Chapter Text
Upon waking up, Yaku Morisuke found himself half-blind.
Oh, wait. That was just his hair.
Which was weird in and of itself, because he kept his hair shorter than to let it grow down to his eyes, mostly because of volleyball and studying. And because long hair annoyed him a lot. So the first thing he did after waking up was to search for the bathroom, only to fall down from the gallery bed he didn’t remember having.
The day didn’t even start yet, but it got weirder and weirder with every passing second.
Now half-blind and hurting, Yaku tried his best to navigate through the house, or at least the room. Which was a rather small one, too. Smaller than the kitchen in his home. It had a few shelves full of books, a window covered by the curtains, and a gallery bed with a studying table under it.
"How can anyone live in a mess like this?" the boy asked upon noticing the books and notes all over the desk with the laptop still opened. Pens and highlights everywhere, trashbin and its surroundings full of paper and food containers.
Not being able to stand the mess, he quickly organized the desk at least and opened the curtains.
The sight revealing itself before him was one to knock him down. He saw a bright red commission tower, wondering if he was dreaming or if it really was the Skytree. The skyscrapers reflected the bright morning sun and shone even brighter. The monotonous and slight noise of the cars and the transportation on the roads, heavy from cars, buses and who knew what Yaku couldn't recognise. Someone from the window on the other side of the door smiled and waved at him as they watered the plants.
And there was no bird orchestra. There were no dog arguments or loud music of a kid thinking he's so badass by it. There was only the heavy and filling sound of life.
Yaku didn't even realise his smile grew until it started to hurt. He quickly shook his head and returned to his mission to find a bathroom.
Where he would meet with… someone who definitely wasn't himself. He didn't have cunning looking golden eyes that his reflection did. He didn't have black hair swiping upwards and into his eyes. He didn't have a mouth, instinctively moving upwards into a crooked smile. And he most definitely wasn't almost out of frame from any bathroom mirrors, except the ones made explicitly for children.
But still, the reflection in the mirror said otherwise. He tried moving his arms around, but the strange man still followed his movements, crushing his hopes of it only being a picture.
"What the hell… okay, who let the government crossbreed a rooster and a human? Disgusting" he grimaced as he realised that he was trapped in this body. But if he was in it, the least he could do was to try and get him to look acceptable.
After trying, and failing in doing something with his hair, he gave up and dressed up in what looked like his school uniform. For safety measures, he put most books and notebooks into his bag. The only thing he didn't count with was the volleyball bag by the door. For the first time since he saw Tokyo, he smiled. And stepped out of the house.
"You're not Kuroo" a quiet voice, and a small boy greeted him as he did so. He sounded accusing, and the unshakable confidence in his words didn't let Yaku think of an excuse or a lie.
"You're friends with this guy?" he asked instead, gesturing to his new body. "I'm sorry" he sighed, placing his hand on the blonde's shoulder after the nod he got as a reply.
"So, what happened?" the guy asked, looking back at the blue console in his hands Yaku didn't notice before, and started his way to school. At least that's what Yaku hoped.
"I woke up in this weird body. I mean, what is this hair? How is he? What do I have to know?" Yaku asked in desperate hope he would be kind enough to help him out. Maybe they together can get to the bottom of this.
With a nod, he luckily started to talk, not even taking his eyes off the game he played. Worried for his well-being, Yaku ended up having his hands on his shoulders in an attempt to guide him through the crowd and traffic so he didn't have to lose concentration or divide his attention even more.
And he was thankful he did so. It seemed like he was more willing to talk like this. Or maybe it was just his imagination. He got to know that his name is now Kuroo Tetsuro, a third-year student of Nekoma High School, a childhood friend of Kozume Kenma - who won't tell anyone about the change -, captain of the school's volleyball team, and a middle blocker as well. Yaku wasn't exactly happy with this information, as he never even attempted to spike the ball or block. Maybe he'd have to resort to asking Kageyama or Tsukishima for advice when he gets back. If he does. But he didn't even want to think of that for now.
There wasn't really time for any more tales and loads of information, as they soon arrived at the school building. It was huge. Not much more, but a bit bigger than Karasuno was, though he didn't care for it.
After a short briefing from Kenma, he indeed found his classroom. And the lessons went on how lessons usually go. The teacher explaining the material not unfamiliar to Yaku, and the students taking notes. The only thing he was briefly baffled by were the intensity of the subjects. But he should have guessed that already. This was Tokyo, after all, not a town in the middle of nowhere, where most people will live their entire lives anyways.
“Are you okay, Kuroo? Did you manage to submit your assignment yesterday?” a figure popped out from behind Yaku right after the teacher announced the end of the last lesson. Yaku couldn’t even breathe out in relief of him surviving the lessons, he was already there. But to his surprise, he met a kind and almost worried face. “You know the deadline is midnight, right?”
It took the boy a moment to decipher the words and their meaning, it caught him so off guard. And without Kenma’s help, he was frozen for a second on what to say. You can do it yourself, Morisuke. You can handle Yuu and Tanaka with the first years. This is nothing , he encouraged himself.
“I did, I just left it for today to edit it. Not good doing it with a tired mind, am I right?” he eventually replied, while putting his things away to get ready to go to the clubroom. Or wherever these city boys changed to volley clothes.
“And did you manage to sleep, too?” he asked and swinging two bags around his shoulder, he started out, waiting by the door for Yaku, who quickly followed, trusting him blindly. He seemed so calm and trustworthy.
“Of course I did! Do you know me like that?” the black-haired asked, half to shift the potential blame, half to actually get some information as he looked at the other, realising he didn’t even know his name. This could be a problem.
But he couldn’t reply, as they arrived at the gym, which Yaku didn’t even notice. He could barely look at the ulterior design of the back of the school and the clubroom before his classmate opened the door, and he was hit by at least ten people shouting his name or some kind of a greeting.
He muttered something back, and following the helping hand gestures of Kenma, he found his place to change. As he could judge, this was a rather small club, compared to the surprising popularity their own volley club had. But this number may not be all. They can be sick, or just late. He just hoped it’s not a big club. Because their own team was big enough for him, and he wasn’t a captain there. He couldn’t be one.
“You’re late again! When will you learn to be on time?” Yaku heard an angry voice, along with a few sighs as the door opened once again. When he turned to see who came in, he thought he was dreaming for a moment.
“Suga-kun?” he asked, though even he could feel the weakness in his voice. Just when he thought he was alone in this dream coming true, the person he wanted to go out with in the city was right in front of him now. Even being in a different body would have been bearable if the other third-year were to be with him.
“Ah, Kuroo-san! Sorry for being late!” the white-haired turned to him, only to shatter all his hopes. Which, for some reason, made Yaku’s water boil.
“How many times have I told you to be on time? Next time, be the first or you can start with a hundred laps around school, got it?” he asked, almost shouting, and left the small changing room to avoid the looks he would have gotten otherwise. He can make bad punishments if he’s the captain, after all.
“What was that, Kuroo?” the well-known voice of Kenma followed Yaku a bit afterwards, surprising him with it. He looked down at the blonde a bit regretting it already and missing his own pair of kneepads. Without them, he felt so vulnerable and weird.
“Nothing. Let’s just wait for the others in the gym” he sighed and entered the gym. To his surprise, there were already two people inside. Two adults, at that. He quickly leaned down to ask Kenma about it and got informed about not only having one but instantly two coaches. Yaku had to blink a bit more often as they waited for their teammates.
When everyone arrived, after greetings, they ran outside, in the fresh air. And Yaku had to admit, he liked the idea. He might steal it. They only ran outside on self-made training camps. Though, if he thought more about it, they also risk losing people on the team.
He shook his head. No running outside, then. Not worth the risk.
“Kenma, are you doing alright?” Yaku asked, as he suddenly didn’t see the setter when he stopped by a crossing to quickly count heads.
“He always drags behind. Let’s just go on” the one with a mohawk told him, and with the rest of them, did so. But not Yaku. He decided to wait there, making sure his supposed childhood friend didn’t just cough his lungs up.
Of course, he got a few weird looks, but luckily, practice went on without a problem. Fortunately, they only practised some of the most basic moves; receiving. As much as he gathered, they were a team, full of strong receivers, which filled the libero with joy. He won’t look suspicious then. Even if there were a few people who could have used a few tutoring lessons. Or more.
On the way home, Kenma provided him with more information, especially about the team this time. While listening, Yaku decided to look around and take in the new sight. It was a lot hotter than Miyagi, especially after a good practice. He enjoyed the soft hum of the train they took on the way home, the look of the dark sky from the window, and the colourful lights of the cars of the roads. He was overjoyed not hearing the cicadas’ songs or the dogs’ battles, only the low noises of the cars. He couldn’t erase the smile from his face.
Too quickly, they arrived at Kuroo’s apartment Yaku already recognised. He said bye to Kenma and started to search for his set of keys, expecting it to be an easy find. But he only found a balanced bunch of keys. One key for the clubroom he already saw, and two more keys with a few keychains on it. There was only one problem. There was no keyhole.
Very confused, he dialled Kenma’s number on his phone. After the third ring, he eventually picked it up. Yaku quickly stated his problem, and luckily, the setter let him stay by him until this magic swap thing would go away. Having received his location, he started off there and let himself in.
“You can stay over for dinner, too. Mom made too much” he noted from his bed, the blue console again - or still - in his hands.
“Do you want to eat now? Practice was pretty good today” Yaku asked, and received a nod as a reply. Navigating himself through the house, which was a bit bigger than Kuroo’s, he heated up the food and brought them back. “Also, I should edit an assignment, do you know where I can do that?”
“Switch users on my PC. Kuroo usually puts his recent assignments in your face, you can’t miss it” Kenma replied, and stopped his game in order not to get food stains all over his bed, which made Yaku smile while he tried to figure out the electronics.
In the assignment itself, he had to trust this Kuroo knew what he was writing about. Because Yaku had no idea, but also no time to look it up and edit it. So, without any regrets of him being brutally cruel, he started to edit. A lot of “ What even is this sentence? ”, “ Who even says this? ”, “ Can he even speak Japanese? ” and “ Ugh, what is he thinking of himself? ” has left his mouth as his fingers flew across the keyboard.
After hours of hard work and some checking up on Kenma, he finally submitted the piece on Kuroo’s behalf. And instantly, he fell asleep by the desk.