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Two hours after landing in Boston, Nishinoya has broken a wheel on his suitcase, momentarily lost Suga in the airport and panicked for ten minutes before finding him petting a dog, and almost gotten on the wrong shuttle bus twice before someone asked if he needed directions.
And on top of it all, his soul mark hasn’t stopped tingling since the plane touched down.
So, yes, his American exchange program is off to a roaring start.
It’s not until they’ve hopped in an Uber that Nishinoya finally gets a second to breathe. Suga is already on his phone, probably texting Daichi that they’ve made it safely; Noya pushes the sleeve of his jacket up, peering at the coordinates printed on his left forearm, the inky black stark against his skin.
42°20'59.3"N
71°06'25.7"W
Noya’s had the soul mark since he was born; the numbers tell him the exact place he’ll meet his soulmate. And once they’ve met, both of their marks will begin to fade. Suga’s has already begun to lighten, a process that began when he met Daichi on the first day of high school five years ago. And then there are pairs like Oikawa and Iwaizumi, whose soul marks are already close to nonexistent since they’ve known each other for so long.
A lot of factors led Noya to choose Boston for his study abroad, but the most prevalent one may have been the proximity to his soul coordinates. Maybe.
That, and Norcross University has a good sports medicine program.
Suga invited himself along once he heard about Noya’s plan. “You’re not having all the fun in America without me!” he’d declared, when he returned from his advisor’s office with a study abroad brochure. So here they both were, in the back of a Toyota sedan with a very talkative driver who introduces himself as Marty.
“You kids in school?” he’s asking, glancing at Nishinoya in the rearview mirror.
“Yeah! We’re here for six months!” Noya tells him.
“Oh, really? That’s pretty cool. Which school?”
“Norcross University.”
Marty nods. “That’s a good school. What are you in school for?”
“Sports medicine, and he’s international relations.” Noya jabs a thumb at Suga, who’s still typing intently. Up ahead, he can see the Boston skyline in the distance on the other side of the water. His first impression is that it’s sort of…unimpressive overall. There are a few prominent skyscrapers, yes, but the buildings overall are much shorter than in Tokyo, and they’re all the same dull blueish-gray. Noya wonders what it looks like at night.
Suga yawns, finally putting down his phone and resting his head against the window. “I could go right to sleep,” he mumbles.
“Where’d you come from? China?”
“Japan,” Suga corrects the driver gently, covering another yawn.
“That’s a long flight.”
Noya makes a little noise of agreement. The flight itself wasn’t too bad—he kept himself occupied with games and naps and in-flight movies—but the time difference would throw him off for the next week, he knew. The flight had taken off at four in the afternoon and now it was six in the evening, on the same day. If he could just make it another few hours, he could crash into bed and hope his body acclimates to the time change quickly.
The car drives into a tunnel, lined with garish yellow lights that flash by in a blur as Marty speeds through. The radio crackles as it loses signal, the pop song currently playing fizzing out. Thank god. The singer sounded annoying, anyway. Noya leans his head against the window and lets his eyes flutter shut. Surely he can rest, just a bit; it shouldn’t throw off his sleep schedule too badly.
When he opens his eyes next, Suga’s shaking him awake and Marty’s turning down a wide street lined with brick and concrete buildings and cheap eateries.
“Here you are. Norcross University,” Marty announces as the car comes to a stop. “Have a good semester, kids.”
“Thanks.” Noya drags the suitcases out of the trunk and stares up at the three-story building. The weathered plaque outside the door reads:
Norcross University
Haddon Hall
est. 1874
In memory of William and George Haddon
So. They’re here. Noya pushes the door open, Suga right behind him, and they’re immediately greeted by a kind-looking woman in a white blouse. “And you two must be our international students!” she exclaims, standing up from behind the front desk. “I’m Alisa Haiba. It’s so nice to have you here!”
“It’s very to meet you! Thank you for hosting us. We’re happy to be here,” Suga chirps, forcing some energy into his voice as he bows slightly.
“You kids are probably tired from the flight, so we’ll get you to your dorms as soon as possible. Take these,” she says, handing each of them a thick folder. Noya opens it, flipping through maps and brochures and stapled packets. “Those folders contain everything you’ll need to know to adjust to life in Boston and at Norcross! I have extras of everything if you lose them, so don’t worry. For now, I’ll walk you over to your building. Ready to go?”
Noya gives her a thumbs-up. “Ready!”
There’s really not much of a defined campus, Nishinoya notices as they leave the building and step onto the sidewalk. Rather than clusters of buildings surrounded by a fence, like he’d imagined, the college’s brick buildings are scattered along the main road. They’re marked by plaques and banners, but otherwise they blend seamlessly into the street.
Suga has the map out as they follow Alisa, looking around every once in a while, like he’s trying to commit the places to memory. “Ms. Haiba, how big is this campus?”
“We run a mile down this street, and we also have buildings on some side streets nor far from here,” she tells him as they stop in front of a tall, rectangular building. “It’ll only take you about fifteen or twenty minutes to walk from one end to the other, so it’s not too spread-out. So you’ll be here, in Shimada House, which is our home for international students.”
Behind the front desk is a bald guy who’s got his phone out and feet up on the desk. “Tanaka!” Alisa calls.
The kid—Tanaka—startles, almost falling off the chair in his haste to put his feet back on the floor. “Hey! Sorry! I’m paying attention, I swear! No one’s come in!”
“I’m sure.” Alisa laughs. “This is Sugawara and Nishinoya. They’re the new students moving into 523. Can you tap them in, please?”
“You got it!” Tanaka leans over the low desk to tap his student ID to the sensor. Noya grins. He likes this guy already.
“Wait, do we get IDs too?” Suga asks.
“Your RA will take you to the student center tomorrow to have yours made. We thought you’d want to get in and get settled as soon as possible.” Alisa waves at them with both hands. “Go on up to the fifth floor and turn right when you leave the elevators. Your room will be on the left, and if you have any questions, see your RA. He’s in room 501. See you tomorrow!”
And with that, she steps back outside, leaving Noya and Suga with Tanaka, who immediately puts his feet back up on the desk once she’s gone. “Yo, so you guys are the exchange kids from Japan? That’s sick! How long are you here for?”
“Hell yeah we are! Until the end of December,” Noya says. “You’re a student?”
“Mhm! Business major,” Tanaka tells him. “Your RA is Ennoshita. He’s super chill and he knows all the good places to eat. You’ll like him.”
Suga yawns again and pokes Noya in the shoulder. “I want to go to bed,” he drawls.
“Yeah, I guess we should get going. See ya, Tanaka!” Nishinoya grabs his bags and heads to the elevators, suppressing a yawn of his own. Damn, he hates how contagious yawns are. The elevator is dim and moves slowly—great, he can just imagine how crowded these four must be when everyone’s trying to get to class all at once—but it doesn’t make any ominous creaking noises, at least, so there’s that. It emits a soft ding when they reach the fifth floor, and the two of them drag their bags down the hall toward their room. It’s unlocked, the door ajar, with a set of keys dangling from the handle. Suga takes the keyring and heads inside.
Each side of the room is a mirror image of the other—a bed, a desk, some shelves, a dresser. One of the desks has another set of keys on it.
“Pick whichever side you way. I don’t mind,” Suga tells him. He goes for the left side, which leaves Suga with the right.
“Fuck, we have to buy sheets,” Nishinoya mutters as he collapses on the bare mattress. It’s weird and stiff and rubbery and he wishes he had his familiar futon right about now. He also has no idea where the bathroom is—back at school in Tokyo, he shared a bathroom with one other guy, but there’s no bathroom door visible here. “And pillows.”
“Tomorrow?” Suga says from where he’s sprawled out on his own bed, head resting on his backpack. “We can”—he yawns—“do all that tomorrow.”
Noya balls up his hoodie and sticks it under his head for a pillow and looks at his phone. It’s only half past seven, but they’re both exhausted. He gives up on trying to follow the ‘stay awake until ten at night’ advice from the internet and conks out with the light on, Suga’s soft snores the last thing he hears.
The morning light leaks into the room before he knows it, waking him up with a mighty yawn. He reaches for his phone, only to find it’s out of battery. Fuck, he forgot to charge it last night. Five feet away from him, Suga is already awake, sitting up against the wall scrolling through his phone.
“What time is it?” Noya asks, dragging his backpack closer to him and rummaging through the side pocket for his own charger.
“Six in the morning.” Suga puts his phone down and looks out the window with a laugh. “I can’t remember the last time I was up before you.”
“Jet lag is a special case.” Once Nishinoya has his phone plugged in, messages pop up almost instantly. Most of them are questions from Bokuto, and the last two are Oikawa asking him to bring back some skincare product that isn’t sold in Japan. “How’s Daichi?”
“Ah, he’s okay. The time difference is going to be rough,” Suga says with a wry twist of his lips, absently running a finger over his soul mark. “But it’s only six months. It’s not too bad.”
They’re a strong couple; Noya has no doubt they’ll be just fine. He rolls over, looking at his own soul mark again, which still hasn’t stopped tingling since the plane landed. It’s a dull sensation, but not uncomfortable, a warmth under his skin that’s noticeable but not distracting. Is today too soon to try to find the place? He wonders if he’ll even have time.
Suga puts his phone on the desk and starts unzipping his suitcase. “Well, since we can’t go anywhere until we get our IDs, I’m going to unpack.”
Noya rolls over, too tired to even think about arranging his stuff in his room. But he can’t quite fall asleep either, so he just lies in bed with his head smushed against his hoodie, half-paying attention as Suga meticulously gets his side of the room in order. He dozes off in between Suga organizing his drawers and arranging his books on the shelf. Neither of them had brought much in the way of desk supplies, not wanting to waste valuable space in their suitcases.
When he wakes up next, Suga’s putting a Polaroid of him and Daichi on the corkboard above his desk with a smile. “And that should do it,” Suga says softly to himself.
Three things happen at once just then. The corkboard comes crashing down, Noya rolls off his bed and bangs his head on the bedpost, and there’s a knock at the door.
“Good morning! This is Ennoshita and I’m your RA! I’m not sure if you guys are awake yet, but—”
Suga yanks the door open with a smile. “Hi!”
The RA at the door is a little taller than Suga, with a relaxed smile and tired-looking eyes. His black hair is styled in a neat fringe and he’s carrying a clipboard. “Oh! You’re up!”
“Good morning!” Noya yells from his spot on the floor, rubbing at his temple.
Ennoshita’s recovery is quick, Noya has to give him that. “I’m glad to see you’re settling in! I thought I could take you to the office and get your IDs sorted out, then to the registrar to make sure your schedules are correct, and then take you on a quick tour of the campus?”
Nishinoya’s still in his clothes from yesterday, but he gives Ennoshita a thumbs-up. “You got it!”
“Give us a few minutes? We should probably change,” Suga says with a smile, not-so-subtly shooing Ennoshita out the door. “Where’s the bathroom?”
“Oh! Nobody told you?” Ennoshita points down the hall. “This way, on the left. It’s shared with the floor.”
Noya doesn’t bother to hide his surprise at that. And neither does Suga, apparently, because Ennoshita just laughs.
“You’re not the first people to be surprised by that! We get a lot of international students who aren’t used to that setup,” Ennoshita explains with a smile. “Should I give you fifteen minutes to deal with that?”
Nishinoya plants his hands on his hips. “We’ll be ready!”
Once Noya’s fussed with his hair to repair the damage done from sleeping on it still gelled, he and Suga meet Ennoshita by the elevators. The RA is grinning at his phone when they walk up. “Ready to go?”
Suga yawns again but smiles. “We’re excited to see the campus. Please, lead the way.”
Now that Nishinoya’s properly awake, he’s excited to properly see the campus he’ll be calling home for the next few months. Ennoshita takes them down the slowly waking sidewalk, where students lingering for summer classes and high school kids visiting for pre-college programs mingle like clusters of bees in a hive. Cars honk freely and pedestrians run across the street wherever and whenever they want. It’s chaos.
Nishinoya already loves it.
They pass the arts and sciences building, which has a twisted steel sculpture in front of it that Noya can’t figure out, and the communications building, which doesn’t have a statue but instead a blocky stone fountain bearing someone’s name. There are other departmental buildings on the other side, Ennoshita tells them, that they’ll see later, if they want. They pass the administration building where they’d been dropped off the night before, and stop in the student services building for Noya and Suga to get their student IDs. Noya frowns when his ID is printed and he sees that the photographer cut off most of his hair height. Then Ennoshita takes them to the biggest building they’ve seen yet, one that’s five stories with shiny mirror-like glass covering the street-facing side.
“And finally, here’s the athletic center, which is the last stop on today’s tour,” Ennoshita announces as he takes them through the main doors. “This building houses three gymnasiums, the weight room and fitness center, and the pool. You’re free to use the weight room and fitness center whenever, but the sports teams have a strict schedule of when they’re allowed in each gym, so as a general rule, don’t go in there.”
The first-floor halls are a veritable museum of sports memorabilia—there are glass cases filled with trophies and felt banners proclaiming victories for various sports teams line the walls, and murals of a giant fluffy dog that must be the school’s mascot.
Ennoshita laughs when he spots Suga staring at a mascot head on a pedestal. “Ah, that’s Norris, the Norcross Newfoundland.”
“Do you have him at every game for every sport?” Suga looks like he wants to poke it. Noya wants to, too. It looks fuzzy.
“Most of them. Norcross is a big sports school, so he’s always at the big games. You know, football, basketball, baseball, hockey. Sometimes volleyball.”
“Wait, that’s awesome! We play volleyball!” Noya beams, planting his hands on his hips. “I’m the libero!”
“Oh! I’m on the volleyball team here!” Ennoshita beams right back.
“No way! What position? Wait, wing spiker?” Noya guesses.
“You got it,” Ennoshita says. “So, actually, I brought you here last because I have practice in a few minutes. So, I could let you head back to the dorm, or I could invite you to practice, if you want? Even if it’s just to hang out and watch?”
“Hell yeah I’ll go!” Noya glances at Suga. “You still tired, Suga-san?”
Suga’s hazel eyes flash with a combination of mirth and competitiveness. “You know I’m never too tired for volleyball. Let’s head back and get our shoes.”
Once they’ve met Ennoshita back in front of the gym, Ennoshita pushes the door open, and Nishinoya’s immediately hit with the sound of volleyballs hitting the floor. Ah yes, this is the most comfortable he’s felt since leaving Tokyo. “So since it’s the summer and most students are home, half the team’s gone, so the practices aren’t official. We just like to keep ourselves in shape. But that just means we’ll be glad to have you join us.”
When they enter the gym, there are four guys in there playing two-on-two. “Oh hey, that’s Tanaka!” Noya exclaims, recognizing the spiker making his approach.
“Huh?” Tanaka stops to glance over. The ball hits him on the head on its way down.
“Our point!” gloats a tall guy on the other side of the net with the worst case of bedhead Noya’s ever seen.
“No fair! I was distracted!” Tanaka protests.
“That’s no excuse in a game!” Bedhead slaps the palm of his teammate, who’s closer to Noya’s height. “Hey, Ennoshita! Who are the new kids?”
“They’re exchange students from Japan!” Ennoshita waves at his teammates. “This is Suga and Nishinoya. They play volleyball for their college team, too, so I thought they could practice with us over the summer.”
“Hell yeah!” Tanaka shouts. “How’s the jet lag?”
“I’ve felt worse,” Noya says cheerily. “What’s everyone’s position?”
“And name?” Suga adds.
One by one, they go around. Bedhead’s name is Kuroo and he’s a middle blocker, and his teammate introduces himself as Yaku, the team’s libero. They already know Tanaka, and his teammate is a setter named Yahaba.
“We have an odd number, though,” Yaku observes.
“That’s okay, maybe next time!” Suga says with a smile. “But I can keep score.”
“Noya, come with us!” Tanaka slaps Noya on the back with a mighty thump. “Hope you can keep up with us, kid!”
Noya slaps him right back. “Just watch me!”
Tanaka wins the coin toss and asks to receive first. Kuroo spins the ball a few times before stepping back. Nishinoya settles into a receiving stance and feels himself relax more than he has since he arrived in this country. This is familiar. This is second nature. Volleyball doesn’t care where in the world you are. The balls, the court lines, the net—all of that’s the same. Kuroo fires a jump serve over the net and Noya dives for it, sending it to Yahaba with a grunt.
“Whoa, nice receive!” Tanaka yells. “Yahaba, to me!”
Yahaba sets high and Tanaka hits it with all the force in his body—only for Kuroo to roof him with a shit-eating grin.
“Ah, damn it!” Yahaba hisses. Noya’s ticked off about losing the point, but he has to admire the ease of Kuroo’s kill block.
Kuroo serves again, and the game continues. Tanaka’s a strong spiker, but he’s no match for Kuroo’s freaky reaction speed. And Yaku—Yaku’s the strongest libero Noya’s ever had the pleasure of watching. Part of him wishes he weren’t playing, wanting to analyze Yaku’s playstyle to learn from. But he is playing, and his team ends up losing by three points.
Kuroo immediately collapses to the floor in a pile of limbs and bad hair. “Fuck, that was close. You’re scary, Noya.”
“Fuckin’ right?” Yaku pipes up. “Damn, I’m impressed.”
Nishinoya grins, happy to be praised by someone he sees as impressive. “Fuck, thanks! You’re really good, too!”
“Another set?” Tanaka asks, but Kuroo shakes his head.
“The basketball team is coming in in ten minutes, so we should clean up,” he says before turning to Noya and Suga. “We usually go out to eat after practices. Want to come with us?”
Suga glances at Nishinoya and nods. “I’m down. Where?”
“There’s a really good ramen place across from the student center,” Ennoshita says. “Want to try it?”
Yahaba snickers. “They should try the spicy ramen challenge.”
Ennoshita smacks Yahaba in the back of the head. “Absolutely not.”
“Why not?” Noya pipes up.
“Because that ramen will burn a hole in your stomach.”
Nishinoya laughs and glances aross the gym at Suga. “I won’t, but Suga might want to.”
“I might want to what?” Suga calls from the other side of the gym.
“There’s a spicy ramen challenge at some ramen shop,” Noya tells him. “I said you’d probably want to give it a try.”
Suga grins sharply. “Oh, you’re on.”
Ennoshita quirks a brow. “Are you sure?”
Suga opens his mouth to answer only for a deafening crash to come from where Tanaka, Kuroo, and Yaku have been taking down the net. Yaku is on the ground, tangled in the net and pointing at Tanaka, who picking the net pole up off the ground.
“Stop fucking around or I’ll ask Kuroo to make you end practice with a hundred serves for the next two weeks!” Yaku shouts.
Noya winces at the punishment. “Aw, come on.”
“Yeah. He should do at least two hundred,” Suga adds with a teasing smile.
“Shut up, you!” Tanaka points an accusing finger at Suga. “You don’t even go here!”
“No, you’re right, but I’ve done two hundred serves after practice for two weeks before,” Suga retorts, his tone even, lilting a the hint of amusement. “My jump floats are pretty good now.”
“No fucking way,” Yahaba says flatly.
“Hey, don’t underestimate him,” Noya corrects him. “He’s one of the most amazing setters I know. He tricked the best setter in the prefecture in the semifinals in high school! And he’s the best pinch server ever!”
Suga laughs. “Bragging about me again? Daichi’ll be jealous.”
“Someone has to! You’re so good!”
“You should play against us sometime, if you’re so good,” Yahaba says. Nishinoya can’t tell if it’s meant as a challenge, but that’s how he takes it.
“Oh, yeah? Next time, me and Suga will wipe the floor with you!” he declares. “Loser buys ramen!”
“You’re on, short stuff.” Yahaba sticks his hand out for a handshake. Noya grits his teeth and grips Yahaba’s hand with a little more force than necessary.
“Don’t call me short stuff, Creampuff,” he says.
Ennoshita doubles over with laughter. “I like him.”
“Hey! Losers! Get the net down or you’re all ending practice with two hundred serves for the next two weeks!” Kuroo yells from the equipment closet.
They scramble to help, Noya speeding around throwing stray balls back into the basket and Suga helping Yahaba and Yaku with the net while Ennoshita grabs a mop and runs across the floor with it. The moment they’re finished, the gym doors open and the basketball team pours inside, which is their cue to get the hell out of there. Kuroo and Yaku fall into step together, talking quietly while the rest of them trail behind. Yahaba makes small talk, asking Nishinoya and Suga about life in Tokyo, telling them that his dad is Japanese but he’s never been there to visit himself. Suga tells Yahaba about Daichi, and in response, Yahaba shows them his own soul mark with a smile in Ennoshita’s direction.
Suddenly, the tingling in Noya’s left forearm that had been a dull warmth explodes into a prickling heat. “The fuck?” he exclaims, pushing the sleeve of his jacket up and glaring at his soul mark. It’s a bit red around the edges now, and though he could write it off as the usual post-practice redness, the heat tells him otherwise.
“Noya, you’re close,” Suga breathes. “Oh my god.”
“Fuck, do you think they’re here?” Noya looks around, wondering if someone else nearby is feeling the same thing.
“What’s happening?” Kuroo’s stopped under the ramen shop sign.
“Noya’s soul mark!” Suga peers at it with a broad smile.
“A lot of Norcross students meet their soulmates in or near the student center,” Yaku says. “Since everyone ends up around here at least once a week.”
“Ah,” Noya mutters, only half-listening. This is something he’s anticipated his whole life, a moment that he’s been raised to believe is one of the most important events of his life. And it’s about to happen right now. Maybe. Possibly.
He shouldn’t get his hopes up, but he totally does. What will they look like? Sound like? Are they taller than him? Do they like volleyball, too? Wait, will they have to go long-distance when Noya goes home when his study abroad is up? Would they move back to Japan with him eventually or would he settle here? Wait, what if they’re just a college student here and their hometown is far away from here, or—
“Noya! What are you waiting for?” Yaku calls to him. Nishinoya blinks, shaking the racing thoughts away and jogging to join the others in the ramen shop. His soul mark feels even hotter now; he shoves his hands in his pockets and clenches his fists to stop himself from scratching at it like a dog with a thorn in its paw.
The ramen shop is a cozy little place with a half dozen tables in the dining area plus about ten seats at the counter. The air is humid and hot, thick with delicious smells that make Nishinoya’s mouth start to water the moment he walks inside.
“Hi, welcome to Rising Sun Ramen—oh, it’s you boys!” A small woman about Noya’s height with kind brown eyes waves at them from behind the counter. “Your usual?”
“Yes please!” Yahaba chirps. “What’s up, Mrs. Azumane?”
“How many times have I told you to call me Moriko?” The woman laughs and scribbles something on a notepad. “I see some new faces today.”
“My name is Sugawara Koushi! It’s very nice to meet you,” Suga says with a smile and a small bow.
“And I’m Nishinoya Yuu! We heard your ramen is the best!” Noya tells her.
Moriko laughs. “I should stop paying for advertising when I have these boys to do it for me for free.”
“We can be paid in ramen!” Yaku slides into one of the stools at the counter. “Noya, Suga, what do you guys want?”
“I heard something about a spicy ramen challenge,” Suga requests with a smile.
Moriko quirks a brow. “It’s awfully spicy, sweetheart. You sure?”
“He can handle anything!” Nishinoya hops up on a stool next to Suga. “You should see him eat super spicy mapo tofu. Inhales that stuff like it’s water. It’s kind of scary.”
Moriko laughs again. “Okay, okay. You got it. And for you, mister?”
Nishinoya glances up at the menu board, but when he looks away to give her the order, his gaze falls on someone he didn’t notice before.
It’s a man who looks to be a few years older than Nishinoya, with brown hair tied back in a loose bun and a scruffy goatee. His apron is splattered with pale stains, but his hands are steady and face set in focused lines as he methodically dices vegetables and slides them into a large pot.
And right there, visible due to his rolled-up sleeves, is his soul mark. Noya has to squint to read it.
42°20'59.3"N
71°06'25.7"W
He doesn’t need to look down at his arm to know those are the exact same numbers that have been on his own skin since birth. “Shit,” he mutters under his breath, blindly whacking at Suga’s arm to get his attention. “That’s. That’s him. That’s my soulmate.”
“Who, that guy?” Suga glances at the man with the goatee. He grabs Noya’s arm, then looks at Goatee Man’s. “Wow.”
“What do I say? What did you say to Daichi?” Nishinoya hisses.
“Nothing special! I just told him my name and asked him if he was here for volleyball club, too!”
The solid plunk of a bowl of ramen in front of Noya makes him look up. “Your surprise bowl,” Goatee Man says. “I gave you gantetsu shoyu.”
Noya isn’t sure what to think of him, at first. His height and build would make him seem intimidating if it weren’t for his nervous little smile and the way he seems to hunch into himself, like he’s trying to make himself appear smaller. But he’s definitely handsome, with the same warm eyes as Moriko. He wonders how they’re related. “Thanks,” Noya says, beaming back at him as the phone begins to ring.
“Asahi, honey!” Moriko calls. “Phone!”
Asahi, Noya repeats to himself as Goatee Man—Asahi—quickly drops Suga’s bowl on the counter and dashes to grab the phone out of the cradle. His soulmate’s name is Asahi. He looks back down at his soul mark, which has finally stopped tingling. It’s a strange feeling after over a day of constantly feeling like he’s got an itch under his skin there. His body, his soul, feels at peace now that he’s met his person. For the first time in his life, he feels calm.
Asahi, apparently, can’t say the same, because he hangs up the phone, covers his face, and whimpers.
“Oh, what’s the problem now?” Moriko tuts.
“I had to ask them to repeat their order and they yelled at me and hung up,” Asahi mumbles from behind his hands.
“Ah, Asahi’s glass heart strikes again,” Ennoshita says with a good-natured laugh. “How can you look like this but act like that?”
“Yeah, and your moms aren’t like that at all!” Yahaba snickers. “Where do you get it from?”
Suga laughs too. “We knew quite a few gentle giants back in high school,” he says, elbowing Noya in the ribs. “Remember that middle blocker we played at Interhigh?”
Asahi perks up at that. “You guys play volleyball, too?”
Noya sits up a little straighter, puffing his chest out with pride. “I’m a libero! You play?”
“Talk later! Suga has a spicy ramen challenge!” Tanaka cuts in, slamming a set of chopsticks on the table in front of Suga. “Go, Suga, go!”
Suga smiles and thanks Moriko for the food before picking up his chopsticks. Moriko leans on the end of the counter, clearly interested.
“Do you want a glass of water?” Asahi offers, already grabbing a cup from behind the counter.
“I should be okay,” Suga says with a wave of his hand. And with that, he digs in.
Nishinoya’s the only one unsurprised when Suga swallows his food and declares that it’s delicious.
Yahaba, Tanaka, and Kuroo all start screaming. Yaku bursts out laughing, slaps Suga on the shoulder, and shouts, “I like this one!” Ennoshita looks vaguely amused. Asahi looks alarmed.
“Are you okay?” he asks, hastily placing a cup of water in front of Suga, who’s just smiling serenely.
“I’m fine! It’s tasty. Thank you very much.”
Noya takes that as his sign to start eating as well. But before he can try the ramen, Moriko appears in front of him.
“Nishinoya,” she says lowering her voice so she won’t be heard over the noise of six other teenage boys, “may I see your soul mark?”
“Uh, yeah, sure.” Noya puts his chopsticks down and pushes his sleeve up, tilting his forearm so his soul mark is visible. “You noticed, huh?”
Moriko gives him a smile. “Yesterday, Asahi began saying his mark was tingling. When you walked in the door, it began burning so much he dropped a pan full of stir fry on the floor. I knew it wasn’t any of the other boys, and Suga’s is starting to fade, so I knew it had to be you.”
Noya casts another glance at Asahi, who is still gawking over Suga’s lack of reaction to the spicy ramen broth. “Has he figured out it’s me?”
Moriko laughs. “He might have if he didn’t get distracted by the phone. I would tell you to give him a few minutes, but sometimes…sometimes he responds better if you’re straightforward with him.” Then she winks—actually winks—and glides back to the kitchen to start rinsing out a pot.
Suga pushes his empty bowl away as Kuroo shakes his head. “You’re not from this planet, I swear,” Kuroo says. “How the hell, bro?”
“Hey, Asahi!” Noya calls.
“Coming!” Asahi hurries over. “Can I get you anything else?”
“No! Not that. I just…” Noya holds out his arm. “You felt it when I came in, right?”
With a curious expression, Asahi stretches his own arm out next to Noya’s, eyes widening as he compares the numbers. “It is you,” he breathes.
Noya chuckles. “Were you hoping for Suga? I don’t blame you, but he’s been with his soulmate for five years.”
“No! No, no, no!” Asahi sputters out, blushing deeply when Noya snickers. “No, I just—I was surprised. You’re new to Norcross?”
“I’m here for six months for a study abroad.”
Asahi’s face falls. “So…you’re leaving. You’re leaving after the winter semester.”
Noya reaches across the counter and gives Asahi a good-natured punch in the shoulder. Not nearly as hard as Suga would, but just hard enough to make him yelp and shoot Noya a wounded look. “Hey, don’t worry about that yet. I just got here yesterday! So I’ve got six months minus a day here, and you can bet I’ll be spending, like, at least a third of them in here. So don’t look all bent out of shape about it, okay?”
“Noya, be nice,” Ennoshita chides him. “Glass heart, remember?”
“Aw, he can take it!” Nishinoya laughs. “Right?”
“Er—right.” Asahi doesn’t look totally convinced, but there’s a smile on his face and a blush creeping across his cheeks as he grins and rubs at the back of his neck. “I guess I’ll learn how.”
That’s right—they’re soulmates. Nishinoya isn’t sure how this is going to work out when he has to go back to Tokyo in the winter. Maybe they’ll go long-distance until Noya graduates and maybe he’ll try to move to Boston. Or maybe Asahi can move to Japan. Maybe Noya will end up playing for a professional team somewhere in Europe and they can embark on a new adventure together.
But those are all decisions for far in the future. He’s got six months to get to know Asahi and a bowl of gantetsu shoyu that smells divine, so he dives right in.