏻

You can't tell me their uniforms aren't comfy ✋🏻 because they are

I believe Noya's uniform assessment

NE WAYS you also came to Karasuno because it was your brother's alma mater

Thanks right, your big brother is none other than....

TENMA UDAI 👏🏻 👏🏻 👏🏻 👏🏻 👏🏻 👏🏻

Aka the Tiny giant

Aka the guy Hinata looks up to 🙌🏻

Not me hinting that detail would ever be problematic/ important 👀

I would NEVER

You needed a club and bad!

In fact, you just so happened to be telling your resident bestie Yachi of your plight

"Do you know of any clubs that need a manager??"- You to Yachi

Unbeknownst to know, a certain someone heard you

Not Kiyoko sneaking behind corners scouting for managers 😫

Just kidding that's definitely Noya and Tanaka following Kiyoko as she scouts for managers

"Hey did you both say you needed a club?"- Kiyoko, our resident gorgeous third year says

You 👉🏻 yes 😍

Yachi 👉🏻 😐😳🥵 yes...

"Would you like to come check out the team with me tonight?"- Kiyoko

Kiyoko would never show this but she's definitely begging for you to say yes!

You practically leaped at the opportunity

Because you see, you might know a thing or two about volleyball 🏐

I mean your brother IS the tiny giant after all

But you, yourself are also skilled in volleyball knowledge

Our smart queen YN 🥰

At practice, you show up and get introduced to the team

Immediately Hinata gets one of this like psychic feelings

Hinata swears he knows you from somewhere but he can't place it

You know, like when he knew Shiratorizawa was outside the gym doors in season 3?

"ThErE hErE"- Hinata 😠

I get so distracted, back to business 👏🏻

So of course, he says something 😐

No chill this boy istg-

"Hey you look familiar, don't I know you?"- Hinata

You just stare 👁👄👁

"Hinata you dumbass not everyone knows you!"- Kageyama says smacking Hinata

"Chill out crappy-yama! This is why you'll never have a girlfriend! You can't even talk to girls!"- Hinata 😜

Daichi rn 👉🏻 😡

Tsukishima 👉🏻 📱

Asahi 👉🏻 panicking

"Alright Alright you idiots, break it up! Don't you know you should never fight in front of ladies!"- Tanaka

Kiyoko 👉🏻😐🙄 this is why we can't have nice things

After that strange encounter, you begin your trial as Karasuno's newest manager

Honestly, you love it!

Filling water bottles, taking notes, doing team laundry

You even manage to help the boys with practice

"Wow YN! You really know alot about volleyball!"- Hinata 🤩

"Thanks! My brother played for Karasuno years ago, so I know a few things!"- You

"Oh who was your brother YN?"- Daichi asks

You were just about to answer when Kiyoko called you to help set up chairs!

"Just a second!"- You say waving to the boys and running to help your fellow manager

I mean, knowing your brother couldn't really be THAT important right?

👆🏻 as the gif suggests, it does in fact prove to be a big deal 😅

You're bother just so happens to be home for the weekend and you tell him about how you are Karasuno's Manager

You also tell him about Hinata

Just wait until he finds out you talked him up YN ✋🏻

You're brother asks you about the team and you tell him that they are sure to go to Nationals again

"I should probably come check them out then"- Tenma says

You nod in agreement as you text Coach Ukai and Takeda to make sure it's all good

They agree, knowing your brother use to play for Karasuno

However 👀 they never made the connection that YOU were the sister of the Tiny giant

Boy are they all in for a big surprise 🤩

On Monday, you arrive at practice and set up

As the boys enter and begin to warm up, you patiently await your brother's arrival

"Hey whose that guy?"- Hinata asks as he dozens of eyes follow him to the door

Only Ukai makes the connection 😳

"Holy crap that's Tenma Udai!"- he whispers to Takeda

"Who is that?"- Takeda

"You remember Hinata's role model? Well that's him!"- Ukai

Takeda 👉🏻😱😱

But Ukai and Takeda aren't the only ones to notice something

"Wait? Didn't YN say her brother use to play for Karasuno?"- Daichi asks Suga and Asahi

They both nod 😃

"And her brother is pretty short..."- Daichi

They both nod again 😃

"Do you think?"- Daichi 👀

Again 👉🏻 nod 😃

"Guys this is my big brother Tenma Udai! He use to play for Karasuno a few years ago!"- You say

It kind of hits Kageyama all at once

Like a train 🚆

Because man's knows volleyball and he knows that name!

Only Kageyama is like frozen 😳

You just look at Kageyama, Daichi, Suga, Asahi, Takeda and Ukai who all seem to just be staring with their mouths open 😲

Leave it to Hinata to break the silence

"Wow you are short like me! What position did you play?"- He asks Tenma

"Winged spiker"- Tenma answers with a smile

"With your height?? That's so cool! So you were like the Tiny giant before me then!"- Hinata

Oh you precious idiot 😭

It's then that you realize

"Oh yeah, I don't think I ever mentioned my brother is the tiny giant"- you say, nonchalantly

Give it a minute

Just a second longer ⌚️

"Wait ✋🏻 ARE YOU SERIOUS RIGHT NOW??"- Hinata 👇🏻

"Yep that's me. Former #10"- Tenma says smiling at the ginger boy who is now just so excited

Literally you made his entire life YN 😭

Hinata is going to want to ask a million questions but we limit him to 5

The team enjoys having your brother around and the advice he gives

Hinata is star struck the entire time

Our bby is so happy rn 🤩

When Hinata and Kageyama show Tenma their quick, Tenma is shocked 😲

"Holy crap thats amazing!! I think that's higher than I could even jump!"- Tenma says

Hinata and Kageyama nearly die from the compliment

When Tenma takes his leave, he promises to come back to watch the boys when they make it to Nationals

"Don't let me down guys!"- Tenma says, waving as he takes his leave

You just stand there and wave, turning to see the faces of your team staring at you

"Yn why didn't you tell us sooner??"- Daichi scolds

"Yeah YN we could have prepared more!"- Suga follows up

You 👉🏻😃 excuse me?

Meanwhile Hinata is just standing there with the biggest smile ever

YN you made our feral child so darn happy 🥰

[the-travelling-witch]

Haikyuu!! but make it Greek Mythology

summary: do i actually need to explain this? part 1 probably

featuring: multiple characters [atsumu, osamu, suna, kita, kunimi, hinata, kageyama, kiyoko, ukai, tenma, terushima]

warnings: crack

a/n: don´t take this too seriously, this is all in good fun ♡

haikyuu!! masterlist

Atsumu as Apollo who´s sociable and loves entertaining the masses; adored by many, he has high standards and doesn´t give his time to those who don´t meet them; dedicated to his art to an almost obsessive level, always looking to improve and reinvent himself; competitive as hell

Osamu as Artemis looked as his brother and decided he doesn´t want to be like him, ever; he´s not afraid to go his own way despite what society might expect of him; not as in the eye of the public as his twin, even though he´s just as skilled (maybe even more so), competitive as hell, too

Suna as Hermes has the sitch on everyone; no embarrassing accident, gossip or campus fight (ahem ahem, the twins) is safe from him and you‘ll have to seriously bribe him not to spill the tea on you; a guy to steal sacred cattle with [a Greek mythology and German pun in one? Someone take the internet away from me]

Kita as Hestia keeps the peace in his team; doesn´t fancy himself particularly powerful yet his humility and steadiness is his strength; he places a high importance on family and togetherness and genuinely believes you can achieve more as team than on your own; overshadowed by the rest of his team but just might be the most vital member without whom everyone else would fall apart

Kunimi as Hypnos who just wants to go home and take a nap; has no energy for your bs

Hinata as Heracles who at the start of his journey didn´t get taken seriously by pretty much anyone; driven by his ambitions, he has to face numerous trials to earn his spot amongst the top but damn, does he work for it; in the end, nobody can deny his righteous place by the side of the best of the best

Kageyama as Midas whose every set he touches turns to gold; and while it might seem like a blessing at first, it manifested as a curse at one point, making him untouchable to everyone around him and eventually isolating him from his peers

Kiyoko as Helen which doesn´t need an explanation, honestly; beautiful enough to start a war over and fuel the jealousy of the goddess of beauty herself, yet there´s only one true love for her and everyone else gets shut down

Ukai as Chiron who is partly to blame for the new generation of monsters; while not all of his heroes -eh I mean players- go on to make it to the very top, you can’t deny the fruit of his labour when looking at the people he trained (and somewhat raised)

Tenma Udai (first tiny giant) as Pan created a dedicated cult and then dipped; his legacy is still inspiring others although nobody quite knows what happened to him

Terushima as Dionysus just wants to fucking party, man; if you´re not having a good time, what´s the point? 

Bonus:

Holly as Daphne who turned herself into a laurel tree running from Apollo aka her motivation to write an actual fic

[utahimeow]

our fav pathetic loser boy @hyeque :p

bf!udai is so incredibly whipped for you.

he’s never had much experience with dating. even when he was in high school, when he was the school’s volleyball ace and girls were fawning over him, when he still had an ego. he just never had the time. you’re his first taste of true feelings and he’s clueless.

he wonders how he got so lucky—him, a silly little mangaka who doesn’t get enough sleep, with you. you’re too far out of his league, he’s convinced. (you’re not. you wouldn’t have chosen him if you were).

too often you catch him staring at you, even when you’re doing something insignificant, and when you do his face turns deep red and he whips his head away, betrayed by his sheepish grin.

he’s the type to ask “do you like me? like, like like me?” and you have to remind him “tenma, we’re literally dating.”

freezes up when you kiss him out of nowhere or wrap your arms around him or grab his hand. don’t even get me started on petnames. call him your ‘sweet boy’ and he looks like he’ll pass out.

he talks about you to his friends like you put the stars in the sky (in his eyes, you did). he doesn’t care that they call him a simp. they’re right. he’s absolutely enamoured with you and why would he hide that?

tldr would recommend dating the little giant <3