Disclaimer: Haikyuu! belongs entirely to Haruichi Furudate, I only own the OC character, nothing else.

This fic follows the manga, so if you do not want spoilers past the anime episodes, read with caution!

Chapter 25: Soon They'll Know Your Name

Hello, another chapter! It's been a rough couple months, but I had this sort of as a skeleton for a while and wanted to flesh it out for uploading! The omakes are pretty long so it makes for an extra long chapter!

Sugawara's eyes glazed over, the Volleyball Monthly magazine in Apollonia's grasp was quickly crinkling, already well-read but still she pored over it as if committing every article to memory. Daichi mocked him with a click of his tongue, and mirrored his pinched face. Apollonia didn't stir when Sugawara shamelessly kicked his chair and slid him towards the window.

"I can't believe you met him," he chirped, albeit strained, "and in such a casual way!"

Apollonia's face fell slack, the subject still as raw and fresh and mortifying as it was the day before.

"I didn't think that he was the… courteous type," Daichi added, scooting back to his desk. "He actually sounds kind of normal."

The choked noise in the back of her throat further pressed that her "fated meeting" (as Sugawara goaded) with Ushijima was a topic that was best left alone. It was a scenario of coincidence, one that was better taken at face value, lest she be wrapped up in the nuances of seeing Miyagi's most prized Ace engaging in an activity that wasn't volleyball. He was just shopping; all of the intensity, the guttural strength and poetics that armored him were nothing more than an illusion of over-hype and well-written articles.

Still, his track record on paper was nothing short of extraordinary, and tearing that away from the Wakatoshi she met in the grocery store wasn't exactly easy. He screamed, 'Absolute Ace,' just as Oikawa screamed, 'King.' But both were still just students, just as she was.

Apollonia pulled an older issue checked out from the library, and flipped to the spread with Seijou, all caught in a semi-posed walk off the court, likely after a match gauging by how much sweat shone off them. The next page was a full portrait of Oikawa, the same swept, coffee hair, an effortlessly executed smile, and both hands held up with peace signs. His feature sounded so 'Oikawa,' despite being written and edited by others; somehow Apollonia could just hear his voice as it commended his teammates and their combined efforts. A response both rehearsed, but genuine, and was almost perfectly diplomatic if not for his cheekiness.

Sugawara or Daichi must have said something, judging by the expectant look on their faces - a mix of impatience and disenchantment that Apollonia wasn't being responsive.

"Are you going to use your magic Finnish powers to find out their weaknesses for us," Sugawara repeated. Daichi laughed that Apollonia could look so appalled.

"We studied them in our first year when Oikawa's article came out," he sighed, "but reading them just kind of leaves you feeling intimidated."

Apollonia knew the feeling.

Sugawara snatched the magazine and flipped through them for himself, though never really looked at the pages. "I'm surprised Oikawa hasn't had more articles. Ushiwaka has practically been a posterchild for this magazine since Middle School. He has like… four, dual-page articles? But he's mentioned in pretty much every issue in some way."

Apollonia's eyebrow raised. "Was Karasuno ever written?"

"Mmm… I think Hiroki-san was mentioned once," Daichi answered. "We're usually just blurbs, if we're lucky."

"I'm sure there were some special issues when the Little Giant was popular." Sugawara clicked his tongue and closed the magazines, crossing his arms over them so Apollonia would have no other choice but to pay attention to both of them. "Wouldn't it be cool if we got our own article," he hummed, "like a comeback story."

A flash crossed his eye for a moment as he winked at her, something soft to change the color, and something sharp that invited a sudden rush of adrenaline to wash through Apollonia. His lips upturned in a curious way.

"Yeah," Daichi chuckled, "Everyone loves those."

While navigating their way to practice, Sugawara pulled out his phone and opened it to a media page that Apollonia was unfamiliar with, to a picture she only vaguely remembers him taking. Sugawara held the screen closer to jog her memory.

"When Hinata-kun gave us weeds thinking they were flowers?"

Sugawara affirmed her with a hissing laugh, still amused at the first year's plight. Apollonia and Kiyoko at the time had stared at the half-torn plants in their hands, leaves itchy and the blossoms rather small - definitely not anything they'd want popping up in the school gardens. But it was endearing that Hinata had the thought to pick them something cute for no particular reason, even if it did leave him mortified when Tsukishima informed him that poison oak would have been a better bouquet than his findings.

Sugawara in that moment had snapped a picture, several actually: of Kiyoko hiding her embarrassment behind the plant while Apollonia tucked her head to shield a half-grin, still looking delightfully flustered. It took a bit of pleading to persuade both Kiyoko and Apollonia to allow him to upload the picture, as long as he promised not to tag either one of them in it - not that he even knew Kiyoko's handle or if Apollonia even had any social media presence at all.

"Twenty-three new followers, over eighty likes, and more comments than I ever got for that picture of Daichi flexing!"

Somewhere, Daichi's ears lit up in flames, and Michimiya had squawked at the sight.

"Strange," was all that Apollonia said. It was clear that social media was lost on her, and Sugawara didn't bother to mention the line of embarrassing hashtags he had added, nor the multitude of comments poring over the 'ikemen,' next to Kiyoko.

"I have a surprise for you, you know," Sugawara chirped. Out of the blue statements such as these were not lost to Apollonia, but the sentiment always felt new.

"Why?"

"No need to scrunch your face like that," he quipped, "It's a good surprise!"

Before she could speak, she was ushered before a group of students huddled around the shoe lockers who looked no more enthused than she was. Sugawara, however, was unfazed.

"Karasuno's Journalism Club!" He chirped, wiggling his fingers, pose stuck. "They'd like to do an article for us in their very own paper!"

"It's more of a bulletin actually," one of the students corrected, "I mean, you will get a paragraph or two. Maybe."

"And we can fit in a picture," one of the girls piped in, holding up a scratched, heavy camera. "We can even print it in color!"

Judging by the speed which the club president was shaking his head, her promise was empty.

"We'll take it," Sugawara hummed, shoving Apollonia forwards. The club members looked puzzled.

"We thought we would be speaking to Sawamura-san," one mused quietly, as if he didn't want Apollonia to hear despite standing right in front of her.

"No-no," Sugawara assured, "She's our trainer! She knows us as well as Daichi does. As anyone." The club members still looked cautious.

"I told you beforehand," Sugawara pressed, now visually irritated, "for the article-"

"Bulletin," the club president punctuated.

"It's not that-" one of others interjected, but couldn't stutter out a full answer. None of them could hold eye contact, or hide their fidgeting. Guilt set in almost immediately.

"Daichi-san just seems like," one muttered, "b-but that doesn't mean we can't-"

"We can definitely interview Manner-san," the girl assured, already holding up her camera with sweaty hands. But Apollonia offered them a low bow, unspeaking, before turning around to the gym doors, leaving Sugawara to give them a curt goodbye and 'Thanks anyway.'

It didn't take long for him to catch up, as Apollonia was in no rush. Her eyes dropped down, then pointedly flicked up and forwards. She spoke of practice in her same tone of voice, unshaken.

"Oi," Sugawara nudged her shoulder with his. "It's good, okay? I'll find the literature club or even the speech club president and I'll get something better!"

Apollonia wasn't convinced, he knew that much, but she gave it her best effort to nod as if she were.

"You'd think the school would know you by now," Sugawara groaned, smirking inching on his face. Apollonia looked at him with the words, 'don't you dare,' radiating from her like a neon sign, making all the more enjoyable for Sugawara to continue.

"You know, how cool you are, and how smart you are, how you're the biggest volleyball nerd in all of Miyagi-" Apollonia whipped around, pink and bashful, holding her breath as if she was afraid she'd lose it.

"And how even though you don't salt your food it still tastes great! An-"

Apollonia tried to cover Sugawara's mouth with her hands, but he simply resorted to yelling words such as: 'Devoted!' 'Loyal!' 'Hardworking!' and wriggled out of her grip. He sprinted away, laughing. And for a moment, when he turned around to glance at her, he swore he had seen her mouth upturned, slightly open in a silent laugh.

Saturday, 10 am

University

There were a few weeks of examination left for Apollonia's training program, meaning that her notes were scrutinized far more rigorously than before. Her grades had gone from stellar to slightly-above-average, not due to a sacrifice in quality, but because of a sharp increase of expectation brought on by her class's upcoming graduation.

Thanks to the stress, the chairs in the Dean's office never felt more stiff or cold. Her papers were repeatedly shuffled, creating the only sound in an otherwise silent office, making Apollonia cringe. Her poker face paled in comparison to the Dean's; everything he did seem perfectly mechanical, each twitch or movement timed on even beats. It made her feel ill.

"Manner-kun, the information you've been providing us has been..." after flicking another page, Apollonia counted to four before he turned it back. He pursed his lips, flicking his eyes up at her on the sixth beat, "adequate, for someone of our establishment."

Apollonia was too humble to acknowledge that he was likely implying it was exemplary, and remained quiet.

"Your independent studies have been acknowledged," he murmured, eyes smaller and more piercing behind his glasses, "but don't pick up any habits that would deter it. It would be a waste of this school's resources if that were to happen, not to mention an embarrassment of reputation, both yours and ours. Understood?"

Apollonia nodded rigidly. Despite the number of times she had sat through these briefings, they never felt any easier to stomach. She was ushered out of the main office by her advisor, having to do a double-take when he held out a fist to her. The man was young, but always well-coiffed and scholarly in every way. The gesture itself was entirely childish.

"You're not easily shaken," he guffawed, "A necessity for someone in your field of interest. 'Adequate,' how facetious, but the guy has to keep up appearances, I suppose."

"I suppose," Apollonia parroted, still marginally confused. Her advisor hadn't shown to be the most informal person, so jumping from deep bows to fist bumps felt like jumping buildings.

"I've been emailing colleagues here and there," he said, "and you've become a topic of interest for some trainers. You are not shy to catch your own mistakes, exploit them, study them, and revisit them, repeatedly. Your mind is as peculiar as it is admirable."

"You're kind, sensei," Apollonia answered mechanically.

To be truthful, she was too flustered to fully embrace any of what he had confided in her. They had a comprehensive exchange of maybe, fifteen words if even. Everything felt so surreal. They continued to walk down the hall, but rather than allow Apollonia to exit the door as she had done before, he led her to an area of greenery, one for open-air studying or eating. Few people littered the courtyard, most in their own world, buried in their textbooks.

"It's not much," her advisor chimed in, startling Apollonia, "but I think this is better than some collegiate emails."

A young man walked towards them with a clipboard and tape recorder in hand, several pens behind his ear and in his shirt pocket. Behind him was a woman with a camera far more expensive than any she had seen before. Interns shadowed them with tablets and expectant faces. Apollonia turned almost sheet white, and turned from the group to her advisor, but after a bow and gesture towards her, he left, smile still uncharacteristically warm. The man turned his tape recorder on and spoke.

"Can you please state your name for us?"

Omake:

Shiratorizawa

The newest Volleyball Monthly sat on Semi's lap, open not to the spread of Aobajousai's captain and the blurb printed over him, but to a page rather plain with text.

Shiratorizawa over the years was built tall and readily armed to the point that checking in on other teams seemed laughable. But Washijou did not train lazy high school athletes shielded by blinders, he trained hot-blooded competitors that yearned for the spotlight. They knew better than to pass up on a new face regardless of whether they were a threat or not. It was Shiratorizawa's duty to assert their dominance either way.

"Oi, Satori, you're pretty good at English, read this name."

The middle blocker in question leapt at the command, eyes wide and amused that already irritated Semi before Tendou could even answer.

"Semi-Semi-kun! Was that a compliment I heard?!"

"Nevermind. Shirabu, come here!"

"No!" Tendou called back, "I'll do it! I'll do it!"

It became a battle to yank the magazine out of Semi's grasp, the war ultimately won by Tendou when he parked himself in Semi's lap and was brazenly pushed off, magazine forgotten. Tendou read the name forwards and backwards with his feet propped up on the bench.

"It's not English-looking," he hummed. "That part is 'Apollo' though, like the candy." The name itself didn't seem as difficult as Semi had made it, but his interest in the pronunciation was quickly lost at the portrait end.

"WAKATOSHI-KUN."

Ushijima didn't spare a glance and continued to loosen up, left arm swinging hard enough to cut the air with an audible 'whoosh.' Tendou sprinted and held the magazine directly in front of him, not even flinching at the second hand slap that came from Ushijima's disrupted warmup.

"Wakatoshi-kuuun!" He fluttered the page for emphasis, "You remember this face, don't you?"

At first, Ushijima couldn't place it. They were turned at a three-quarter profile, and had sharp cheekbones that boasted against the harsh, afternoon light. Their hair was but a white, washed-out outline contrasting the saturated greenery behind them. The shadows caught the prominent shape of their nose and eyes, features he knew but couldn't recognize. Tendou yanked the magazine back and held it parallel at arms length.

"Let's try this again." He brought it to the tip of his nose, squinting and staring, the shape of her name becoming audible in his own ears.

"Ah-poh-rroohnn-iaa."

"It sounds manly! Like a superhero," Goshiki gawked, "Or like magic! Ab-erah-cada-bera!"

"Sort of sounds like 'Apple' and 'Oni' put together. Can't imagine what that's supposed to mean," Shirabu mused.

"Foreigners," Kawanishi rolled his eyes.

"You know this guy," Semi asked, which prompted Tendou to belt out the gaudiest laugh, decorated with an exaggerated grab at his knees and chest. He went about his display for nearly a solid minute, enough time for Semi to lose what little fuse he had and bark, 'Shut up and tell us already!''

"Know HIM," Tendou drawled, laughter coming to an abrupt stop, "I think you mean, know her!"

Goshiki looked as he had heard his first swear word, being honestly one of the only ones genuinely shocked. Shirabu exhaled, seeing that Tendou would not elaborate if he was not further encouraged.

"Is that big deal? That he's a her?"

"You tell me, little one!" Tendou slung an arm around his bristly teammate, holding the magazine against his nose. "You tell me if it's a big deal that the first lady Wakatoshi-kun's ever talked to is a volleyball genius!"

"It's not."

Tendou squawked.

"It is!"

"I don't think this is the first girl Wakatoshi has ever talked to," Reon tried to reason. Shirabu held his forehead that his senpais were even having such a ridiculous argument.

"His mom doesn't count, Reon!"

Semi and Yamagata joined in with their jibes, enabling Tendou to carry such an inane conversation. Ushijima went about finishing his warmup routine, not letting his teammate's banter dishevel him. He called them for practice, snapping everyone back to reality as Washijou ambled through the gym doors. What normalcy Shiratorizawa had was restored, guiding them through their scheduled hell of drills and faux game plays.

The locker room was quiet save for pained groans and Tendou's music player set on high volume as they showered. Ushijima rubbed his face dry with his towel, eyes clearing to the magazine Semi had half-open on the bench. He read the article at his leisure as he pulled on his jacket, face unmoving.

Curiosity satiated, Ushijima put the magazine back in Semi's locker, pulled his book bag across his shoulder, and walked with Tendou back to the doors. They were ten steps from their room when he asked Tendou how to pronounce her name.

Aobajousai

"He's upset."

Matsukawa scoffed, nudging Hanamaki. "Well, clearly, but what is it about this time?"

"He already got over breaking up with his girlfriend, so it can't be that."

"Cafeteria must be out of milk bread again."

"You know I can hear you both!"

A volleyball came flying in between Hanamaki and Matsukawa, bringing their attention to the person of interest himself, Oikawa. Not far behind was Iwaizumi as he stretched out his kneepads.

"Whatever it is, he'll get over it," he barked.

"Well, what do you think it is, Iwaizumi?"

"Hell if I know."

"Stop talking as if I'm not here!"

Hanamaki and Matsukawa couldn't help but chuckle. Seeing Oikawa throwing a tantrum was by far the most amusing sight, not to mention a sport all it's own for those willing to instigate it. Iwaizumi wasn't any sort of taken by his friend's childishness, but his brusque reactions to Oikawa's fits made it even more hilarious.

"You got your own spread in Volleyball Monthly, you're usually riding on that for weeks before your head finally deflates."

"See, it's lucky we have Iwaizumi who knows Oikawa's moods," Hanamaki hummed and nudged Matsukawa, "makes things a lot easier."

"Agreed."

A cry of exasperation followed by another volleyball aimed at the duo came from Oikawa, who had taken to the floor, head resting on mats and towels.

"That's just it!" He groaned, "No one's even talking about me! It was a good spread, too!"

"What are you griping about," Iwaizumi huffed, "I literally got 200 notifications on all of my accounts because you kept tagging me. There should be a limit to how many heart emojis one person can put into a stupid comment."

"Agreed," Matsukawa nodded sagely.

Hanamaki was clearly offended. "Disagreed!"

"No," Oikawa waved the magazine overhead like a white flag, "Everyone's talking about this!"

Iwaizumi rolled his eye. It was common for Oikawa to blow things out of proportion, so the urge to just smack him was alway imminent, but his mood felt off. Darker. He chose to indulge him.

"Fine fine fine. What is it? What could possibly be such a big deal that people would post about something other than you?"

"That sounded almost genuine," Hanamaki mused. Matsukawa clicked his tongue, rubbing his index finger and thumb as if he were sprinkling salt.

"With just a touch of sarcasm."

"Shut up."

Iwaizumi fully opened the magazine, to the page Oikawa had bent down as a bookmark.

"I don't get it," he quipped. "It's just an article about a trainer. New college students usually get a blurb, you already know this."

"Look at the school!" Oikawa shouted from under a pile of towels.

Hanamaki ran his finger over a certain passage. "Karasuno. They're in high school still."

Matsukawa rubbed his chin. "Must be one of those gifted students. Didn't think Karasuno would be hiding one of those. But with their Libero and that tiny middle blocker, I guess it's not surprising."

Oikawa groaned again, seeing that the attention yet again was being sucked from his well-earned spread in favor of someone with barely five hundred words written about them.

"Everyone keeps taking screenshots!"

"So what," Iwaizumi threw the magazine at Oikawa's stomach, "What does it matter? So Karasuno has one article? It's been a long time since they were even mentioned."

"Not to mention, he's a pretty good-looking guy," Hanamaki mused. "One of those cool blondes with that city boy style Mattsun wishes he could pull off."

"You have an entire wishlist comprised of snapbacks, shut up," Matsukawa scoffed.

Oikawa rolled up the magazine and slapped it against Iwaizumi, and immediately paid for it with a foot to the chest. Not that it stopped Oikawa.

"You! Don't! Get! It," he cried. "Look at who's mentioned!"

Iwaizumi exhaled loudly and rolled his neck, counting to ten before snatching the magazine back. He still didn't get it, even after rereading the article twice. It took a familiar glaze in Oikawa's eye, and a specific downturn of his mouth before Iwaizumi caught on.

"Dammit, this is a that foreign girl you picked a fight with, isn't it?"

"I didn't pick a fight!"

Hanamaki and Matsukawa roared with laughter.

"I can't believe a girl makes a better looking man than you! And you had the nerve to fight her none the less!"

"How shameful of our King!"

Oikawa turned pink, mortified and angry and becoming more shrill by the minute.

"I didn't pick a fight!" He stomped his foot and threw the magazine on the ground, uncaring about how childish he looked.

"And she is not better looking than me!"

Author's Note:

Hello there, hope you are all having a good night or day! I hope you like this chapter, and thank you all for still supporting it, even with the updates very far in between! I hope to keep making content for you all! Thank you again for reading!

I enjoy Apple's ikemen image, it will become a little inside joke between her and Oikawa later, involving a bit of a one-sided social media war that ends with a bunch of bot accounts for Apollonia and ruthlessly irate Oikawa, haha.

Have a nice weekend, thank you all for stopping by!