So I've started shipping KurooTsukki. Deal with it.
The day started off like any other.
As soon as Yamamoto walked into the gym, fresh out of the showers, he noticed a girl sitting by herself on the bleachers. And a very pretty girl at that. She was fiddling with her phone, occasionally glancing up, her eyes flickering around the room. She was obviously looking – or waiting – for someone, and it was plain that she wouldn't be leaving until she did.
So Yamamoto did what he normally did in the presence of a pretty girl – he turned and bolted back into the shower room. No one could have missed the bright red flush on his cheeks.
Yaku looked up, startled, as the wing spiker came hurtling back into the locker room.
"Yamamoto? What's wrong?"
"I-I-It's a-a-a-a –"
"Speak up! You sound like a frog's stuck in your throat!"
"It's a girl!"
The whole room erupted into snickers and guffaws.
"Yes, Yamamoto, there are girls in our school. Surely you've seen them around. I believe there are some in your class." Yaku prayed for patience as he folded up his jersey neatly.
If I pray for strength, I'll use it to smash Yamamoto's head into the lockers… Though that does sound tempting…
"But she's different! This one's really pretty! She's… She's like a model o-or something!"
Yaku stared at him, a vein throbbing in his neck.
"A model. Really?"
"Well, she's blonde, and tall, and –"
Yaku didn't stop to hear the rest of Yamamoto's explanation, peering out of the locker room door to see who this girl was. The rest of the team followed, wondering just how pretty the girl really was, to have gotten Yamamoto all tongue tied like that.
It was easy to find her. She was the most striking girl in the room – tall and ribbon-slim, with a long spill of blonde hair that tumbled down to her waist in a fine, golden sheet. Her skin was pale and unblemished, as smooth as the surface of a bowl of cream. She looked bored too, her hands fluttering like nervous butterflies from her phone to her black framed glasses. Even in a simple outfit consisting of a white button down shirt, a denim mini skirt, black stretch leggings and hiking boots, she was still the prettiest girl in the room, if the glares from the other girls were anything to go by.
"Well, she is pretty, I'll give her that much." Yaku examined the girl critically, with the eye of a photographer, taking in her slender build and hand span waist.
"She looks familiar…" Kai frowned thoughtfully, rubbing his chin absently.
"Ooo~ Senpai! Is she a model?" Yamamoto perked up; already busy daydreaming about the perks of being a model's boyfriend.
"No, I don't think – "
"I hate to break it to you, Yamamoto, but she's out of your league." Fukunaga deadpanned, shaking his head as he buttoned up his shirt.
"WHAT!" Yamamoto yelled so loudly the window panes rattled.
Kenma, who was already dressed, shot Yamamoto a look that could have cut diamonds. The boy was absorbed in his game, and Yamamoto's loud screech had nearly caused him to drop his phone.
"Be quiet." He stated coldly, turning his attention back to his flashing screen. "She's probably Kuroo's girlfriend."
"What?!"
This time, it wasn't just Yamamoto who shouted; the whole team joined in as well, their voices blending together to create a cacophony of disbelief, shock, and horror.
Kenma nearly jumped a foot into the air.
"Must you be so loud?" He demanded, finally accepting the fact that he could no longer play in peace.
"When did that happen?!" Yaku demanded, his mouth dropping open in surprise.
"Oh, oh, but isn't the Captain, like, super popular?!" Inuoka demanded, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet, looking up at his seniors expectantly.
"He is," Yaku answered, choosing his next words carefully. "But he's always turned down the girls who confess to him, so we thought he was…"
"- Gay?" Lev, deciding that now would be a good time to make his presence known, interrupted. "Who for?"
When the whole team stared at him, as if they were thinking, Dear Lord, how can he be so dense, Lev cottoned on.
"Oh. Ohhhh. So he was gay for K –" Realization dawned, but Yaku quickly clapped a hand over the taller boy's mouth before he could finish his sentence.
Kenma's face soured. He had apparently gotten it. "Finish that sentence. I dare you."
He sounded so un-Kenma like that not even Lev was fool enough to provoke him any further.
"But if what Kenma says is true, then -" Kai shrugged his broad shoulders.
Yamamoto started bawling miserably. "Why does Captain get all the girls?!"
"Maybe if you changed your hairstyle?" Lev suggested, giving his senior a good once-over.
"Or your face." Fukunaga sniped, much to Yamamoto's growing dismay.
"- We were wrong." Yaku shrugged as well, ignoring the snivelling Yamamoto.
"Wrong about what?" A familiar voice demanded. "And for the love of volleyball, what is Yamamoto crying about this time?"
Kuroo had sauntered out of the showers, his usual self-assured grin in place. The faint smell of vanilla and cinnamon enveloped him like a cloud.
"You sure are taking your time." Yaku commented.
The smile never faltered in the least. "What?"
"Your girlfriend's here, Captain." Shibayama explained. "And she looks angry."
"What? Who are you talking about?" Kuroo's face was completely blank; a perfect poker face.
"You know – blondie!" Yamamoto yanked his captain by the arm, dragging him over to the slightly ajar door.
"Her!" Yamamoto squawked, gesticulating wildly at the girl, who heaved her bag onto her shoulder, a scowl on her pretty face as she prepared to leave.
"Oh. Her." Kuroo smirked – his stupid, seductive smirk that made girls faint and straight guys gay.
The kind that Yamamoto could never do without looking like he had constipation.
"Oi, Tsukki-chan!" He hollered, sauntering casually out the locker room, with nothing but a towel around his waist.
"That idiot!" Yaku hissed. "What, does he think we're the Nekoma High Strip Club or something?!"
Yamamoto's face lit up. "D'you think I'd be able to get a girl if I stripped?"
"No, Shimizu-san will most likely slap you and call you a pervert," Kai nodded sagely, bursting Yamamoto's bubble in one statement.
Shibayama looked puzzled, his eyebrows furrowing. "I thought we were the Nekoma High Volleyball Club."
"We are!"
"I've never been to one before, Yaku-san." Lev complained rather loudly, to Yaku's chagrin.
"Uh, duh, you're underage." Fukunaga whispered back.
"No, senpai, Lev could totally pass for 18 if he tried." Inuoka murmured back, taking the hint and lowering his voice. "Like, he could be smoking cigarettes and taking drugs for all we know."
Yaku found the thought rather worrying, but decided to leave the matter be. For now.
"He must really like this girl if he's trying to impress her this much." Kai observed suspiciously.
The team had crowded around the door, peeking out in stepladder fashion.
All the girls on the bleachers screamed their lungs out the moment they saw a soaking wet Kuroo in all of his half-naked glory. Even 'Tsukki' had a hard time recomposing herself.
Kuroo's dark hair was still wet from the shower, and instead of his usual chaotic bedhead that stuck up in spikes, his hair hung down to his shoulders in a gleaming, conditioned inky sheet. Rivulets of water ran down a truly impressive set of deltoids and pecs, not to mention some rock-hard abs that redefined the term six-pack. In fact, if Yamamoto could have gotten some muscle definition like that, he had no doubt that a certain manager would have been eating out of his hand months ago.
"Kuroo-san, it seems you've forgotten your shirt." She sniped out, her harsh words doing little to conceal the fact that her face was burning the same shade of red as the Nekoma jersey.
"I know." He answered, leaning in close, his dark eyes practically smouldering. "But I was under the impression that you liked it that way. Or was I wrong?" He asked, his voice a seductive purr.
"Kuroo-san, we are in public, could you not –"
"Not what?" He breathed, his mouth against the curve of her neck.
"Kuroo-san, I am not above castrating you in public." Tsukki managed to get out, her voice deadly soft, not made any less unconvincing by her punchy breathing. "Kindly stop sexually harassing me and go get changed."
"Aw, you're no fun, Tsukki," Kuroo sent one last leer in her direction, before stepping away to return to the locker room.
"He's coming!" Kai whispered, and instantly, everybody scrambled away from the door, trying – and failing – to act like all was right in the world.
"What?" Kuroo demanded, finding himself in a locker room as silent as a graveyard. "Is there something on my face?"
Yaku looked scandalized, not meeting Kuroo's eyes as he fanned his face with one hand, pink threatening to take over his pale complexion. A dejected Yamamoto could only glower silently at his Captain. Fukunaga muttered something that sounded suspiciously like, "Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned". Shibayama and Lev developed sudden coughing fits while Kai only shook his head, resigned to his captain's less-than-stellar behaviour. Kenma had his usual nonchalant expression, only looking up from his game to arch an eyebrow at Kuroo.
"You didn't tell me you had a date."
"Nah, Tsukki couldn't get enough of me, so she had to come and see me in person." He flashed Kenma a grin, taking a pair of well-worn denim jeans out of his bag.
"No, you bugged her too much, so she caved and came down to Tokyo-" Kenma stated tartly, and Kuroo choked.
"You don't have to tell them that!"
"-All the way from Miyagi, too." Kenma continued, ignoring his friend's protests.
Yamamoto was sure this was payback for the 'I-am-gay-for-Kuroo' thing. Kenma was clearly still pissed, and was venting his spleen on Kuroo. Yamamoto didn't know about the rest of the team, but he for one, swore to never rub Kenma the wrong way again.
"Wait. Miyagi? So she's from Karasuno?" Kai asked, slinging his bag over his shoulder.
"Mm. She's their middle blocker. Number 11." Kenma mumbled, tilting the screen slightly to the left as his thumbs tapped out a rapid pattern on the key board.
"What?!" Yamamoto squawked. "But I didn't see a hot blonde chick there!"
Yaku, still fanning his face, frowned. "She was there. Remember the girl with her hair in a bun?"
Yamamoto's brow furrowed, and a crease appeared in the centre of his forehead.
He vaguely remembered seeing a tall and leggy blonde, her tangled curls tied into an unruly knot at the nape of her neck.
"How did I not notice a cute girl in Karasuno?!"
"It's probably because you were too busy paying attention to Shimizu-san." Inuoka chipped in, waving goodbye to his senpai as he bounced out the gym.
Yamamoto's ego – and his heart - shattered into a dozen irreparable shards.
Kuroo stepped out of the changing room, his jeans hanging low on his hips, showing the deep indentations above his hipbones, as if someone had pressed their fingers to the skin there. The combination of black motorcycle jacket, sneakers and white, skin-tight T-shirt was fairly badass, Yamamoto admitted grudgingly. Kuroo's hair was beginning to regain its trademark unruliness, and his shit-eating grin was back in place.
"Tsukki! Miss me?"
"No."
"Aw, you're so mean." He leaned in to kiss her, snaking his arm around her waist, dragging her to him with a possessiveness that seemed to surprise her, if the little gasp she let out was any indication.
"Awkward." Fukunaga muttered, tearing his eyes away from the happy couple who were currently making out on the volleyball court.
And when their Captain started to unbutton the front of Tsukki's blouse, exposing the silken skin of her chest, Yaku decided to put a stop to the polluting of innocent minds.
"KUROO TETSUROU. EITHER YOU GET A ROOM, OR CONTROL YOUR TESTOSTERONE OR I WILL PERSONALLY CIRCUMSTATE YOU."
Kuroo paused long enough to make a face at Yaku, whose holler was loud enough to be heard from behind a three-inch thick door.
"Yeah, Mom. I got it. I'll be back late, so don't wait up."
"KUROO TETSUROU, I SWEAR –"
Kuroo was cackling as he walked off with his girlfriend, and Yaku found himself wishing for the umpteenth time, that his captain would act his age.
No… If Kuroo started acting all mature, it'd probably start snowing in summer…
Yaku sighed.
"Sugawara-san, I feel your pain."