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yuulina-vre · 4 years ago

Text

Gifting you a new life

Trouble

Pairing: Steve x Bucky, Reader insert

Warnings: Mild angst

word count: 2388 words

Part: Five

Summery: Y/N get’s a letter that is upsetting and bringing up some part of her life she rather forget. Steve get’s to know Bucky.

Masterlist

* * *

Y/N stands in the kitchen, envelops and newspaper in hand, sorting them. Steve’s looking through the shelves, probably hunting for some snack before Bucky will arrive in two hours or so. It’s quiet, content. A truly normal, but peaceful Saturday evening. It takes her a minute until she has sorted the envelopes for bills, Steve’s, and her own letters. Then she dins it. The envelope in her hand is yellow, not the ordinary white. The address is scribbled per hand with crooked and smeared lines. Handwritten. She can’t shake the feeling of knowing this handwriting but there’s no picture to it. She just knows that it’s familiar. And it's not the first this week. She rips it open and reads it over, stopping shortly and frowning before reading it again and again. Suddenly she feels confused, unsure, and maybe a little bit angry. It only makes her angrier the longer she reads the words, sees the handwriting and the name on the end. She makes a noise between a sigh and a grunt which makes Steve turn away from the cereals and faces her. “What are you looking at?” She startles, looks up at him, and folds the paper to shove it back in the envelope. “Just a letter from my Mom. Nothing important.” It’s a lie. The letters not from her mom or dad, not from any of her friends. But if she tells Steve who’s letter it is then he will get worried. She doesn’t want him to worry, not today. Never if possible. Especially not when he’s going to finally get to know a potential love interest, maybe even getting himself a ate and something from his dad back. Steve frowns at her and comes closer. “And that makes you sigh like you want to punch the wall and cry at the same time.” Y/N cringes a bit and quickly searches for a new excuse. “Wasn’t a really good letter.”

“Is your dad okay? He was sick, right?”

“Yeah, he’s fine. Out of hospital and refusing to rest like always.” She smiles at him and stuffs the envelope in her bag. “What are you doing here anyway? We're supposed to eat dinner in two hours.” Steve raises his eyebrows and looks at the clock on the wall. “It’s half-past four. I’m starving now and Bucky won’t be here before six.” Bucky and Steve had texted on and off yesterday after the grocery store. Steve finally able to talk to him after having met him properly. Bucky had told him when he’s going to come over and that he will bring beer for the game. Also asking a lot of questions relating to dinner, bringing something else and all that. Y/N found it endearing but slightly annoying the Steve didn’t even listen to her rambling about Tony’s plans for the next school year. “Right.” Steve shrugs at her but studies her face. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah.” She curses herself lightly. The answer was way too rushed, maybe even a bit too fast. “I mean… I – I didn’t decide on what to make for dessert, yet. And I have to call Tony because of next year’s schedule and my classes. We didn’t get everything finished yesterday.”

“Can’t it wait until Monday?”

“I- I rather have it sorted out today. I’ll be quick, I promise.” It’s not all true but true enough. He had met Tony yesterday between classes, talked to him about peter and some of her classes for the next year, and listened to his ideas. She had some lingering questions but nothing that can’t wait until Monday. She somehow feels pressured to lie to Steve, when in reality there’s no real reason to do so. “Okay.” Steve stretches the last letter, not quite believing her, his eyes falling on the letter in her hand again. It’s clear to see that Steve wants to say something else but holds himself back, probably sensing that she won’t answer him anyway. Y/N sighs and puts the letter down, looking at Steve. “I’m alright. I promise. How about, instead of filling your stomach with things that won’t do anything for your hunger, you go upstairs and find something to wear?”

“Why?”

“Are you really going to meet Bucky in your paint speckled shirt and dirty sweatpants?” She scoffs a little, looking him up and down with a frown. Steve looks down on himself. “Right, Not really… nice.”

“Not really, no.”

“Okay, okay. I’m going to shower and redress. Call me if you need help.”

“With what? I can’t really have the kitchen burning because you tried to boil water.”

“That was one time and the kitchen didn’t burn!”

“It almost did!” She laughs at Steve’s red face and watches him grumbling leave the kitchen. She looks after Steve for a moment longer before her gaze switches back to the letter on the table. “When will you finally leave me alone?” She walks into the living room and to her smartphone on the coffee table, picking it up and looking through her contact until she finds the Stark-Potts contact and pressing on the calling button. It rings a few times, time enough for Y/N to get a little lost on her thoughts. Her nerves are almost frayed with fear. She doesn’t want to think back at her relationship with Rumlow. It was one of her worst mistakes she ever made and apparently, he has not forgotten about her. He keeps popping up in her life, mostly when she believes she finally left him behind her. In her old life. As if he wants to remind her that he’s still there and still waiting for her to realize that she belongs to him and forever will.

“Stark-Potts. Here is Pepper.” Pepper's words rip her out of her memories of an old life, almost making her flinch. “Oh Pepper, here’s Y/N. Is Tony there? And right now?” Who knows which business the rich man tends to in his free time. “He has a video conference in ten minutes, when you make it wick then I can fetch him for you.”

“Please.” She nods despite Pepper not being able to see it and sits down on the couch, fussing with her free hand on one of the pillows Steve brought in a thrift shop. She hates the thing and still suspects that Steve brought it to annoy her. But he seems to genuinely like it so she allowed the ugly piece of brown fabric to stay. “Are you okay? You sound upset.” She can hear Pepper walking through their house. “He’s back, Pepper.” Her voice is dry, hoarse. Empty. “Who?”

“Brock.”

“Oh my god. Alright. I make sure you two have time talking.” Y/N nods and turns around to make sure Steve’s still upstairs and won’t catch a word of what she’s going to discuss with Tony. She doesn’t have to wait long. She hears some muffled voices, some rustling, and then there’s Tony’s voice, playful and quirky as always. “Y/N! My favorite person in the whole world, after Pepper, of course. You’re saving me from one of the most boring calls I have to witness this week.” She can practically see the grin plastered on his face and if she wouldn’t feel so bad it would infect her just right now and she would laugh or snort, send a remark back and make a joke or something. But right now, it just makes her feel sick. “Tony.” Her throat feels dry. She has the feeling that a lump has embedded itself in her windpipe, catching the air she needs and forcing it back out. The letter, still lying on the dining table seems to bore itself in her head. Would it be a person, its eyes would send glares at her, boring her with deep red and evil eyes, a devilish grin on its lips, and a mocking look all over its face. “What’s wrong? Fighting with Steve?” Y/N takes a deep breath. Her eyes gliding back to the offending piece of paper on the table in the kitchen. She can see the writing in her inner eye, doesn’t even need to look at it. It’s as if it burned the words in her brain. “Y/N? Pepper’s looking worried so I assume she knows what’s up. Do we need to come over?”

“No! No. I…” She sighs, frustrated with herself for letting a letter, or several over the past week, get herself lose control “I got a letter.”

“Okay.”

“From… him.” There’s silence for a second before she hears a sound that could be a groan, a scoff, or something entirely different. “Brock Rumlow again. I didn’t expect him to come back so soon.” Knowing that several expressions run over his face right now she sighs and falls back on the couch. Anger is probably the most dominant emotion for tony right now and she knows, if Steve knew, he would be furious right now. Not at her for hiding it but for Brock to even trying to get back in contact with her. “What do I do now?” Y/N’s voice is filled with fear and she knows it trembles. “What if he comes?”

“Does he know where you work?”

“I-I don’t know. But Tony! He knows where I live. I move d four times and he still found me. How difficult can it be to find out where I work?” Y/N shakes her head. “He never went to this house with me. If he didn’t follow me then he shouldn’t know about it and now that he does…. I don’t feel safe, Tony.”

“Does Steve know?”

“No! Dear god, Tony. I can’t tell him. He’s finally getting on his feet, even found someone to flirt with. I-I can’t bring him up. Not now.”

“Okay.” Y/N can hear Tony pace around his office. He’s mumbling some things she can understand. Then she hears him talking silently to someone. “Happy. Take Jarvis and Pietro on Monday and secure the gate. No strangers are allowed to enter coming next week. No, that’s not a joke. Students have to show their Student ID, otherwise, they won’t enter… Who? When?” Y/N starts nibbling on her lower lip and startle a little as she hears the stairs behind her creak. She turns around to see Steve enter the living room with a smile, turning to show off his beige khakis and his light blue button-up. He raises an eyebrow as if to ask if he looks better and Y/N just nods. The Steve mouths ‘Still Tony?’ And she nods again while Steve rolls his eyes and walks into the kitchen. “Y/N? You still there?” She twitches a little and stumbles over her own words. “Y-yeah. I-I’m here.”

“Do you know a brunette man with long hair and silver hand?”

“I-I don’t think so. Why?”

“There was someone in school on Thursday, asking for Steve.” A silent ‘o’ forms on her mouth, thinking of the only person that might have been asking for the blonde. Wait, he has a metal arm? “That- That could have been James Barnes. Pepper might remember him. He’s from the military. He has something from Steve’s dad.” She hears Tony asking pepper and her answering, though, she can’t really make out any words. “He was okay, Happy. Though, don’t let anyone in without informing me. I send you a picture of a man who’s not even allowed to be near the school. Make sure we don’t even catch a glimpse of him.” Steve comes back in, toast in his mouth and crackers in hand, flopping down beside her and holding the crackers up. Y/N shakes her head at the offer, watching him shrug. There’s an itch in her body to lean over, lie her head on his shoulder and cry for the rest of the day, bathing in her misery. “Okay, Y/N, Happy’s taking care of the school. Do you need something else?”

“No, I-I guess not.” There’s silence in the line for a moment before she hears Tony sigh. “Y/N. You know I would never let him near you. Not at school anyway. I will do everything I can. I can’t protect you at home but you know you can call me if somethings up, no matter how late. And you have Steve there, too. Think about telling him. It might be good to have him know. Rumlow is an asshole and Steve hates him more than I do. You should tell him because we both know he would want to know.” Y/N shakes her head with a deep breath. “Alright.” The air leaves her body and she finally leans over to Steve, resting her head on his shoulder with closed eyes. She can feel the man shift a little, draping his arm around her shoulders, planting a kiss to her temple before going back to his toast and crackers. “Pep’s getting pepper spray for you. Though, I could give her to you. She’s better than any spray available.” Y/N snorts a small smile before she shakes her head. “No, I think I’m good for the moment. Thank you, Tony.”

“No problem, but remember to tell me if somethings up. And better don’t go home alone. Let Steve drive you or something.”

“I will.” She smiles again and then says goodbye, putting the phone down in her lap and listening to Steve’s munching. She’s not sure if she will be alright, though. She really doesn’t want to see Brock again and certainly not at her workplace. She doesn’t really pay attention to what’s going on and just as Steve moves does she look over to him. He has turned a little to face her. His face is filled with concern, maybe shock, too, and his hands are hovering over her, crackers abandoned on the coffee table. “Everything good? You’re crying.” Startled she lifts her hand to her cheek, making a surprised noise. Is brock already making her that out of her mind that she doesn’t even notice when she’s crying?

“Y-yeah, don’t know why.” She laughs a little, feeling like crying even more now. “Let’s get this dinner ready, yeah?” She whips her eyes once more and lifts herself from the couch, matching into the kitchen, successfully ending the conversation and escaping any questions that would come for the moment.

Previous Part / Next Part

#Steve x Bucky #Bucky x Steve #Reader #reader insert #Yuulina writes #Steve Rogers #Bucky Barnes

15 notes · View notes

cherry-kirsch · 7 years ago

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1. a vase of daffodils : wishing on dandelions

ushihina || multi-chaptered || sfw || hanahaki au

Takeda stops halfway down the corridor, watching Ushijima as he looks at the mural. “It was their idea.” He says and Ushijima barely glances at him. “The flower mural. They said the walls were depressing.”

“Isn’t looking at flowers depressing?” He asks and Takeda gives him a small shrug.

“Some people have come to love flowers again,” Takeda says softly. “I hope you will too.”

Ushijima doubts it.

[ AO3 ]

“I didn’t know,” Was the first thing that Tendou says when he steps inside Ushijima’s hospital room.

Ushijima just gives him a soft sort of smile. “I didn’t want you to know.”

Tendou had brought red roses, and Ushijima can’t help but feel a low pang of irony as he imagines the nurses digging red roses from his lungs and pulling the petals from his flesh, but he takes them in his arms as carefully as he would hold a baby, and thanks him though he feels sick. He can almost feel the thorns making his way up his throat, scratching him raw as he coughs up petal after with droplets of his blood.

He sits on the chair beside Ushijima’s bed, his hands folded in his lap. “You should’ve told me,” he presses. “I didn’t know.”

“You didn’t need to know, and what would you have done if I told you?” Ushijima asks, placing the bouquet carefully on the bedside table. “Would you have loved me back?”

Tendou hesitates. “Not necessarily…” He says slowly, his eyes snapping to Ushijima’s. “But you’re my friend, Wakatoshi, I shouldn’t have found out through Semi that you were in hospital.”

Ushijima’s hands tighten on the sheets of the bed frustration running through his mind. If he had it his way, Tendou wouldn’t have found out at all. “Semi told you,” he says. “Well… I suppose that can’t be helped.”

“Can’t be helped? Wakatoshi, you almost died and I had to find out through someone else,” Tendou hisses, leaning back in his seat in exasperation. “You’ve loved me for years and I’ve only found out because you had surgery to remove flowers from your lungs.”

Ushijima sighs. “It doesn’t matter anymore,” he points out. “I don’t have feelings for you. We can just move on.” Where he once felt his fingers curling and warmth spread from his chest upon seeing or speaking of Tendou, he now felt nothing more than platonic love; a side-effect of the surgery.

Tendou just sighs and nods, tapping his foot on the floor as the room grows deathly silent. He looks back to Ushijima. “What kind of flowers were they?” he asks, and Ushijima tilts his head in question. “The ones that grew inside you?”

“Roses,” Ushijima tells him shortly, meeting his eye. “Red roses.”

Tendou nods again and Ushijima moves his eyes away from his body to look outside the window. The sky an azure blue and dotted with white cotton clouds, it was a day almost too perfect to be stuck inside— but Ushijima would suffer it if it meant the roses got far away from him. It was then that Tendou stood up, the chair legs scraping loudly across the linoleum and Ushijima’s gaze snaps back to Tendou.

“I wanted to come in and check on you,” Tendou says as he shoves his hands into his pockets. “That’s all.”

The air hangs awkward and uncomfortable between them, but Ushijima nods regardless. “Thank you for coming.”

“I wanted to,” Tendou tells him before he turns and strides towards the door, stopping just outside it before he turns back to Ushijima with a small smile cracking his lips. “You don’t need to be so formal, old man.”

Once Tendou leaves, the room feels odd, and Ushijima takes the opportunity to grab the scissors from his bedside table and cut all the heads off the roses one by one, watching them fall into a pile on his lap until he’s left with blooms and stems. He throws the stems into the trash and eases himself out of bed, struggling a moment with the catch of the window before he throws the flowers out and into the courtyard below him, where they scatter across the ground like blood.

He feels a lot better for doing it.

“Name?”

Ushijima snaps himself from where he was staring blankly at the woman in front of him, lost in his own thoughts. She’s peering at him with a perfectly sculpted eye brown raised, her acrylic nails hovering gently over her keyboard, and he notices that a lollypop stick hangs from her lips.

“Oh,” he says. “Ushijima Wakatoshi.”

The woman nods and types his name into the server, and, while she waits for the data base to load she drums her nails on her desk. Once the computer lets out a small noise, she’s back to scrolling through the list of names that have popped up, clicking back and forth until she finds what she’s looking for.

“Ushijima Wakatoshi,” she repeats. “Recently undergone surgery for Hanahaki disease and was recommended… one-week in-patient on the ward?” She asks him, leans on her hand as she peers up at him.

Ushijima clears his throat and nods. “Yes.”

The woman nods right back. “Okay, good, Takeda is waiting for you in the evaluation room there,” she gestures towards the wooden door with her thumb. “He’ll run you through the ward rules and what not, and how evaluation and counselling goes. Then he’ll show you around.”

Ushijima nods and bows. “Thank you.” He says.

The woman smiles at him. “I’m one of the regular receptionists; you’ll have to talk to me if you want the card for the phone over there.” She points behind his shoulder. “My name is Saeko. Just ask if you need me.”

“I will,” he says, and then he hesitates. She raises an eyebrow. “Uh… can I have a lollipop?” Saeko laughs and passes a cherry flavoured lollipop under the glass divider with a wink, Ushijima thanks her once more, unwraps it and pops it into his mouth before he drops the wrapper into the trash and heads through the door to meet Doctor Takeda.

Takeda is a short man, he only comes up to Ushijima’s shoulder, and his rather sunny disposition matches his smile and fluffy black hair. He wears a colourful sweater and has his ID badge around his neck, and he smiles and jumps up to shake Ushijima’s hand when he closes the door behind him.

“You must be Ushijima!” he says, giving Ushijima’s hand a firm shake before he drops it and gestures him to sit. “I hate to get all serious suddenly but I do have to do a quick evaluation of your condition, is that alright?”

Ushijima nods shortly and wrings his hands together. “Yes.”

Takeda flashes him a grin and takes a seat behind his desk. “Okay! Now I’m going to ask you a series of questions and I’d like you to answer as honestly as you can.”

“Okay.” Ushijima says.

Takeda nods and turns to his computer, clicking a couple of times before he settles on something he wants; to Ushijima’s dismay, the screen is tinted so he can’t see. “How was your surgery, and how would you compare before the surgery and after the surgery?”

Ushijima thinks a moment, his mouth suddenly feeling very dry. “My surgery went well; I don’t have any feelings for the person I fell in love with anymore. I think it was successful.” Takeda nods and picks up a pen, starting to scribble on a piece of paper in front of him. “As for a comparison… I don’t feel like I’m drowning anymore. I don’t feel… suffocated.”

Takeda nods and gives him a comforting smile. “That’s good.” He turns back to his computer. “What kinds of flowers were they? Was there more than one kind?”

“They were red roses,” Ushijima tells him. “And there were just the roses. No other flowers.”

“Your case was mild then,” Takeda said with a small nod. “If it was any more severe you probably wouldn’t have gotten as long as you did before you had to have surgery.”

Ushijima nods feebly and offers Takeda a wobbly smile. “I’m glad then. That my case wasn’t that severe.”

“I am too.” Takeda tells him, and, for some reason, Ushijima believes him. “Did you refer yourself for surgery, or was your case an emergency?”

Ushijima frowns. “Shouldn’t that be in my records?” he asks and Takeda shrugs.

“It is,” he says. “But I’d rather you told me.” For a moment, Ushijima hesitates, unsure before he sticks the lollipop back in his mouth and shakes his head, Takeda gives him a small smile. “It’s okay if you don’t want to say; can I just write down what’s on your records?”

Ushijima nods and clears his throat. “Yes.”

Takeda nods and scribbles something down. “Okay,” he says, and when he looks back up again, he looks directly at Ushijima. “Now, have you had any symptoms since your surgery?”

“I’ve been feeling tired more recently, I’ve lost my appetite.” Ushijima replies, thinking for a moment. “I’ve not really wanted to go outside. I hate flowers, though, that was what it was like before. I think I might be a little depressed.” He says and it feels like a giant weight is being lifted off his chest as Takeda nods in understanding.

“That can happen sometimes,” Takeda says, leaning back in his seat a little. “After being in love with someone for however long, it’s… jarring and shocking to have those feelings gone so suddenly. Some people may feel lost, some depressed, it differs.” He smiles at Ushijima. “I’m glad you were able to tell me.”

Ushijima manages his first, genuine smile. “I’m glad I told you.”

Takeda turned back to Ushijima’s file on his computer. “One-week in-patient should be enough, and I don’t see any reason to keep you longer.” He clicked on a few things and then turned back to Ushijima. “I’ll lead you into the ward and have the resident nurse assign you someone to guide you your first couple of days. Sound good?”

“Yeah,” he nods.

Takeda gestures to his lollipop as they stand up. “I see you’ve met Saeko.” He says as he holds the door open for Ushijima to pass through. “She’s a great receptionist and good for a chat. I think she has a brother a year or so younger than you.”

“She’s very nice,” Ushijima says, and Takeda chuckles. “I don’t know her very well yet.”

“I’m sure you’ll get to know her well.” He assures him as he leads Ushijima through double doors after swiping his pass over the scanner.

The walls, a dry white, have been painted over with what Ushijima assumes is colourful acrylics in a mural of brilliant flowers; he scans across the mural, searching for buds of blood red and leaves of emerald green, but finds nothing. Something which makes his shoulders relax. The flowers that he does see range from ornate lilies to poppies to daisies to orchids, and for a moment Ushijima wonders what it might have been like to cough them up.

“Isn’t looking at flowers depressing?” He asks and Takeda gives him a small shrug.

“Some people have come to love flowers again,” Takeda says softly. “I hope you will too.”

Ushijima doubts it.

He allows Takeda to lead him to the next office down and he sits while Takeda talks with the nurse on reception and hands over Ushijima’s file. She takes a quick glance through it and then says something to Takeda and disappears out of a side door. Ushijima rests his head against the wall behind him and clutches the strap of his backpack a little bit tighter as he squeezes his eyes shut, when he opens them again Takeda is gone and a boy is peering over him— his noise almost touching Ushijima’s.

He blinks.

“Hello,” Ushijima says and the boy sighs and flicks his hair from his eyes.

He pouts. “Boo you’re boring.” He says and Ushijima frowns. “You’re the new guy, right? I wouldn’t expect someone like you to have Hanahaki.”

“Yeah, I’m the new guy,” Ushijima says shortly. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

The boy waves a hand dismissively. “Nothing,” he says with a small click of his tongue, before he grins and holds his hand out. “I’m Oikawa Tooru. Who are you?”

Ushijima takes Tooru’s hand and squeezes firmly before letting go. “Ushijima Wakatoshi.”

“Well, Ushiwaka, I’m going to show you around,” Tooru says with a small grin, and Ushijima notices that he’s wearing sparkly lip gloss. “Try to keep up. It’s a big ward.”

Before Ushijima can reply – or protest to his new nickname – Tooru has already taken off down the corridor and left him in the dust. Quickly, Ushijima slings his backpack over his shoulder and dashes down the corridor, catching up to Tooru just as they enter the common room and he starts speaking; almost smacking Ushijima in the face with his sweeping hand gestures.

“This is the common room, where we bitch about the ones who put us here and how shitty our lives are,” Tooru began, a small grin on his face, and Ushijima shrinks behind him slightly at noticing the eyes on them. “Oh, don’t be shy, Ushiwaka! They don’t bite!”

A man with black hair grins as they walk past. “Oh, but I might!” He says, and when he grins he flashes a mouth of feline teeth.

“Kuroo Tetsuro,” Tooru introduces with a slight frown. “Kenma’s insufferable boyfriend.” Kuroo doesn’t offer a hand but instead gives Ushijima a small wave. “I’m sure you’ll be seeing him around though we all don’t want him here.”

Kuroo punches Tooru on the shoulder. “Kenma does.”

“Where is the Pudding Head anyway?” Tooru asks, peering around the room and even behind the sofa in his search. “I thought he got a new game recently, I’d expected him to be in the common room until lights out.”

Kuroo shrugs and begins to scroll through his phone. “He’s showing the Chibi and they probably got side-tracked.”

Tooru pouts and pretends to care, patting Kuroo on the shoulder of his leather jacket. “How does it feel being third-wheeled in your own relationship?”

Kuroo swatted his hand away. “How does it feel being sidled with the Newbies?”

“Oh,” Tooru grins and clutches Ushijima’s arm with his hands, pressing his body close to Ushijima’s. “This one feels great thanks for asking!”

“Gross,” Kuroo remarks with a wrinkle of his nose as Ushijima escapes his vice-like grip, he then turns to Ushijima and gives him a serious look. “Beware of Tooru. He’ll jump you.”

Tooru just rolls his eyes and begins to push Ushijima towards the other side of the room. “Don’t listen to him, he’s delusional.” He tells Ushijima and he can only nod and follow Tooru through a glass door before Tooru stops and turns to him with a raised eyebrow. “You don’t speak much do you?”

Ushijima shrugs. “Not really.”

Tooru grins, his eyes sparkling. “Oh, we’re going to get along wonderfully. I love talking.”

“I can tell,” Ushijima says. “Where to next?”

“Courtyard!” Tooru chirps happily as he leads Ushijima through a fire door and out into an enclosed courtyard that looks like something from The Secret Garden. Tooru sweeps his hand around. “The courtyard is in the direct middle of the ward! We come out here for lunch, just to talk, or if it’s sunny. North is the common room, the office. East and West are the rooms. South is the dining area, library and where we do art therapy.”

Ushijima nods and looks around. “Where’s my room?” He asks, and Tooru grins.

“In time, Ushiwaka!” He announces as he turns West and heads for the door. “I want to introduce you to Suga first! And it just so happens that you’re close by each other!” Ushijima shrugs and follows Tooru up the corridor until he stops outside a door labelled ‘Sugawara Koushi’ and knocks twice.

“One minute!” A voice comes from inside and Tooru tuts.

“You better not be naked, Suga! You’re not allowed Dai in your room!” He chirps and Ushijima can hear a groan from inside before the door is thrown open and a rather frazzled looking, ashy-haired man is standing in front of him with a smile.

Behind him, a dark-haired male is trying to redo his belt. Tooru notices this and snickers behind his hand. “Naughty, Suga!” he remarks teasingly and Suga only smiles and looks to Ushijima.

“Who’s this?” Suga asks and Tooru grins again.

“Ushiwaka,” Tooru says before he takes a firm grip of Ushijima’s arm. “Look! Isn’t he just… a prime specimen of volleyball fitness?” He asks with a small sigh of adoration and Suga laughs and tuts at him, batting Tooru’s hand off Ushijima’s bicep.

“I doubt Ushiwaka is his name, Tooru,” Suga says before he turns to Ushijima. “What’s your name?” he asks.

Ushijima offers him a nod of his head. “Ushijima Wakatoshi.” He says.

Suga nods and then peers at him a little closer. “Is Tooru right?” he asks and Ushijima blinks.

“Huh?”

“Volleyball,” Suga reiterates. “Do you play volleyball?”

Ushijima considers this. “I used to. I had to take time off for the surgery and for this… I’ve missed the tournaments probably.” He tells Suga and he tries his best not to feel disappointed.

Suga just smiles at him. “Not to worry, I’ve missed the tournament too.” He says.

“You play?” Ushijima asks and Suga laughs.

“I used to.” He replies easily, and Ushijima smiles.

Tooru groans and pouts. “Boo! You’ve only known Ushiwaka for two minutes and you’re already best friends! What about me, Suga?~” He clutches on to the front of Suga’s hoodie. “Is it because he’s so mysterious and brooding? Don’t tell Dai, he’ll get jealous.”

As if summoned by his name, Suga’s boyfriend pops up behind him. “Why would I be jealous?”

“Because Ushiwaka is taller, broodier, and cuter than you, Daichi!” Tooru bemoans and Suga just rolls his eyes and pecks Daichi on his cheek.

“In your opinion,” Suga says.

Tooru sighs gently and shakes his head. “In everyone’s opinion, sweetie.”

Suga smiles. “Not mine!” He turns to Ushijima. “We watch volleyball every evening after dinner, you should join us some time. And I think we have a net if you ever wanted to play…”

Tooru groans again. “Stop talking about sport, Suga! We don’t speak of it here!”

Suga rolls his eyes at Tooru and pats his head gently before he turns to Ushijima to offer an explanation. “Tooru refuses to watch volleyball with us because he doesn’t want to remember how he can’t play because of how his stitching ripped the last time.”

Tooru moans and puts his head in his hands. “Suuuuga!”

Suga laughs and puts his hands up in mock surrender, grinning conspiratorially at Ushijima. “Sorry, Tooru!” He nods down the hallway. “Why don’t you show Ushijima to his room, we’ll introduce him to the group at dinner,” he turns to Ushijima. “Sound good.”

Ushijima nods and tightens his grip on his bag strap. “Yeah.”

Suga grins and pats his shoulder. “Good,” he says, already edging back into his room. “I’ll see you then.”

Tooru rolls his eyes and grabs Ushijima by his arms, already tugging him down the hallway. “Try not to lose any underwear in there!” he calls and Suga replies by throwing a bouncy ball at him before slamming the door shut. Tooru looks at Ushijima and sighs. “He’s so temperamental…”

Ushijima eyes Tooru. “I can tell.”

Tooru stops in front door with a blank label and opens it for Ushijima, gesturing him inside. “Well, this is your room. Try not to get lost in it.” He begins backing away, giving Ushijima a wave that’s just a wiggle of his fingers, the other hand tucked behind his back. “Feel free to explore after you’ve unpacked, and one of us will come find you for dinner. Later!”

Tooru turns and takes off running before Ushijima could even think about replying. Regardless, he shrugs and enters his room, closing the door behind him. It has drab white walls and a thick pair of blue blackout curtains; the bed resembles something alike to one you would find at a hospital, and the room is fitted with a large wardrobe, a bedside table, a small desk and chair, and a small bathroom through an attached door.

Ushijima drops his bag onto the floor, bends down and pulls out the small amount of clothes he brought with him. He folds his jeans neatly and places his t-shirts on them in the wardrobe, he hangs up his hoodie and the jacket he was wearing, places his books on his bedside table beside the lamp and alarm clock and places his toiletries in the bathroom.

He opens his door to go on a wander, before he is stopped by a person leaning against his doorframe. He’s vaguely owlish, with grey and black spikey hair and wide eyes, not to mention a large grin.

“Ohoho,” The guy says and Ushijima imagines an owl standing across from him. He shakes his head to clear the image from his mind. “You must be the new guy, right? Tooru won’t stop chattering about you to Kiyoko and Akaashi.” He looks Ushijima up and down. “I don’t get it.”

“Huh?” Ushijima asks and the man’s grin widens.

“He said you were attractive and built like Superman,” The man explains with a dismissive gesture. “I don’t get it. I mean, sure you’re tall and have broad shoulders, but if anyone’s Superman here, it’s me.”

Ushijima looks at him. “Who are you?” he asks.

“Bokuto Koutarou!” The man says, grinning wildly as he gestures to himself, doing a rather extravagant superhero pose. “Local Superman, at your service.”

“Okay,” Ushijima says, pushing past Bokuto to step into the corridor, allowing his door to click shut behind him. “I’m going on a walk.” He says, bowing to Bokuto once before he turns and heads in the opposite direction. Bokuto stops him by darting under his arm and spreading his arms wide in front of him, preventing him from slipping past on either side.

“Whoa, what’s the rush?” Bokuto asks. “Come on, lets hang out? Talk about our feelings and shit like that.”

Ushijima shoves his hands into his hoodie pockets. “I would rather not.”

Bokuto grins even wider, if possible. “Good! Because same.”

“But you just said—” Ushijima points out, his brow creasing, but Bokuto cuts him off with a wave of his hand.

“Ushijima, Ushijima…” Bokuto says and Ushijima guesses he must’ve picked up his name from hearing Tooru talk about him. “Let’s not stress bout all of that; you should come play Portal with us. It’ll be fun.”

Ushijima eyes the way Bokuto shoves his hands into his pockets. “Puzzle games are frustrating.” He says. “Also, I don’t play video games.”

Bokuto’s eyes bug out of his head. “What do you do for fun then?” he asks.

“I play volleyball,” Ushijima says before he takes a moment to think. “And I watch TV.”

Bokuto smiles and begins to push Ushijima in the direction of the common room. “In that case you can come and watch me and Kuroo play Portal. It’ll be fun.” He says enthusiastically before he pouts and blinks owlishly up at Ushijima. “Please?”

Ushijima groans and pushes Bokuto’s face away from his. “Fine, but only as long as you stop,” Ushijima wordlessly gestures to Bokuto. “That.”

Bokuto grins and begins to tug Ushijima down the hallway. “Deal!” He chirps.

And, before Ushijima knows it, he’s being shoved into an armchair and forced to watch Bokuto and Kuroo yell over a frustration puzzle game. Resigned to his fate, Ushijima just sighs and settles back into his chair, crossing his arms firmly across his chest; that is, until something that feels like hair tickles his cheek. He frowns and brushes it away, tugging on it slightly while thinking that he’d better get his haircut, only for someone to yelp and wiggle away. Ushijima turns to meet the face of a youthful looking boy with rather alarming orange hair, and he grins as Ushijima stares blankly at him.

“If you wanted my attention you could’ve just asked.” He remarks lightly, chuckling as Ushijima continues to stare at him. “How far have they gotten in the game?” he asks.

Ushijima shrugs. “I haven’t really been paying attention.”

The boy perches on the seat of Ushijima’s armchair, and lifts his feet, only to look for Ushijima’s approval. Nervously, he nods and the boy places his feet gently on Ushijima’s thighs, so light the touch is barely even there, and leans over him to nudge Kuroo.

“Hey,” he says and Kuroo’s eyes dart to his. “How far have you gotten?”

Kuroo shrugs and tosses the controller to the boy. “Why don’t you figure it out.” He says with a feline grin as he stands, causing the boy to frown, pout and smack him lightly when he walks past. “I’m going to see Kenma.”

As Kuroo stands, so does Bokuto, discarding the controller on the sofa cushion he was previously sitting on. “Then I’m gonna see Akaashi.” He says, speeding out of the room before the boy or Kuroo can say anything.

The boy, now firmly fixed on the game in front of him, hardly casts Kuroo a glance. “He’s playing his game; you distract him, you die. Painfully.” He says and Ushijima thinks that’s very extreme. “Later.” The boy drawls as Kuroo strolls out of the room.

Then, with just the boy and Ushijima alone, the boy pauses the video game and turns to Ushijima, eyeing him carefully.

“Are you the new guy Tooru won’t stop talking about?” He asks curiously. “Ushi… something-or-other. Ushiwaka was it?” He asks again and Ushijima shrinks a little in his seat.

“Ushijima,” Ushijima corrects. “Ushijima Wakatoshi.”

The boy grins. “I can see why Tooru likes you,” he comments, fiddling idly with the joysticks of the controller in his lap. “You don’t talk much. But when you do, it’s blunt and to the point. You are Tooru are quite similar, when you think about it.”

Ushijima does, and shivers in disgust. “No way.” He says. “We’re the least bit similar.”

The boy chuckles at that. “In any case, he’s trying to flirt with you.”

“I thought that much was obvious,” Ushijima says, remembering the way Tooru replied to Kuroo and the numerous amount of times he grabbed his arm. “Painfully so.”

The boy nods. “I know. But it’s hard to tell with Tooru; he flirted with me too, when I first arrived. He does it to everyone, I guess it’s his way of being friendly, y’know?” Ushijima doesn’t but nods anyway. “I just can’t tell if he’s serious about you or not.”

Ushijima sighs a little. “I hope he’s not.” He says and the boy smiles mischievously, peering at him curiously.

“Why?” he asks. “Do you have a girlfriend on the outside? A boyfriend? A general significant other?”

Ushijima raises an eyebrow. “For such a small man you ask a lot of big questions.” He says and the boy glares slightly, his eyes narrowing and his cheeks puffing up like a chipmunk.

“I’m not small!” he says, turning away with his arms crossed over his chest. “I’ve just… not hit my growth-spurt yet is all…”

Ushijima pretends to nod sagely. “Ah,” he says slowly. “I see.”

The boy turns back to him, his pout slowly softening. “Well?” He asks and when Ushijima just looks blankly at him he sighs and waves his hand dismissively. “Never mind.”

Ushijima decides not to press it and looks back up at the boy. “What’s your name?” he asks. “Since you didn’t give it to me before.”

“Hinata Shouyou,” He says with a smile that flashes his doll-like teeth. “I like volleyball, video games and tokusatsu. I hope we can be friends!” Shouyou bows, knocks his head against Ushijima and pulls back wincing, clutching the crown of his head as Ushijima does the same. “Ow…” He mutters, and Ushijima has to catch him when he about topples off the arm of the armchair from leaning back too far.

Ushijima tightens his grip on Hinata’s wrists and pulls him up. “Careful,” he says. “We wouldn’t want you getting injured further.”

Shouyou blinks at him. “No,” he says, uncharacteristically quiet from the man Ushijima had been talking to only moments before. “I guess not.”

Ushijima stares at him a moment, meeting Shouyou’s gaze until both of their sets of eyes travel to where Ushijima still has a grip on his wrists. In a hurry, Ushijima drops them like they’re burning hot coal, and looks away, shoving his own hands back in his pockets and Shouyou does the same.

After a moment, Ushijima dares to look back, watching Shouyou for a moment as he rubs his hands together. “You…” Ushijima begins, feeling a sudden nervousness when Shouyou’s eyes meet his once more. He clears his throat. “You said you like tokusatsu? I like Kamen Rider.” He says.

Shouyou grins at him so brightly Ushijima thinks that it rivals the sun. “I like Garo! And Kamen Rider! What’s your favourite series? Mine’s Wizard because the suits looks so cool and they have awesome fights, y’know? Like ‘bwah’,” Shouyou mimes firing a gun. “And ‘gwah’,” He does an explosion gesture with his hands. “And ‘hiyah’,” He kicks his leg out and looks back to Ushijima, his eyes sparkling. “But my second favourite has to be Ex-Aid because they’re all based on video games!”

“I… My favourite is Ghost and Kabuto…” Ushijima says, and Shouyou peers at him more intently. “Because… the fights are… like… ‘bwah’… and… ‘gwah’. Also, I like the suit design.” He finishes nervously, and Shouyou beams at him. “I’ve never seen Garo.”

“I’ve not seen Kabuto! Let’s do a trade; I’ll show you Garo and you’ll show me Kabuto,” Shouyou stick his pinkie finger out to Ushijima. “Deal?”

Ushijima stares at Shouyou’s pinkie for a moment before he carefully interlocks it with his own. “Deal.” He manages.

“Now that we’ve made a pinkie-promise, you can’t go back on it, okay?” Shouyou says.

And he says it so seriously it makes Ushijima want to smile—as for the promise, he didn’t think he could break it even if he wanted to.

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