Heartbreaker? Pfffsh...
Throwing Stones At Crows
Daichi's neutral smile, something he prided himself on, was becoming strained.
The Smile™ usually appeared only appeared in times of need; when exchanging pleasantries with a person he didn't really see eye to eye with, or during interactions with rival volleyball teams. It was the thin, controlled smile of an adolescent who was clearly done with whatever – whomever – they were interacting with, and perfected over years of watching extremely stressed adults deliver the same expression.
Daichi Sawamura was tired, okay? This latest batch of first years were more troublesome than Daichi had anticipated. He had hoped however that sweet little Yachi – seeing as she was one of the more mature first years to have joined the club – would be less of a headache.
This had proven not to be true for a variety of reasons, two of which were stood right next to the quaking girl right now.
Sometimes Daichi just wanted to take Suga to the side, or somewhere far, far away from the Karasuno gym, and ask him where they went so wrong raising their kids. (Because of course Kōshi was responsible for this mess just as much as he was.)
Catching the back of a riled-up Tanaka's collar with his hand, Daichi turned his attention (and inanely killer smile) onto Oikawa. "I had no idea you'd met Yachi-Chan. After all, she wasn't at our first game."
"It's a good thing she wasn't really otherwise she would have-" Oikawa began, only to receive a punch to the back from Iwaizumi.
Shaking out his fist, Iwaizumi clarified that the pair had only met Hitoka yesterday, and that Oikawa (as per usual) had rushed off ahead before thinking. And he had opened his treacherous mouth.
Daichi was partially placated, but this didn't clear up the fact that two notable (and that was putting it lightly, Oikawa's serve was top-notch) volleyball players were fraternising with their manager-in-training. A manager who, up until about a month and a half ago, jumped at her own shadow.
People could be drawn to the oddest of people, and Daichi knew you couldn't help who you fell for sometimes, but why Hitoka? Kiyoko he could understand – Kiyoko had the face, quiet mannerisms, and a personality that would click with Oikawa's own. Kiyoko was power-couple material. Hitoka? Not so much. Not that Daichi had anything against who she fell for, but Hitoka dating Oikawa would be like throwing a sacrificial lamb to a very hungry wolf.
And what was that about the two of them vying for her hand?
"You met our secondary manager yesterday, and now you're pestering her?" Daichi's smile did not waver. He felt Tanaka straining against his hand, so Daichi tightened his fingers around the collar of the second year's jacket.
Oikawa beamed. "It's not pestering if she likes it!"
All eyes turned to Hitoka. She swallowed harshly, mouth parched and unwilling to give an answer.
"I think that says everything, Oikawa-San," Daichi told Aobajōsai's Captain politely. "We were going to head back to the store Yachi-Chan, if you're interested."
Hitoka nodded. She would just have to try and speak with Oikawa and Iwaizumi later without the rest of her team present; anything she tried to do now would either be used as ammunition to further antagonise Karasuno or seen as a betrayal by the latter. Following the team back to Ukai's family store to avoid further confrontation was the sensible option.
Oikawa would know when to not throw stones at crows, right?
"That sounds great, I could do with a pick-me-up," Oikawa announced. "What about you Iwa-Chan?"
(Hitoka wanted to scream. Oikawa had never received the memo that crows could hold insanely long grudges it would seem.)
Iwaizumi's face was pinched (more so than usual whenever Oikawa talked), and wordlessly he stepped alongside Oikawa as Aobajōsai's Captain followed the rest of the team back down the hill. Hitoka dragged her feet, Kōshi petting her arm softly for moral support; he too felt uneasy about this.
Hinata, finished stuffing his face for the moment and with cheeks that resembled a hamster than a teenage boy, almost choked on the nikuman he'd been chewing through. "Eh? Grand King is here?!"
The orange-haired teen's knees had locked together in surprise. Walking past him on their way back to Ukai's store, Kōshi ruffled Hinata's wild tousle of curls.
"Never change, Hinata," he told the teen. Squaring his shoulders in preparation and sparing a glance to Hitoka (the girl was near-vibrating from fear), Kōshi steeled himself for the inevitable; if the Karasuno team and Hitoka made it through this meeting without damaging Coach Ukai's store, someone walking away with a new nose-job, or Hitoka's chances of ever completing her set target list being crushed it would be a miracle.
Plus, Kōshi was certain Daichi was suspicious around him. Kōshi had after all tried to hold the team back in their pursuit of checking on Hitoka. He was fairly sure there would be a great deal of 'talking' to be done between himself and the Captain later.
Trying to maintain a strong image in front of their opponents, maintaining Daichi's trust in him as the Vice Captain of the club, all while keeping Hitoka and Kiyoko's covert managerial tasks secret… it was all becoming too much for Kōshi to bear. Something would have to give eventually.
Hitoka supposed she could call this her second date if she went along with what Oikawa had said to her yesterday. From what her 'friends' in middle school had told her, and those in her high school class who's tried dating before, dates were supposed to be full of enjoyment and good fluttery feelings.
The only fluttery feeling Hitoka was feeling was anxiety, and it wasn't pleasant at all.
Oikawa was unfazed, as was Iwaizumi; both sat in the cramped plastic chairs inside Coach Ukai's family store. Hitoka sat with them, an untouched can of juice sat on the table before her. The Karasuno Boys Volleyball Team (well, those who hadn't escaped before Daichi had gone to investigate Hitoka's strange behaviour) were dotted around the store – reading magazines, pretending to peruse through the items for sale on the shelves, or outright staring at the trio sat at the table.
Coach Ukai himself had lit another cigarette (for the umpteenth time that day), resigning himself to taking languid drags and flicking the ash almost threateningly from the tip into his overflowing ashtray. He didn't really understand what the fuss was all about, but the moment those boys (and Hitoka) pushed away other potential customers, he'd have to intervene and kick them all outside.
Hitoka fisted her hands on top her knees, shoulders tense.
"These are good," Oikawa sounded delighted with the bite of nikuman he had taken. Hinata's mouth watered, stomach growling, much to the dismay of the boys who'd just finished paying off Hinata's tab. "Not as good as milk bread, but still delicious."
Iwaizumi grunted in affirmation. He didn't seem to be all that picky of an eater; Oikawa had split open his own pork bun – revelling in the layers of dough and filling. Unlike his other half ('better half' Oikawa would argue), Iwaizumi bit strait into the steaming bun. The two couldn't be more different, Hitoka marvelled. One revelled in mind games and the other couldn't be more to the point.
"So, Hoshi-Chan," Oikawa idly licked the grease off his finger tips after not being able to locate a napkin. "How are you finding our date so far?"
Hitoka felt like she was trapped in goldfish bowl, what with all staring. Perhaps, a better analogy would be she felt like a tasty morsel being pecked at by two plucky pigeons. Meanwhile a flock of hungry crows watched on – waiting for their opportunity to strike.
"G-great," Hitoka stammered falsely.
Iwaizumi snorted. "No need to lie, this is a shitty second date." He nodded his chin at an oblivious Oikawa, "I'd have lamped him one already if I were you."
Luckily, I'm not you, Hitoka thought dryly. Violence hadn't been her first thought when dealing with Tōru Oikawa, and as a peaceful (read: deathly afraid) person Hitoka would rather use her words than her fists any day. Or just run. Running away from your problems usually worked if you had enough stamina.
"We all really – really enjoy Ukai-San's nikuman," she told her 'dates'. A muttered 'Glad to hear it,' could be heard from behind the counter. "So, it's nice to see Oikawa-San and Iwaizumi-San enjoying them too."
They probably hadn't put too much thought behind savouring the taste. If either of the pair from Aobajōsai were like Hinata, they ate first and questioned the flavour later. When it was repeating on them most likely, and nothing – not even the strongest breath mints on the market – could mask the faint oniony tang left on the palate from the sauce.
"You can just call us Tōru and Hajime, Hoshi-Chan," Oikawa crooned. He was taking far too much delight in ruffling some feathers.
An attack of raging hormones yesterday really couldn't have resulted in this disaster, could it? Maybe the events of the last forty-eight hours were all the product of a fever dream, and Hitoka would wake soon sweaty and deranged in her bed? She tried to subtly pinch the skin of her thigh underneath the table.
Nothing happened. She was lucid, and this was really happening.
(Guardian Deity preserve her soul, this had to be one of the most – if not the most – mortifying things to have happened in her life; and Hitoka had done and had some mortifying things happen during her short sixteen years.)
Hitoka could actual feel the assembled Karasuno players and Coach Ukai bristling at Oikawa's forwardness. It was a palpable tension; a shift in the air that was slowly beginning to choke Hitoka the quicker her heart jackhammered in her chest.
Was satisfying her curiosity (and her hormones) really worth it?
No. Hitoka shook her head. It really wasn't. She'd speak with Kiyoko over the phone if the third year was free and ask about changing her Flirt target – because this really wasn't working, nor was it worth the upset. (Hitoka, in retrospect, wasn't sure why she'd thought it would work in the first place. Hormones, hormones…)
"Oika- Tōru-San, Ha-Hajime-San," she started. "You're very ni-nice people, but I… I don't think I can do this."
"Circling birds putting you off?" Tōru queried, his voice sweet but the underlying meaning of his question bitter.
Hajime lowered his head, eyes dropping closed. "No, Shittykawa, it's probably just you."
Hajime Iwaizumi, for all his gruff exterior, was really quite perceptive: "You're not enjoying this at all, are you? Don't worry about it, Yachi-San. I know he's a pain," Iwaizumi told her. "But he's my pain."
"I'm really sorry," Hitoka whispered. "But I don't think I'm… ready, for suh-such a big commitment."
Daichi, who had been peering over one of the shelves inside the store in order to watch the trio closer, deflated in relief. Kōshi, who had been stood next to the Captain the entire time (exerting far more discretion and a little interest in a packet of instant ramen noodles) sighed gently. The crisis, it would seem, had been momentarily averted.
"It's fine, Hoshi-Chan," Oikawa didn't seem surprised at her answer. Perhaps he'd knew all along that she'd been caught up in his flow the day prior – having been used to Iwaizumi relenting to most of his whims – and that she would chicken out when it came to her making a decision.
"Keep in touch though," Hajime amended. "This one talks to me all the time about that space-stuff and I don't understand a word of it. Might keep him entertained if he has someone to vent to about aliens."
"They're real, Iwa-Chan," Tōru protested hotly, fists clamping to his side. "They're real and they are out there, impersonating people's dogs and meddling with corn fields."
"Why would they be impersonating dogs?" Iwaizumi grumbled.
"Why wouldn't they be?!" Oikawa bit back. Coughing, Tōru slicked a hand through his artfully tousled hair. "I think it would be prudent if we left Hoshi-Chan and Karasuno with just a taster of our special moves, no? For when we trounce them and Shiratorizawa before the Nationals?"
Hajime blinked. "Whatever."
"Just follow my lead, okay Iwa-Chan?"
The two stood from their chairs, nodding gratefully to Coach Ukai for allowing them to use the seats. Shifting around the table's edge to stand either side of Hitoka, Hajime made to mirror Tōru's actions; leaning closer to the dithering girl.
"The Grand King's special move?" Hinata gawped, both he and Kageyama shuffling closer to the central table in anticipation.
"We call this one the 'Peck Kill'," Tōru winked to a starstruck Hinata, ignoring Daichi's confused mutter of 'Peck?'. "Ready Iwa-Chan?"
Hajime was slower to move than Tōru, more hesitant than his overly confident Captain, but both leant closer to Hitoka's face – lips pressing onto both of her blushing cheeks with precision. Many of the Karasuno players squawked in indignation.
"Nice kill," Hajime congratulated Tōru.
(Kōshi made a mental note to buy Kiyoko some grape juice.)
A/N [17/7/2018] : Thank you for following me through the past twenty one chapters. I'm going to take a week off now (I have my Graduation Ceremony on Friday, aaAaaAArgh!), but I'll see you on 25/7/2018. We'll be on the home straight then! (Only nine chapters left, ohmygosh-) This honestly has to be the fastest I've pumped out chapters for a full-length story. It really has. Mental.
Anyway, thank you again for reading, following, favouriting, and for reviewing. You dudes are the best, and your comments always make me smile!