Archive of Our Own ^beta

The driver looked at you funny, and so did everyone else because you’re wearing an oversized shirt with wet and dirty pants.

You were almost not let in but you practically pleaded to the driver and promised you had something to clean the seat with. He must have found that agreeable since he did let you in. Or maybe he took pity. You don’t really care. You’re just glad to finally be on your way home.

Earlier, you didn’t really mind the wet clothes. But now, you can’t wait to strip yourself off everything you’re wearing. The filth and cold is becoming intolerable, clawing onto your skin further each passing minute.

You just want to reach home and change, rid yourself of Tsukishima’s shirt. You want to get under the shower and scrub where Tsukishima’s finger burned through your skin. You want to erase the unseen traces he’s jarringly left on you tonight. You don’t want them lingering on any part of you. 

You don’t know what caused his sordid behavior, but you feel like you stepped on something that triggered it. It was too sudden and too unlikely of him to do that with no reason. You just cannot point out what it is exactly. 

He was an asshole, granted. You would’ve been furious if he did what he did just for the sake of being one. Something set him off and that made things even more confusing. 

You run your palm across your face, not sure what’s colder - your hand or your cheek. 

Regardless of Tsukishima’s reasons, what he did was inappropriate. He shouldn’t have gotten that close. He shouldn’t have touched you like that. He had no right to. 

For fuck’s sake, did he think you would just stand there and do nothing?

You drag your hand down, letting it rest on the window sill beside you with your hand crumpled in frustration. 

That’s exactly what you did - you stood there and let him embarrass yourself. You want to pin it all on him. You are raging on the inside but to some degree, he was right. You should’ve pushed him away harder. 

What were you waiting for? When would you have snapped out of your cursed trance in his almost embrace? You’re sure you would. You definitely would. 

You were just … 

You groan as you peel your gaze off the road. The more you think about it, the more convoluting it is. You feel a strain in your forehead which must be from the frown you’ve had since you sat down.

You’re tired and trying to make sense of what happened in the bathroom is draining you. You’re trying to figure out Tsukishima’s behavior while puzzling out yours. And while your mind is working double time, you still can’t come up with a sensible explanation. 

When your stop comes to view, you’re a little soothed. At least you can get out of your clothes sooner. You’re not any close to finding some plausible conclusion to tonight’s mystery but at least you’re getting home soon. 

Maybe then in your solitude, you can have some peace. 

—-

You haven’t met Tsukushima again since the night at the museum. It’s been three weeks and no one has gotten in touch with the other. The next step in your timetable is the write up. You two didn’t set a specific time frame on it so you’re just letting it be. 

You were so occupied with your exams two weeks ago and last week was just as busy with the exam of the class you’re handling. You barely touched the paper. You might have written one or two sentences in but you’re willing to bet hard money that you wrote shit. You just wanted to get started on it so you grabbed your laptop at around 4am after checking exam papers.

You’re not sure what happened on Tsukishima’s end, and you don’t want to get an update either. If he’s not asking for one, then you won’t give it. 

After spending a tremendous amount of time trying to decipher the events from the private tour, you came up with no explanation for it still. However, you’ve arrived with two conclusions, the first one being that no matter what his reasons were, he’s the one who acted inappropriately.

You’re done doing mental gymnastics for Tsukishima. You’re not going to justify his actions because you’re sure he won’t do it himself. Why should you bother defending someone’s behavior when they indulge in being the asshole every time?

Secondly, you cannot be friends with Tsukishima. You can be civil and professional. But not friends. You cannot spend any energy trying to weave an amicable friendship with him. He proved to be too complicated. In the past months, you’ve grown and so did he. And yet, you still can’t see eye to eye with him. There were times when he was nice, which made you believe that a friendly relationship was possible. But when he’s not being nice, he is vicious. You don’t want any of it anymore. You’d rather be distant. 

Some things are just beyond fixing. One of those is your relationship with Tsukishima. 

“Y/n?”

“Hmm?” You tap your pen on top of the stack of papers you‘ve been staring at for no one knows how long. 

“You’ve been looking at that paper for .. 46 minutes now.” You stand corrected. Apparently, your boyfriend knows how long. You grin then turn from your seat to look at him. “Didn’t know you were timing me.”

He walks to your desk then places his palms against the edge as he leans on it, facing you. “I was timing how long it would take for my hot girlfriend to pay attention to me again.”

Your grin spreads as let out an amused huff. You look up at him then press your lips together before speaking. “Sorry. I’ve been zoning out a lot cause all I’ve been doing is working and studying for the past three weeks.”

He brings one hand to your cheek then caresses it. “Still checking your papers, maam?”

You roll your eyes but keep your smile. “How many times do I need to tell you that no one calls me that.” Your students usually call you Miss. 

“I do.” He wriggles his brows up and at that point, you’re sure he’s not letting it go. He will most probably call you ‘ma’am’ whenever he gets the chance. You should call it a night with your papers already. 

No, not really. You can’t call it a night but you should rest then pick it up again. You’re almost done checking anyways. You just have to suck it up for a few more hours. 

“By the way,”

You stretch your neck before you stand up. The couch seems like a good idea with Kuroo beside you. 

“Whose polo is that in your closet?”

Your knees lock in place, preventing you from standing up as your lower body tenses. 

“I was looking for one of my shirts and saw it there. I know that wasn’t mine.” If he was being suspicious, you can’t tell. Either he isn't or he’s good at hiding it.

You lift your gaze to meet his and see for yourself, only to find that he’s not even looking at you. He’s looking at his phone and scrolling through it. He must’ve seen something funny because he suddenly laughs. “Stupid,” he comments lowly from whatever it is that he saw.

Then, he looks at you with a beaming smile. “Bokuto is begging me to let him join the new teams I’m assembling next season.” He shows you his phone and a message thread that looks like a group chat that’s named ‘Volleyboys.’

Just like he said, there Bokuto was with a huge scowl that can be seen from a mile away. Atsumu took the photo, a smug smile on his face in the selfie he took

“He has no fucking idea that he really is in the roster. I’m supposed to go to him next to personally invite him but I guess I don’t have to anymore.”

Kuroo truly finds it funny and you would’ve too if not for his pressing question hanging on your head. Still, you can’t help but adore Kuroo. On the surface, he looks easygoing, but actually, he’s really earnest. You can tell how much he loves his job and how happy he is still in the Volleyball scene and that he’s surrounded by people he’s been with since high school. 

“The polo is Tsukishima’s,” you admit with an ambivalent smile. It holds no meaning of course but anyone can easily misinterpret it. If there’s anyone you don’t want that misunderstanding to happen to, that would be Kuroo.

The glee on his smile becomes a perplexed one as his brows meet. “Tsukishima?” You know he’s trying to be reasonable but you hear specks of wariness in his voice.

“It’s nothing, really.” You try not to sound too defensive but it’s hard when your ever trusting boyfriend looks suspicious of you for the first time in your relationship. “Remember when I texted you to fetch me from the museum sometime three weeks ago. I fell on their ponds under construction. So he ..” You accidentally pause because you’re supposed to say ‘he was nice enough to let you borrow a shirt,’ but he was far from nice.”So he gave me that,” you say instead. 

“We haven’t met since then so I wasn’t able to give it back yet.”

He pulls up the nearest chair then sits in front of you. He tucks your hair behind your ear then grins like he usually does as he cups your chin.

“If I knew you were dripping wet when you texted me, I would’ve taken the bullet train to get there.”

You blink once from what he said, not yet fully grasping what he was implying. Three seconds in, your mouth forms an “o” when you finally get it, landing a light punch on his arm. “Pervert.”

He chuckles then stands up and takes you by complete surprise when he scoops your legs. You yelp as he carries you and he starts walking to the couch. “Kuroo, what the fuck!” You squeal but are smiling widely as he settles you down.

“You need a break,” he states then deposits kisses on the side of your cheek which makes you laugh. You thought he’s going to feel you up and have a ‘quick’ break but instead, he positions you between his legs and wraps his arms around your waist. He kisses your temple one more time then turns on the television.

“I remember we still haven’t finished the crappy snake movie you put on last time.”

You tilt your head to look at him. You try to look peeved by him suddenly taking you off your work space but you can’t. Your smile turns soft as you can’t help but appreciate how he effectively eases two worries with such a simple gesture.

“It’s crappy and we’re going to watch it,” you lean in to plant a soft kiss on his lips before turning back around to look at the television of your small apartment.

You were nervous for a moment there. You thought he was going to dig even more with what happened but he brushed it off so casually. You weren’t prepared for him finding that polo in your closet so if he wanted to ask more, you would’ve complied. 

And Kuroo does actually want to ask more. He wants to ask why didn’t you tell him about it. He wants to know if it really meant nothing to you and to Tsukishima. He knows the guy and if he’s a betting man, he’d bet his last coin that it wasn’t nothing to the Frogs’ middle blocker.

You said before that Tsukishima felt nothing but contempt for you, but now he’s certain that that’s not in any way true.

The blonde cares about you or rather, still does.

It’s a little worrying.

He didn’t think he’s the jealous sort of man but you haven’t told him exactly what you felt for Tsukishima. You just said there was something between you two. That’s the extent of what he knows about your feelings for the blonde.

He can ask all sorts of stuff, including that, but he decides not to.

Because no matter what happened then, he trusts you. 

You could’ve easily said that you bought the polo or that it was someone else’s. The night when Tsukishima gave you the polo, it was Kuroo you reached out to. He just wasn’t there.

So he puts it to rest.

Even if Tsukishima does have feelings for you. You don’t reciprocate them. That he’s sure of. If not, you would not be with him, in his lap, your lips on his. 

Tsukishima has long lost his chance. This project you have going on will soon be over and whatever tiny worry he has will be gone as well. 

He smiles against your lips, pulling away to look for the remote. 

“Let’s finish that crappy snake film of yours, shall we?”

–

You look at the wretched paper bag in your office desk. You brought it with you days ago and have been waiting for Tsukishima to reach out to you and continue the paper as planned. It’s been a whole month since the night at the museum and you’re more than ready to face the man. You want to return the polo, consider the whole thing forgotten, and move the project forward.

After your slew of responsibilities, you’ve managed to compose yourself again. You survived hell aka exam week which equals to reviewing your subjects and assisting the department with their own exam needs. You can surely survive Tsukishima again. 

So you sent him an e-mail on when will your next meeting be and his response was:

‘Hi,

I’m currently available. I have training everyday this week. I will let you know once I am free again. 

You can divide the next part of the write up and assign my respective contribution. I will do it prior to our next meeting. Then, we can discuss the rest.

Thanks.

Regards, Tsukishima Kei Tomizawa Site Museum, Docent’

It was a respectable response. You had your swamped days and he’s having his right now. You can understand completely. You’re not mad that he’s not free. 

That paper bag has been sitting on your desk the whole week already. You’ve ignored it successfully when it was still in your drawer, but then, Kuroo had to see it before you could return it to its owner. 

As you told your boyfriend, the shirt means nothing but it has to go. You just borrowed it and now you need to return it. You need it gone entirely and you need it gone soon. You don’t like it staying with you any longer than it already has. 

It’s strange having it around - like you owe Tsukishima something but at the same time paid it back already with how he embarrassed you. You want none of those hanging on your shoulders, hence, the necessity to return it.

You move your mouse to bring your screen back to life and check your email if he may have responded while you were in class. 

Nothing.

No response. You suck in the hollows of your cheeks then turn your gaze begrudgingly back to the bag containing the cursed polo. 

You huff out frustratedly then turn off your laptop and pack your stuff. As you stand up, you get the paper bag and head to the Sendai gymnasium. Plop and drop is the plan. You’ll go there, give the thing, and leave. Just like that. Solid and quick plan. 

Your mind is racing as quickly as your steps are. You’re nervous, but not because you’ll be seeing Tsukishima. You’re nervous because you’ll be in proximity with the Sendai Gymnasium once again. 

You don’t plan on going in and saying hi to everybody else. You’re there for one thing and one thing only - the return of Tsukishima’s polo. 

God, that sounds like a shitty horror movie but holding onto his polo does feel horrendous at this point. Best to get rid of it. 

When you get to the gym, the blue are winning over the orange and yellow hues of the sky. You fend off the nostalgia you felt the last time you were there. Even from where you are, you hear the squeaks of the shoes, the whistle, the slam of balls against the floor. 

You sigh audibly and whisk the wistfulness away.

You proceed to the side of the gym where no one goes to at that time of the day. The side of the gym doesn’t have a post light so it’s rarely frequented by anyone once it starts getting dim. 

You get your phone and look for Tsukishima’s contact. You pass by “Tsu” on your phone, but don’t see his name there. You go back up to “Ke” to see if it’s there instead, but no Kei Tsukishima nor Tsukishima Kei. 

Fuck.

Fuck! You kept telling yourself previously that you’d get his phone number that you surmise you did already. But you didn’t! 

You groan a little then go to your email since you have no other way of contacting him. Although, what are the odds of him looking at his email during training? Not likely. You pause your typing and think if you really want to email him to get out of the gym to meet you outside all of a sudden. 

How much do you really want to give the damned polo shirt to Tsukishima?

The answer is yes.

You type your email and send it using your personal email.

‘Tsukishima!! It’s Y/N! Come out. I’m outside the gym.’

Then the waiting game begins. You just wait and pray that he responds and comes out. You hope that this isn’t a waste of your time but the worst that can happen is he doesn’t show up.

You’ll give it thirty minutes then you go home. Practice ends at nine. That’s roughly two hours from now. You can wait, but you won’t wait that long.

Even if you were willing, you’d risk the possibility of getting seen by somebody else. That’s the worst thing that can happen.

“Hey!”

And the horrors of Tsukishima’s polo ensues as you hear a voice that is not Tsukishima’s a few steps behind you.

You freeze on the spot as your mind forms two options.

First, you flee from the scene.

Second, you confront the person then ask for Tsukishima to secretly meet you there.

The second one would work if the person happens to be a new member, someone who doesn’t know you. Unfortunately, you do know this person. And this person won’t “secretly” tell Tsukishima to come out.

The first option is viable, but there is the chance that he’d go after you.

Damn it, why did it have to be Kogane? It could've been Coach Mira, Shiro, or even the team Captain, Eiji. They’re the people you can reason with. Given, you’d feel bad. But you know that they’re most likely to sympathize with your departure.

You sigh then conjure a third option that’s most likely to work. You’ll kindly ask him to deliver the bag to its proper owner.

You slowly turn around, an awkward smile plastered on your face. “Hey,” you greet just as uneasily.

It’s not just the awkwardness of being seen there that’s the issue. It’s being seen again after you vanished without a word. Maybe the first option was better after all. Who knows how Kogane will react after catching you in that obscure place? But you have no choice but to bite the bullet. After all, you’re the one who loaded the damn gun. 

“You shouldn’t be here, you know.” To say that Kogane’s words hurt is an understatement. You knew there was a high chance that you are unwelcome, but to tell you that you shouldn’t be there is gut-wrenching. This is Kogane. You used to give him the spare noodles you had on your team dinners. He used to blush whenever you’d talk to him out of the blue. The player once asked for a selfie with you as his birthday gift so you hugged him in the selfie for a little extra. 

This is Kogane, now telling you that you do not belong there. 

You nod then make your way back to the main street, Kogane behind you, obviously making sure that you stay away from the gymnasium. 

“This should be okay now,” he says once you two are out of the dim place where you were hiding. “There are lights here so you should be safe. Were you waiting for someone?” His voice sounds off. It hints at an odd sense of kindness and concern. 

At least he can still be those two while driving you out. As a sign of gratitude for those, you turn to him and give him a small smile. “I’m fine, Kogane. I can manage from here.”

His eyes grow wide as saucers, his whole frame goes rigid as he stammers to get a word out.”Y-you.. Manager.. I mean, Y/N!”

You frown at his stunned expression. Did he recognize you only now? You already faced him a while ago when he was right behind you by the side of the gym.

He suddenly grabs your wrist, startling you from how hard his grip is. “Are you here to visit us?!” He practically shouted at you and before you can make sense of things, he’s dragging you towards the entrance. 

“Kogane!” You yell out in panic because you’re not sure you’re ready for what he’s about to do. You wouldn’t want to disrupt training. You’re also not sure if he’s happy with your sudden return or that he’ll drag you inside and let everyone know that the deserter is there. 

You try to budge but your strength appears to be unnoticed by the six-foot setter. Before you can actually do something about it, you’re already inside the gym, the lights seemingly blinding from the nostalgia that hits you. 

It’s just how you remember it, the height of the ceiling, the lingering scent of leather and sweat mixed together. It’s as if the place is frozen, never changing over time.

Unlike the people in it.

Your gaze drops to the faces, some familiar, some are not. By the looks of it, they’re on a break, which explains why Kogane was out there.

“Y/n is here!” The man holding your wrist announces loudly and waves your hand, your fingers shaking like jelly in the air as your arm stretches up to accommodate his height.

It’s uncomfortable, but not as uncomfortable as seeing the faces you know staring at you with their jaws slack. 

You swallow the discomfort and try to make things not as awkward by using your free hand to wave at them. You want to sound cheerful, but you know you came across as timid when you gave them a small smile paired with a shaky, “Hi.”

Their agape mouths all turn up to form a wide smile, Eiji. Shiro, Coach Mira, even Kyoutani. The boys run to you all obviously happy that you’re there. Kogane lets you go, your hand dropping to your side as they all go to you and start bludgering you with questions and greetings.

“How are you??”

“You look great, Y/N. Even better than before.”

“You finally came to visit!”

“Where do you work now?”

They were all speaking at the same time but you heard them all because you were looking for animosity from them, readying yourself for enmity, but found none. They truly looked happy that you’re there, no hint of antipathy whatsoever. As you take a good glance at everyone there, they’re the same happy faces greeting you when clock in the morning. 

Your lips form a smile, relieved and elated that the people you once considered family don’t hate you. Your smile is not as big as theirs but your happiness that came with the relief is twice as much. You know that you owe them an explanation but at the moment, you feel like just being there is enough for now.

“Break is over. Get back on the court.” Despite the clamors, everyone hears Coach Mira’s strict tone even when she’s many steps away from you and the guys.

They give you warm smiles and their own ‘see you in a bit’ gestures before they jog back to where the net is. As they disperse, Coach comes into view, her gaze boring at you from afar.

You stand your ground, self-conscious and unnerved because of your sudden appearance in the gym. Even though you kept her number, you didn’t dare contact her. You kept it out of respect, but not to maintain relations with her.

You were glad that she didn’t text you even though she knows your new number, but now you’re not sure where you stand in this court. You’re no longer the prized manager. You’re just a visitor.

Before shame can sink its teeth onto you, Coach suddenly smiles and tips her head to her side, signaling you to go and stand beside her.

You couldn’t help but smile back, the kind of smile that you can feel radiating all over your face. Having her welcome you there in her own way after the guys did was the validation you didn’t know you needed.

Despite everything, it’s okay for you to be there. You were once part of that gym and it’s okay for you to be there at present.

“Y/n!” Shiro greets from Coach Mira’s left side, her face a little funny because she looks happy but also looks like she’s about to cry.

“You’re back.” She says as she sniffs while holding a clipboard which you used to hold when tallying measures of the boys’ progress while training.

“Hey, Shiro,” you smile daintily at her before moving your gaze to Coach Mira.

“Hi, Coach.” It’s a simple greeting but you feel a tug in your chest, a twinge that’s oddly comforting.

“Well, look who decided to pay a visit.” It was a jab that if it were not for the particular gentleness in her eyes, you might have taken offense in it given how conscious you were in coming back.

She moves a little to give you space to stand beside her. “To what do we owe this visit?”

As you walk to stand beside her, you’re reminded why you were there in the first place. The turn of events were so fast and you were being swept one thing after the other that you forgot your actual purpose there. 

When you take your stance beside Coach, you’re given a view of the court that you’re extremely familiar with. Your eyes lock in one person - the reason why you’re there.

And he looks right back at you. Even from where you are, you can tell that he’s wondering what the hell you’re doing there. And honestly, you’re beginning to ask yourself the same thing. You can just leave the polo to Shiro and discreetly ask her to give it to Tsukishima.

Knowing that your team bears no hard feelings towards you was unexpected great news. You owe them an apology. That’s it. An amicable closure and a proper goodbye is what you owe them, not to reconnect.

And yet, there you are, unable to help yourself from cheering them on. You bite your tongue from making comments from outside the court but deep inside, you want to yell to Kogane that he should focus on his side of the court first than the opposing middle blocker. You want to scream at Tsukishima because goddamnit, he’s being lazy again. You want to tell the new players to spread at the back of the court when Kyoutani is hitting because that will be a cannonball straight from hell.

You’re clutching the paperbag tight now, tense and rigid from everything you’re holding in. This is the first game you’re watching in six months, which immensely adds up to the frenzy and excitement you’re reeling in.

Kyotani’s side of the court gets the point, obviously, because no one was covering near the backline. By the next rally, three people cover the back, like you mentally told them to, as Kyoutani gets set again.

You nod approvingly because that’s exactly what they should do. 

Kyoutani dashes towards the net once more and you notice something off in his form and you’re not sure you like it. His posture in the air is not as curved as it was before. If he hits, the opposing team will be able to receive it.

You hear Kyoutani’s grunt as his arm swings faster and sharper. This should be no problem for Tsukishima as the hit is predictable and it’s obvious that Kyoutani decided to slam down directly.

Just as Tsukishima jumps, Kyoutani touches the ball but instead of slamming it down, he lets the ball touch palm, absorbing its momentum before pushing the ball down just with his fingertips.

There’s no mistaking it. That was a feign.

Kyoutani, the former Mad Dog, the team’s current cannon, feigned. You see Tsukishima scowl, his discontent gaze flickering to you for a second before talking to the other middle blocker in his team.

The corner of your mouth twitches because you want to laugh. You know how much Tsukishima hates being deceived by a fake out, much more if it’s from Kyoutani who doesn’t feign.

But that’s great for the team. If Kyoutani got past the smartest middle in the team, then it’s good enough to use in a real match.

Kogane rejoices as if he’s the one who scored and gave Kyoutani, whose hands are already up in the air, a high five.

Before you left, Coach has been telling Kyoutani over and over to tip when he can. He says he’s been trying but every time he’s been given the ball, he explains that it looks like a good one to smash over.

At the few times you’d seen him attempt a feign before, they were utter failures because it was obvious just from the lack of power in the approach that he was just going to tip it over.

But just now, you really thought he was about to slam the ball.

“Good job, Kyoutani!” You hear Shiro’s enthused voice as she claps from Coach’s other side 

You turn to Coach Mira and catch her smiling, something a player should be proud of cause that means she’s really pleased. 

That means Kyoutani must have been practicing and pulled it off only recently.

You smile as well, but it’s a bittersweet one. 

When you first came in and the gym lights hit your eyes, it seemed as if time hadn't moved from whence you left, preserved only for you and if you were really being honest, it almost felt like home.

That’s why you stayed and held onto the paperbag that’s now losing relevance.

These boys are no longer the same ones you left. They’re not exactly different, but changed. 

They’ve grown, and you couldn’t be any prouder even though you missed out on the last several months. 

The game continues and you watch attentively, just being present and taking it all in. You put down your bag and the paperbag you have so you can focus on the current practice match. You decide that you can overthink it later and just be in the moment because you’re not sure it’ll happen again. 

You clap when you want to. You cheer when someone makes a good play and it’s a breath of fresh air from all the paperwork, the research, the university requirements you’ve been doing. You even ask one of the new players’ name so you can commend him on the excellent serve he made. 

The whistle blows, signaling the end of the second match which ends up with both sides having a tie. There’s a small break then the third set begins. 

You see that Tsukishima’s side switches up the formation at the start of the third set, which means they’re probably trying out something new to counter the opposing side. What’s surprising though is that he’s the starting server. His serves suck. They’re okay but pretty common for a professional level. He’s basically just making sure that the ball gets in.

But maybe he’s improved his jump serves now. You’ll just have to see. You’re itching to cheer for him just to piss him off for old time’s sake but you stop yourself because you’re in no place to disrupt his focus. 

He gets behind the serving line and bounces the ball off  while waiting for the whistle, and when it does, he tosses the ball up. You think he tossed it a bit high but Tsukishima is tall. If he puts enough strength in his legs to jump, you believe he can hit it just right and send over the ball with enough power to pummel pass by the receivers who are standing far off the line. 

When you head the thud of his shoes against the floor, your eyes go wide and your grin spreads because you can tell by the sound of it, he will jump and hit that ball with every intention of doing so. 

The receivers realize this too from how they’re scurrying to cover the back but it was just too fast. The ball hits the floor, everyone looking at the line attendant for the call because you yourself are not sure if it was in or out. 

The line attendant, who’s probably a trainee, swings down his flag to signal that the ball is in.

Tsukishima’s team clobbers him for his successful serve while the rest claps for him. “Yeaaahh!!! Nice one, Tsukki!!” You scream out not to piss him off this time but because you really do think he did a great job. You clap with everybody else and watch them goof around a bit more before he gets into serving position. 

You tap your feet to channel your restlessness because you want him to do it successfully the second time. Before the go signal, his gaze flicks your way and with your current distance from him, his expression is unreadable. 

Maybe he was just looking at Coach. You can’t tell. 

Then he begins dribbling the ball again and sneers.

You raise a brow up, becoming certain that he was indeed looking at you just now. And that sneer is meant for you. 

What the fuck? You should be puzzled as to what that was, but you already know. The smartass is mocking you! You scoff and roll your eyes because wow. Is he really is that confident that he’ll get it in the second time around? You’re rooting for him of course, but come on. Jump serves are not easily mastered in just seven months. 

You cross your arms and wait for him to serve. Success or not, it’s a win-win situation. If he succeeds even by just getting the ball in with a good jump serve, that’s great because that means the first one wasn’t luck. If he fails, then good for you. You’ll feel good because he’s such a little shit. 

The whistle begins and you’re more invested in this second attempt of his. 

He does his previous approach but when he tosses the ball, it’s no longer as high. When jumps up, he only does it with one foot, making the serve more subdued. There’s almost no power in it, just hitting the ball. 

Wait, no. He didn’t hit the ball just for the sake of getting it across. As soon as his hand made contact with the ball, he immediately tips it forward with his palm open and wrists still. 

A jump float.

You look at the opposing side to see if they’re prepared for it and see that the three players from the back move forward to get it. “Mine!” One of the players calls out but in a split second of what was probably wrong decision-making from how unexpected the float serve is, he receives it with his arms forward. With the ball’s unpredictable trajectory, it drops to his left. He tries to save it but only manages to bounce it out of the court. 

An even louder uproar is heard and instead of rejoicing with them, you cackle.

He got you there. He totally got you. Not just you, but everyone. 

Your laughter erupts from your throat, reveling in your own amusement while everyone else pours praises to Tsukishima.

Something about the silly, shallow exchange between you and him is hilarious to you. Perhaps it's how childish it is or maybe it’s how he completely tricked everyone in the gym. 

For him to pull that one off is both impressive and satisfying. Tsukishima has always been the main defense of the team. He predicts, calculates, and counters the ball of the opposing team. He’s rarely in charge of the attack. It’s unusual for you to see him in the offense and give it his best. 

That’s great and all but what’s funny for you is witnessing his cheeky bastard self in its full glory when he’s in control of the ball.

“Y/n?”

You hear Coach’s confused voice beside you as your laugh ebbs away softly.

“Sorry,” you shake your head while composing yourself. Although, your smile still hasn’t left your lips. 

“I haven’t watched a game in months and I forgot how fun it is to see how a match plays out.” That’s true as well. All these improvement and new gameplays are heightened because you have not seen a game since your sudden resignation

Coach doesn't answer and turns back to the game once the whistle blows.

This time, Tsukishima is standing only one step back from the court. Obviously, he’s done for the night with his two previous serves and is back to his mediocre one. 

Yep. There he is - the Tsukishima everyone is used to. 

You hear Coach sigh beside you while you just shrug since you saw this coming. In his head, he probably had his win already and declared himself done for that rally. 

“Tsukishima. Get back there and do another jump serve!” Coach Mira screams which silences the whole court. He lowers his head then backs away a few steps as he’s told.

He does jump serve but you know that the effort is there but not really. The ball hits the net and falls on their side of the court, to no one’s surprise. 

Tsukishima’s team still pats his back and tells him to not mind it, even though he obviously doesn’t. Oh well, it can’t be helped. You didn’t expect him to suddenly give 200% percent, especially not for a practice match. Progress is there but you doubt the time passed was enough time to give Tsukishima’s attitude a 180 turn.

The match goes on and ends with Kogane’s team winning. 

Coach calls them in for a meeting and for one second, you hesitate if you should go somewhere else rather than there. The answer is easy - of course, you should. It’s nice of Coach to invite you to stand beside her and watch, but you know when to go. You’re not a part of the team so where you should be is at the visitors’ bench where the guests are sitting.

Everyone starts to walk to where you are and Shiro begins preparing the board for discussion points. “I’ll go over there now, Coach,” you give her an easy smile as you pick up the paper bag from the chair behind you. “If you were still with us, you’re the one who would’ve shouted instead of me.” Your smile dithers and you stand a little straighter from the remark. It wasn’t angry or resentful, but poignant. 

When you handed over your resignation, she did not really stop you. She didn’t persuade you to stay and she didn’t ask for the details either. You were so focused on yourself that you did not fully grasp how Coach took it. You knew she was disappointed because you were of importance to how the team functions, but from her smile just now, you could tell that it was more than just you being efficient. 

You can only nod with an apologetic smile, incapable of making a response to ease up the guilt that you’re not supposed to be feeling. You know that Coach’s intention wasn’t to make you feel bad. It just did.

“Join me for tea some time, alright?” She says with eyes softening briefly before turning cold again as she faces the team. She never gave you the chance to respond but you suppose that you owe her that. 

As you join the other visitors’ on the designated seats for them, you can feel a few gazes on your back but you pay them no mind.

You just watch them have their meeting, which is nothing unusual. What’s not usual is that you’re not there with them.

It’s odd but you suppose that’s because you’ve never seen team meetings from this distance.

Perhaps, a few months is too short of a time to truly forget what it’s like to handle the team you believed in. And that despite being lucky with your life’s turn of events, you miss it. 

It’s scary that you feel that way. 

You can’t miss something you already put in the past. It’s unfair to them and to your present.

Your heart beats a little faster and your hands begin to sweat. You’re extremely uncomfortable and the desire to leave is gripping.

But you won’t do that. Not this time. Not when they’ve welcomed you so warmly despite your abrupt absence.

They deserve better this time, even if this is just a menial, unplanned visit. You don’t know if you’ll visit again. Probably not, so you should leave properly with a proper greeting.

Besides, there’s still the paperbag in your hand. You need to settle that too.

The meeting is over in only a few minutes. Some of the players go to their guests while some help Shiro clean up. Since training is technically done, you go and deal with what you really came there for - return Tsukishima’s shirt.

You walk towards him without looking at anyone so they don’t get the idea to approach you. They can do that later but you need to hand over the paperbag first.

“Hey,” you call from behind him before he can enter the locker room. 

He slowly turns around, his gaze dragging down the floor before looking up to meet yours. “You’re here,” he announces in a dry tone that you know is meant to ask what you are doing there.

“Mmhmm,’ you acknowledge the impassing comment dismissively. “Thought I should give this back to you already,” you lift the bag to hand over the shirt.

He looks at it, obviously wondering what it is and if he should take it. You beat him to it and add, "It's your shirt from last time."

There’s a brief pause in time that only you two understood, a momentary flicker of memory where you were cornered by him against the sink of the bathroom. 

“You went here,” he begins as he takes the paper bag handle from your hand. “To return my shirt because you couldn’t wait til our next meeting,” he says as a matter of fact, no doubt and no question.

“Well… yeah.” What are you supposed to say? He is right on the spot. You just had to give it back, so there you are. 

He looks at you as if he’s weighing something, deciding if he should say it or not but settles on the latter as he responds with a dead, “Thanks.. I guess.”

Awkwardness is not something you often experience in life. It’s just not you. You always find a way to make light of the situation that dissipates awkwardness before it sets in. But as you two stand in front of each other, seemingly waiting for someone to say something, you feel it. This is awkward.

You can hear cricket noises between the two of you and you hate it.  You’ve already battled awkwardness with Kogane earlier that night. You’re not gonna do it again with Tsukishima. So you pull the corners of your lips to force a smile that shows both sets of your upper and lower teeth.

His face contorts with disgust. “Your face looks wrong,” he says immediately as he flinches away from you.

Your face relaxes into a sincere wide smile, a rich laugh replacing the trail of awkwardness with normalcy. “Great serve by the way,” you remark with ease as you recover. 

He looks back at the court then shrugs. “It’s fine,” he says nonchalantly, which makes you raise a brow. “It’s not just fine and you know it,” you chide back at him. Anyone who plays Volleyball knows that doing a well-executed jump serve and a jump float serve is work. Doing both consecutively is hard work. Who knew? Tsukishima works hard. 

Of course, you do. Despite the middle blocker’s indifference, he does work hard and work smart. 

Originally, you wanted to ask about what happened last time. The reason why his shirt sat so uncomfortable on your desk is because of that dangerous tension that was not supposed to be there. You want it addressed and put to rest. 

But you’re facing three problems with that - first is Tsukishima is not the most confrontational person there is. He’s not confrontational at all if you’ll be honest. You’d be a hammer pounding a broken nail if you question him. You can see it already. 

Second is, you both seem like you’ll be fine now. There was just a fleeting flash of what happened and despite the awkwardness, it’s already fading - seeming irrelevant by each passing word uttered by the two of you. 

If you ask Tsukishima about it now, things might just get worse. And more importantly, this is not the right place. This is the gym. Things like what occurred in one of the museum bathrooms must never be discussed inside the corners of this gym. That implicit rule still stands. 

So you have nothing more to say to Tsukishima but good job with his serve. “Email me when you’re free, alright? We need to work on the paper again.” You give him an adequate smile then turn around to leave him be. You don’t want anyone witnessing you two talking too long. You bet you already have some eyes on you two so best to keep it short. 

As you face the other way, you see Kyoutani walking in your direction. You flash him a friendly grin then let him walk by on the way to the locker where Tsukisihima was headed. However, he didn’t pass you by as you thought he would. He stopped in front of you, his features muddy with confusion as he stands in front of you. “Kyou-kun?”

 If you were an outsider, you’d think he’s mad about something with how his brows are furrowed in one line. But you know Kyoutani and what he looks like to you is figuring out what he wants to say.

You form a small smile, patiently waiting for him to get it out. “What is it, Kyou-kon?” You coo sweetly to ease him into saying whatever it is.

The crease in his forehead smoothens a bit as he looks down briefly before meeting your gaze again. “Are you coming back?”

Your smile freezes before it slowly melts into a melancholic one. “I’m just here to visit.”

He maintains his expression, allowing only a second of sadness to show before nodding. That’s when you truly felt bad. Kyoutani looks so rough on the outside but once he begins warming up to someone, he’s actually a softie.

You figured that someone might ask if you had plans of coming back to manage the team, and it’s not so implausible for that to happen because there’s no new manager that replaced you. Only Shiro is still there. 

You decide to let it go and stop holding back. You laugh it off and skip closer to pull him for a tight hug. “I missed you though!”’

You physically feel him stiffen in the hug, his arms flailing at a respectful distance from you body. “Y/n?!” he sounds scandalized but doesn’t push you off.

You pat his back while giggling, relishing the moment because you only experience it only in that gym, only with the Sendai Frogs. 

You pull away and put your arms on your hips with a relieved smile. More than happy to be back, you feel glad to just let yourself be and be glad around them rather than choose the guilt to win over. 

His eyes widen when you draw back. “Wait! I still.. Uhh. I didn’t hug you back!” He sounds too panicked that he almost yelled it out. 

You feign a pout then look at the side before grinning again. “Huggie time is up though,” you giggle again then add. “Nice feign by the way.” You pat his arm then give him an assertive smile. “The other teams will shit themselves when they see you use it next game.”

“T-thanks,” he stutters, which earns him a head pat from you before you walk away, seeing the members you know ganging up on Kyoutani as soon as you leave his side. Oh, how you missed that. With your current job, you can’t act as such because some students, specifically your students who are close to your age, might misconstrue it. 

With a wide grin matching yours, Eiji approaches you. “If it isn’t the elusive manager,” he comments as he walks closer.

“Not as elusive as I thought, apparently,” you humor back before pausing in front of him.

“Aww. Don’t say that. I felt like a stalker trying to find your social media accounts, okay?” he says affably as he tucks a ball between his waist and arm.

“Oh, I’m so so so sorry,” you lose the sassiness even though he’s so amicable about it. Of course, you feel bad but the longer you stay and the more you talk to them, the easier it gets - the verglas of your guilt exposing itself right before gradually dissolving its pieces away.

“I was going through some personal stuff at the time and I had to deactivate all of my social media accounts.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it! We were only worried but Coach told us the same thing you said just now,” he gives you a reassuring smile then pats your shoulder. “And of course, I missed you too.”

You squint your eyes and coil your neck back as you measure him. “You’re not hitting on me, are you?” 

He blinks repeatedly, like he’s still trying to process what you just said. Then his face goes into a tiny journey of being perplexed, scandalized, to embarrassment. 

“I’m totally kidding!” You take back your joke immediately with laughter bubbling in your voice. You realize that you’ve never really bantered with Eiji that way since he’s the team captain. There was some sort of camaraderie between you two  from keeping the team in check. So you’ve never given him that kind of treatment before. 

And from how he acted, you conclude that he doesn’t take it well.

He sighs then smiles unsurely. “You’re scary, Y/n,” he says right to your face, which makes you laugh harder. You’ve been called many things, but this is the first time you’ve been deemed as scary. And frankly, you love it.

“Thanks! I was worried I’ve been coming off as approachable,” you answer jokingly.

“Bet you still shoo poor, oblivious boys.”

You only shrug it off because you don’t really shoo them. Not blatantly at least. They just can’t handle how fun you are.

“Then you owe me. I met someone who’s apparently not shooable and is decent enough.” You think of your bedheaded boyfriend who isn’t fazed in any way by your craziness.

“Really?” Eiji’s eyes brighten up then smiles as his eyes glisten with both amusement and fascination. “That’s..” He glances at the exit and his expression twists a little, still fascinated but thinking of something else at the same time, “…wow.” 

“What?” Your brows crinkle from what he could be suddenly thinking about. 

“It’s nothing. I just remembered a rumor going around after you left.”

“You guys were talking about me?” You’re used to people talking about you behind your back, in front of you, from all sides actually, but you’re curious as to what this rumor is.

“No, not you.” He pauses then retracts. “Well, actually, yeah. We kept wondering where you went. But the rumor wasn’t about you. It’s about Tsukishima.”

Now you’re even more curious. What happened to the blonde after you left?

“Congratulations though, y/n. Who’s the lucky guy?” He asks with a wide smile and you reciprocate with a dry one, pressing your lips together as you shoot one brow up. 

“You’re really expecting me to tell you after that hanging rumor about Tsukishima?” 

Eiji chuckles then eyes the locker room, probably checking for any hints on the blocker getting out.

“I’ll pretend we’re having small talk if he comes out,” you assure him then step closer and gaze at the Captain like a landlady collecting his due rent.

He complies as he looks at you and speaks in a hushed voice. “Tsukishima got dumped.”

You had to pause, clear your head, and ask, “What?” Because there is no way anyone will believe that. First and foremost, Tsukishima lacks the emotional capability to enter a relationship. 

“Like actually dumped by an actual person?” You ask dumbfoundedly. You could’ve phrased it better but shocking revelations merit uncoordinated phrases.

“We think so. Yeah.”

You frown skeptically because Eiji doesn’t sound so convincing. 

“He was distracted during training. He’s always checking his phone. Sometimes, he would get this blank expression on his face that I can’t figure out what, until I realized that he actually looked sad. Oh and he’s always the last person to leave, as if he’s waiting for someone.”

“This was when exactly?”

You’re not sure how to react. A huge part of you is skeptical because this is Tsukishima they’re talking about. You can’t imagine him getting in a real relationship based on love and all the cheesy shit that comes with it. No. Not Tsukishima. 

What Eiji is saying are purely observations.

Maybe Tsukishima just trains a bit longer than everybody else, hence being the last one to leave.

“Right after you left.”

That’s .. That’s impossible. After that tug of war you two had going on just because he forsakes to feel anything serious for you, he went and jumped into a relationship? That fast? 

No. You don’t believe it. Seeing Tsukishima as he is right now, he still looks like he’s full of the shit he had when you left. People like Tsukishima don’t change that quickly. 

“One night, I forgot something in the locker and I went back. I overheard him saying ‘Pick up’ while aggressively pressing his phone. It was weird seeing him like that. Oh and there was even a time he asked about you. He wasn’t himself at all,” Eiji adds, fixing the frame of perspective from which you were looking at. 

He didn’t get dumped. 

You left. 

He waited there in the gym specifically because you used to be the last person in court who would close it. You left and you didn’t allow him to reach you. 

The corner of your mouth twitches before a cynical laugh comes out.

Even if the thought of Tsukishima missing you fits Eiji’s narrative, you don’t want to believe it nor further entertain it. 

Whoever tried to reach you or whatnot, you wanted them not to. It doesn’t matter if Tsukishima did try to. You didn’t want to know then and you still don’t want to know now. Whatever you two had, it was him who ended it. It wasn’t you. Whatever happened after is no longer your concern.

So there’s no space for any lingering guilt.

“I’m telling the truth!” Eiji persists and you just brush it off with cruel amusement. “Uh huh. If that is true, I bet that that would’ve been a nice summer vacation for that cold, freezing heart of his.”

As you dismiss the thought, you also realize that no one in the team figured two and two together. That’s how unlikely you and Tsukishima were to be together. Despite how his suspicious actions coincide with your departure, no one suspected anything.

“I think he was even going to ask for advice from you if you hadn’t left since you were our only girl here.”

Your brows shoot up, your eyes growing wide as your jaw drops with a slight tug of the corner of your mouth from what he insinuated. Tsukishima.. asking you for advice? On what? How to move on from you even though he’s the one who didn’t want to be with you?

Now, that is pure comedy.

You take a deep breath then wheeze from laughter as you heavily pat his shoulder. “You’re so funnehhh.”

“Ha ha. Keep laughing. Now tell me who you’re dating,” he looks at you, a little embarrassed but more so curious about what he brought up. 

You almost forgot all about that.

“It’s nice to see you, Eiji, but I have to go now. I just handed something to Tsukishima. Work-related.” You give him a wide smile, deliberately withholding additional information about your dating life. 

“Wha–”

“Bye,” you wave once before turning around and walking over to Coach to bid your goodbye. 

It’s not like you don’t want to announce that Kuroo is your boyfriend. It just so happens that your boyfriend has a title “Japanese Volleyball Association” attached to his name. Now that you know that some of the Frogs have been closely affiliated with Kuroo, you don’t want them coming up to him asking ‘Where’s Y/n?’ or anything related to you.

Tonight was only an accidental visit. Boundaries are still set.

--

TIP JAR