No copyright infringement intended.


i.

growing pains


I think being an artist or whatever you want to call it has changed my perspective on people. Maybe not the way I see them, but the way I look at them, like, when I happen to glance at strangers on the bus or while I wait for my food at the McDonald's drive thru. I can't help but wonder if the girl carrying a hundred dollars worth of art supplies majors in art or if she got duped into taking one of the most expensive classes in university; if the dude wearing Vans appreciates the aesthetic or actually, you know, skates.

Because I'm curious? Or because I'm bored. Or because I like to romanticize things just as much as I love being a cynic, I don't know. The point is that as much as I want to know everything about everyone, I never really bother thinking of a name. Names make things complicated, because with a name comes a story, and there are times when I don't really need to hear yours so much as I need to create my own. And then the magic and the mystery fade because as friends, as acquaintances, as mutual-name-knowers, I can ask questions and get answers and not have to wonder—


"'But as a tortured artist voluntarily taking an introduction to philosophy class, I realize that I can't have that. I don't need the truth. I need to be inspired.' A little dramatic, but I like it."

I snatched the paper away from the boy next to me and slapped him upside the head with it, silencing his snickers and amplifying my own. The wounded puppy look he threw my way might have made me feel guilty, but I knew Takahashi Reo better than most. It took a lot more than that to actually hurt his feelings and I took pride in the fact that I didn't do much to ever really upset him.

We met in fifth grade when he asked if I wanted to use his sixty-four pack of crayons, and I, like any sane ten year old, said yes. As a token of my thanks, I drew a picture of my favorite Pokémon just for him. He kept me saved as Eievui in his contacts from the moment his parents gave him his first flimsy flip phone and reminds me every couple of years that his decision to do so solidified our friendship for life.

"It's supposed to be dramatic," I said, shuffling my essay and its designated folder into my backpack. "I'm contemplating my existence. It's a college preparatory class. I don't think it gets any more dramatic than that."

Reo hummed (more of a yeah, sure, whatever you say than agreement) and turned his attention back to the magazine in his hands. It was the last physical issue since the company permanently became a digital publication a few months earlier and he bought it online for an absurd forty-thousand yen just to read a half-page feature on Vincent van Gogh.

"'The exact sequence of events which led to Van Gogh's mutilation of his ear is not known,'" Reo read aloud, frowning. "Does that sound like something copied from Wikipedia to you?"

"A little bit."

"Fuck."

"Here," I said, taking out a tupperware set filled to the brim with okonomiyaki. "I was craving it last night and made way more than I need."

"You're craving comfort food because you're stressed," Reo pointed out, adding a cheery thanks! when I offered him my spare cutlery. "That's why I tell you to get out more," he paused after his first bite. "I should invest in reusable spoons instead of using all of the plastic shit they give us in the cafeteria. Did you get this online?"

"I hope this isn't you trying to convince me to go to the café this weekend. And no, Daiso."

"Got any extras?"

"Yeah."

"I'll pay you back."

"You don't have to do that."

Reo perked up, a grin stretching across his face. "Does that mean you'll come?"

"The best friend card is for emergencies only, you know, carpool and free lunch and stuff," I said, frowning. "Blackmail not included."

"Fine, but you know what is? Hanging out with your best friend," Reo dragged out the last couple of words. "You spent all of December at home all sad and alone!"

I shoved a forkful of pasta into his mouth. "You came over every single day."

"Did not."

"Did too."

"Unlike some people, I have a life."

"And I have a photo album full of polaroids from that break because you said you wanted to document the fact that you came over," I counted to three in my head for a deliberate and dramatic pause. "Every single day."

"'Sad and with company' doesn't have the same ring to it," Reo clarified, his cheeks reminiscent of a cute chipmunk. "Isn't that a thing, though? Misery loves company? Don't you want to be miserable with other people out in the real world instead of indulging in random strangers on Terrace House?"

"This season was kind of boring," I admitted, sighing in glum resignation. Reo nodded in sympathy, but I noticed the slight curl of his lips and felt the need to make things at least a little bit hard for him. "Won't a part time job stress me out even more?"

"Not while I'm there."

"My hair is turning gray as we speak."

"Now you're just being rude," Reo said, using the opposite end of his fork to poke my forehead. "Come on, I'll take all of the same shifts so we can walk home together after!"

I swatted at his hand, brows furrowed as if in thought, but we both knew I had my answer ready ages before the conversation even started. "I want free lattes for a month."

"That's great because now you can make them yourself!"

"Yeah, at home."

"Unless I make them for you with the little bunny art and everything," Reo added, quickly offering me the last bite of the okonomiyaki for good measure. I let a grin slip, and he groaned. "Damn it! 'Blackmail not included,' my ass!"


The current autumn season marked three years since my family and I moved from the bustling streets of Tokyo to a humble prefecture a little ways north of Tokyo. It didn't take long for me to make new friends in middle school, but Reo kept in touch until both of us ended up at Karasuno High. His parents divorced a few months ago, and while his older sister decided to stay with their mom, Reo uprooted his life and moved to Miyagi with their dad.

It made sense for him to get a part time job. Reo was in college preparatory classes, too, but contrary to popular belief, he had much better time management than I did. I was in class 1-5, and he was in class 1-4 alongside one of his coworkers. I had only seen Tsukishima Kei in passing a couple of times since the semester started, and though I didn't have much of an opinion about him, Reo complained enough for me to know that they did not get along.

Fortunately or not, the café they worked at seemed impossible to find. I considered heading back home after about an hour of aimlessly wandering around when I spotted a handful of girls huddled on the sidewalk across the street. I tried not to meddle in other people's business, but my curiosity got the best of me, and as I got closer to them, I realized the numbers on the buildings started looking more and more familiar.

"It's kind of hidden," Reo told me yesterday, pulling up a map on his phone. "Well, it was. I bet you'll see it from a mile away with all the girls swarming outside. That Tsukishima guy is more popular than I'd like to admit."

It took nearly a whole minute to squeeze through said swarm of girls. I found it a little weird that they crowded around the wrong place and almost tripped twice as I tried to push past them, but I managed to make it to the coffee shop next door without a scratch.

A bell jingled as I stepped inside. The café was small with a cozy feel, but not as packed as it appeared from a distance. Hardwood floors complimented the mahogany walls and the bean bags scattered around the room reminded me of my living room at home.

"May I help you?"

I jolted in surprise and turned towards the counter where an elderly woman with silver hair and a pair of reading glasses perched low on her nose gave me a kind smile. As she stood from her seat, I slowly inched forward, feeling more than a little awkward about my sudden intrusion.

"Uh, hi," I said. "I didn't see a help wanted sign outside or anything, but I heard you could use a few more hands around here?"

The image of the girls standing by the windows made me wince as I added, "I'm not here for Tsukishima Kei. I'm sure you get that a lot, but I've never even properly met the guy. I only know his name because we go to the same school."

"You're here instead of there," the woman said, placing a gentle hand on my shoulder. I followed her gaze to the group of squealing teenage girls by the entrance to the arcade next door. "I believe you."

I didn't quite understand what she meant, but her eyes reflected a mischievous twinkle that became more prominent with her smile, and I couldn't help but return the gesture. "Takahashi Reo told me about this place."

"And he told me about you," she said, chuckling. "No need to fret so much. You're hired."

My eyes widened. "I'm what?"

"Hang on a second, Gran! You hired her without even asking us?"

A girl stepped into the room carrying a cluster of coffee filters. Her face remained hidden behind the stack in her hands, but her tone implied that she really wasn't all that torn up about it.

"That's her?"

I switched my attention to the back door from where another employee emerged. He looked about my age albeit half a head taller with short, blond hair and lips curled into a snobbish smirk. My eyes swept over his name tag out of habit, but I already knew what was written on it, and I could probably guess what he was about to say on top of that.

"I thought this was a democratic process," Tsukishima said, crossing his arms. "Bakahashi obviously cast his vote so why don't we get that same privilege?"

"Well, then," Gran mused, shaking her head. "Those in favor of hiring…"

"Tachibana Kana."

"Those in favor of hiring Tachibana Kana, say aye."

The one I didn't know slapped her hands down on the counter, momentarily abandoning the stockpile of untouched coffee filters behind her. I tried to give her my undivided attention, but from my peripheral I noticed Tsukishima sigh in exasperation and fought the urge to do the same.

"How old are you?"

"Sixteen."

"What school do you go to?"

"Karasuno."

"Karasuno? With Tsukki—"

"Wannabe-san," Tsukishima said, smiling tightly. "Don't forget you're still on the job."

'Wannabe-san' frowned, shaking her head. "You're always such a killjoy, Tsukki."

"Let's not scare her off before she even has a chance to start, Kei, Akane," the woman chided. "I'll ask one more time. All those in favor of hiring Tachibana Kana?"

"Aye, aye!"

"Whatever."

"Hell, yes!"

The one and only Takahashi Reo burst through the door at that moment, a shit-eating grin threatening to swallow the rest of his face. I didn't have to look at Tsukishima to know he rolled his eyes again, but the laugh I heard from Watanabe 'Wannabe-san' Akane came as a pleasant surprise.

"You're late," she said, holding up an expectant hand.

Reo slapped his palm against hers as he moved to stand beside me. "I didn't think Kana would find this place so fast."

"You told me to look for the squealing girls," I motioned to the crowd next door. "What's up with that? Aren't they here for Tsukishima?"

"I tell them he works at the arcade," Akane said, playfully elbowing the blond next to her. "We've gotten pretty good at keeping the secret up since Tsukki's usually in the back making all the drinks."

Tsukishima scoffed at the umpteenth use of his nickname, but he didn't look too annoyed. For some reason, though, I felt a yet coming at the end of that sentence, especially when he turned to me and Reo.

"What's up with you two?" Tsukishima shot back. "I'm positive you're not dating, but does he secretly hate you or something?"

"Don't be so sure about anything, you prick," Reo huffed, turning his nose away. "How could I possibly hate my best friend?"

"Well," Tsukishima drawled. "You asked her to come today of all days."

Akane gasped, fingers snapping. "That's right! Aren't your teammates from the volleyball club stopping by later?"

"Volleyball club?" Reo and I repeated inquisitively.

"They found out I worked here and decided on their own to come after practice today," Tsukishima shrugged. "I mentioned it a couple of days ago. Takahashi definitely knew," the bespectacled blond's signature smirk resurfaced in full force. "Ah, that must be why he brought in a new recruit!"

I spun around to smile innocently at an ashen faced Reo. "I'm going to kill you?"

"I forgot," Reo protested, turning to point a finger at his fellow blond. "Dude, I told you she was coming today! Why didn't you remind me?"

"It must have slipped my mind."

"You snake—"

"We'll handle the drinks today," Akane interrupted, sliding a notepad and a pen across the counter. "Just take their orders and hangout for a bit, maybe partake in some team bonding for both us and the crows."

"Your training can start this weekend," Gran added, the corners of her eyes wrinkling with her smile. "I'm counting on you not to break anything, Reo, Kei."

"Why did you say my name first?" Reo pouted.

Tsukishima clicked his tongue. "Why say my name at all?"

"Wait," I said, blinking at the pen and notepad that somehow ended up in my hands. "I'm starting now? Like, right now?"

With impeccable timing, the bell at the door chimed once, twice, thrice, and a few more times after that. Tsukishima let out a heavy sigh, his collected façade fading as his fingers massaged his temples. While Reo excused himself to clock in, Akane ducked into the stockroom and reppeared not a minute later with a white button up and a black apron identical to her own.

"Yes," she said. "Right now."


As of today, I knew exactly three things about Karasuno's boys' volleyball club. Tsukishima was one of three first years on the team as a regular. I had heard from a friend that the Fukurodani Group invited them to a training camp in Tokyo some time next month. Last but not least, there were a lot of them.

"This is Watanabe Akane, our manager," Tsukishima said. "Bakahashi's somewhere in the back, and the girl over there is Tachibana Kana."

"Tsukishima!"

Two members I assumed to be second years pounced, slinging their arms around the already irritated blond. "You just wanted to hangout with pretty girls on your own time!"

"First of all, I doubt even you two would want to get involved with Wannabe-san," Tsukishima muttered, pushing his glasses up. "And Tachibana just started working here not even five minutes ago. I barely know her."

Akane grinned, throwing up a peace sign. "I'd be more offended, but he's right."

"Well, it's nice to meet you," a boy with grayish hair said. "I'm Sugawara Kōshi. You go to Karasuno, too, right, Tachibana-san? I think I've seen you around."

"Yeah," I said, returning his smile. "Feel free to drop the honorifics, Sugawara-senpai."

"Senpai?" one of the two boys from earlier repeated. "Hey, hey, I know you're kind of tall, but you wouldn't happen to be a first year, would you?"

"I am."

"Please call me senpai as well!"

"Sure," I said, tilting my head. "What's your name, senpai?"

He puffed out his chest. "Nishinoya Yū! Karasuno's guardian deity!"

"Guardian deity?"

"Yeah, I'm the libero!"

"That sounds pretty cool."

"… you have no idea what that means, do you?"

"Nope," I said, popping the p. "I'm not really into sports. Don't get me wrong, though, I've heard good things about your team."

I tried my best not to glance at Tsukishima or show that the rest of my thought ended with a tentative for the most part, but the laugh that escaped Sugawara-senpai and the boy sitting next to him implied that they saw right through my attempts at staying civil.

"That's reassuring, at least," the latter grinned. "My name is Sawamura Daichi, captain. I don't suppose I need to explain my position?"

"Mom and dad?" I supplied, pointedly looking at him and Sugawara-senpai with a raised brow.

"I think that's pretty accurate," another boy said with a chuckle. "Ah, my name is Yamaguchi Tadashi! I'm a first year student, too!"

The other one that had all but jumped Tsukishima suddenly stood straight and cried out, "I'm Tanaka! Call me Tanaka-senpai! Please!"

"Nice to meet you, Tanaka-senpai, Yamaguchi," I said, dipping my head at them before turning to the last of the bunch. "I didn't catch your name."

He stiffened and ducked his head. "Sorry! I'm, uh, Azumane Asahi."

"Don't mind him," Nishinoya grinned, nudging him in the side. "He might look scary, but he's actually just a big softie!"

"What about everyone else?" Akane asked, making the motion of looking around. "Not that I'm an expert on volleyball or anything, but even I can tell this isn't enough people to make up a whole team."

"They should be here any second now," Sawamura-senpai said, scratching at his cheek. "Our managers needed help with a few errands so the other second years offered to stay behind and help."

Tanaka-senpai and Nishinoya-senpai paled, collapsing on the floor in unison. "I'm sorry we couldn't be there for you, Kiyoko-chan!"

"And the freak duo?" Tsukishima asked. "I highly doubt their assistance was required."

"On their way," Sugawara-senpai said, scratching at his cheek. "Honestly, I think it'll be good for them to focus on other things. Those two in particular seem super stressed about finals."

I blinked. "Finals?"

"What, did you forget they're in two weeks?" Tsukishima snorted.

"Shit," I muttered, slapping a palm against my forehead. "I forgot about finals!"

Yamaguchi squinted at me in puzzlement. "Aren't you a scholar student? I think I've seen you in Class 1-5, if I'm not mistaken."

"Math and science aren't my strong suits," I said, letting out a sigh. "I'm better at language and literature, you know, stuff like that. I should probably take some time to review for those other classes if I want to do well, but my schedule has gotten kind of hectic lately."

"Looks like you're on the same boat as us," Sugawara-senpai said, a sympathetic smile replacing the grin from before. "We're required to pass all of our exams if we want to participate in an important training camp next month."

"With the Fukurodani Group," I nodded, pausing to raise a brow at their surprised faces. "What?"

Tsukishima arched a brow right back. "I thought you weren't into sports."

"A friend told me about it," I said. "Not to mention I moved here from Tokyo. The schools part of the Fukurodani Group are pretty well known, and if I had stayed in the city, I would've probably attended Fukurodani Academy."

"Did you hear that, Ryū?" Nishinoya-senpai whispered loud enough for his words to reverberate in the otherwise empty café. "Our kohai is a city girl!"

"Shitty girl!" Tanaka-senpai shouted.

I ignored Tsukishima's unapologetic snickers and feigned a frown. "Are you trying to pick a fight with me, senpai?"

"Eh?!"

"Hold on, how'd you hear about the training camp?" Sawamura-senpai asked, brows furrowed, though not unkindly. "The only people who know about it are in the volleyball club."

Just as I opened my mouth to respond, I whirled around at the sound of my name, too fast that it hurt my neck, but slow enough that I caught Sawamura-senpai's expression. Eyes alight with just as much bewilderment, Yachi Hitoka stood by the door, arms flailing to draw our attention.

"This is the place you told me about!" Hitoka exclaimed. "It never even occurred to me that the café Tsukishima-kun worked at had the same name!"

"Your friend is Yachi?" Yamaguchi asked, blinking at the frazzled blond and back at me. "That's a nice surprise! I don't see you at school together very often."

"You mean at all."

"You know what I meant, Tsukki."

Hitoka let out a sheepish laugh. "Ah, I've known Kana-chan for almost a year now, actually!"

"We go to the same art academy," I added.

"Art academy?" Nishinoya-senpai echoed, gaping at me with wide eyes. "You're an artist?"

"Who's an artist?"

"Me," I said, turning around as the bell at the front door rang again. "I'm Tachibana Kana, Hitoka's old friend, Tsukishima's new coworker."

"Oh, hey," the orange haired boy at the entrance grinned. "My name is Hinata Shōyo. Tsukishima's kind of mean, but any friend of Yachi's is a friend of mine!"

"Hinata," another unfamiliar voice practically growled.

I looked up at the front door for the umpteenth time and found myself staring at a scowling, dark haired boy. His school uniform was unbuttoned all the way down, revealing the plain white tee he wore underneath seemingly wrinkled from a sprint.

"What did I do now, Kageyama?" Hinata asked, forehead creasing in consternation. "You're just mad because I beat you here, huh? Huh?"

"You dropped Yachi's stuff in the middle of the street, dumbass," Kageyama said, holding up a brown paper bag. "I only got here after you 'cause I stopped to pick it up."

Hitoka gasped, hands flying to her mouth. "Thanks so much, Kageyama-kun! I was supposed to give that to Kana-chan!"

"Kana?" Kageyama echoed, brows furrowed.

His gaze shifted from the flustered blond to me, and then down at the paper bag in his hands. As he made his way over to where the rest of his team sat, I tucked the notepad under my arm and ducked my head when he handed it over. This Kageyama didn't look like the sentimental type; I could probably afford a little back and forth.

"Thanks," I said. "I hope it wasn't too heavy."

Kageyama shrugged, indifferent, but the fact that he didn't deny it failed to escape me. "What's in that thing?

"Some tubes of gouache and oil paint brushes. Maybe a few bottles of turpentine, too."

"Turpentine?" Azumane-senpai inquired.

Nishinoya-senpai peeked out from behind Hinata. "Gouache?"

"Gouache is paint and turpentine is usually used as a paint thinner. I asked Hitoka to bring me some from our art academy since I'm about to run out, like, yesterday," I said, turning towards the girl in question. "Were you planning to stop by my place after this?"

Hitoka bobbed her head with a smile. "I didn't mind since you live so close to school, but it looks like things worked out better."

"Where's Shimizu and the rest of the kids?" Sugawara-senpai asked.

"Takeda-sensei asked them to stay behind a bit longer," Hitoka said. "They might not be able to make it today, but they promised to visit Tsukishima-kun again another time."

"I'm devastated," Tsukishima said dryly.

Nishinoya-senpai jumped on his back, eliciting an annoyed grunt from the tall blond. "Kiyoko-chan promised to see you and you react like that? Tsukishima, you jerk!"

"Rip off that apron right now!" Tanaka-senpai demanded, clawing at his own shirt.

"Don't even think about it," Sugawara-senpai said flatly. "Sorry about holding you up, Tachibana. Do you mind if we place our orders now?"

I nodded a second later than I intended, startled by how quickly everything moved. I had probably met more people in the past ten minutes than I have in the three months since the school year started. Further adding to my surprise, I pulled out the notepad again and found that I had absentmindedly covered the entire first page with rough doodles of the boys and their antics.

"Whoa," Hinata said, blinking rapidly at the drawings. "Those look so real!"

"Kana-chan is a wonderful artist," Hitoka gushed.

I flipped the page out of habit, but remembered to smile in thanks. "I can't believe I didn't notice I drew them in the first place."

"Do you mind if we see them?" Sugawara-senpai asked.

"You can keep them if you want," I said, already tearing out the sheet. "It's nothing fancy, but I'd rather give it to someone than just throw out the paper."

"That'd be great," Sawamura-senpai said, grinning. "We can put it up somewhere. Memories and all that."

Hinata shook his head, frowning. "No fair! I want one of them, too!"

"You don't just ask for something like that, idiot!" Kageyama snapped.

"Not a big deal," I assured them both. "Let me take your orders first. How about I sketch something at home and bring it to school next week?"

"Thanks, Tachibana-san!"

"Don't feel the need to do that just because the dumbass asked for it."

"Bakageyama-kun, shut up!"

"Stop calling me that, Hinata-boke!"

"I'll have an iced americano," Sugawara-senpai said, smiling sweetly with an undertone of sit down or I'll kick your ass. "What about you guys?"

Hinata immediately plopped down beside Kageyama, who pursed his lips and straightened his back. Asahi-senpai and Sawamura-senpai bit back their grins while Tanaka-senpai and Nishinoya-senpai mourned for their precious underclassmen off to the side. Yamaguchi waved and hid a smile behind his spare hand as Tsukishima rolled his eyes and wordlessly went back to the kitchen. Hitoka looked just about ready to pass out.

"One iced americano," I said, a little bit frightened, but for the most part bemused. "Thank you. Next?"


The Karasuno volleyball team stayed at the café for exactly an hour and four minutes. Tsukishima ignored them pretty expertly aside from Yamaguchi and the occasional insult hurled at Hinata and Kageyama. He didn't look as intimidating as all the times I've passed by him in the school hallways, but I could tell he wasn't the type of person I could be friends with if I didn't put in the effort, and I hadn't decided if that was something I wanted to attempt.

Akane definitely hit it off with the team, the third years in particular. Those four carried their conversations with an ease I wouldn't have expected from people who had just met. Nishinoya-senpai and Tanaka-senpai stuck to me and the other first years like glue, and when Hitoka brought up the fact that they felt some type of way about people calling them senpai, it suddenly made sense. To be honest, I think I'd enjoy hearing someone refer to me as their senpai, too.

While Yamaguchi was nice, he spent almost all of his time talking to Tsukishima over the counter. Hinata told stories without periods or commas, but something about his enthusiasm felt a little less annoying and a little more on the endearing side. Not for Kageyama, though. The two of them bickered nonstop, and most of their arguments ended up with the latter all but blowing a fuse.

"How the hell do you deal with that everyday?" Reo groaned, all but collapsing in one of the booths after flipping the open sign to closed.

Tsukishima didn't spare a glance at him, but he clicked his tongue in what could only be agreement. "To think that wasn't even all of them."

"I had a blast," Akane said, slapping a towel at both of their backs. "You wouldn't think it just by looking at him, but Suga is pretty hilarious, huh?"

"Should you be acting chummy with a bunch of high school kids, Wannabe-san?" Tsukishima asked.

He readjusted his glasses after her playful gesture inadvertently knocked them down his nose, and the glint in his eyes made it clear that the not yet annoyed Tsukishima from earlier was definitely annoyed now. Akane waved off the nickname, but decidedly pushed her luck by ruffling his hair.

"I'd be a third year if I didn't skip a grade, Tsukki," she said. "If anything, shouldn't a brat like you respect his elders more?"

"Not when they call me a brat."

"Maybe I wouldn't if you stopped calling me a wannabe!"

"You skipped a grade?" I asked, looking at the brunette as I wiped down the counters. "Does that mean you're in university now?"

"Well, I said I skipped a grade, but it's more like I graduated early," Akane corrected herself. "To answer your question, I'm not in university yet. I'm in the middle of a gap year right now."

"I don't see the point of graduating early if you're just going to start at the same time as everyone else," Tsukishima mumbled.

Akane tapped a finger against her temple, referring to his glasses. "You don't see much in general, Megane-kun."

"That's original, Wannabe-san."

"Did anybody on the team catch your eye, Kana?" Reo asked, having stood to turn chairs over on the opposite side of the café.

I stopped to think about it for a second, then nodded. "It was pretty impressive when Nishinoya-senpai dumped an energy drink into his cold brew and actually drank it."

"That," Akane called out from the back. "Was disgusting."

Tsukishima's expression twisted in silent agreement as he put away the last of the clean dishes. "How did that look impressive to you in any way?"

"The fact that he did it without blinking should be recognized," I said, haughtily. "I doubt that's the last time any of them will show up around here. Might change my mind if someone mixes an espresso with cola."

Reo and Tsukishima gave me nearly identical looks of incredulity. From the kitchen, I heard Akane burst into giggles, followed by sudden clattering and a damn, my bad!

"You're chaotic evil, but I knew that," Reo said, bobbing his head as if to reassure himself of the truth. "It's the Gemini rising."

I wanted to protest, but all I could do was grin. It was kind of fun watching the chaos unfold.

"Yeah," I said. "Whatever that means."


The weekend passed after I finished training at the café. I told a friend in Tokyo that I decided to take the job and the first thing she asked was if any cute guys worked there. When I mentioned Tsukishima (from an objective perspective as an unbiased third party), her jaw dropped so far down that it disappeared from the video call, and the next thing I knew she had thrown down the best friend card in hopes of getting a sneaky photo.

"Tsukishima," I said, not so discreetly holding up my phone. "Don't smile. I don't want her to have too much power."

"What—"

I asked for permission before sending it to my friend and he, as expected, ignored me, but one of the things I learned about Tsukishima pretty early on was that if it didn't directly affect him, he really couldn't care less. I asked the same question five minutes after that and he went from rolling his eyes when he thought I couldn't see him to merely raising a brow.

"That's a yes," Yamaguchi said, laughing from his seat by the counter. "Or a 'whatever,' which, to Tsukki, means pretty much the same thing."

"I would like to hear the truth from the source," I said, pointedly staring at the bespectacled blond.

"I'm surprised," Tsukishima droned, this time spinning around to make sure I definitely saw him roll his eyes. "That such a cultured artist as yourself doesn't have anything better to do with her time."

"For the record, I have plenty of hobbies."

"Oh?"

"I think selling your photos to the black market is a newfound favorite of mine."

"That's creepy, Sutōkāna-san," Tsukishima said, rolling his eyes again when he saw I hardly blinked. I would never admit that it took a lot of effort not to show how impressed I was by the nickname. "Do whatever you want. I couldn't care less."

Akane chortled as she watched me hit send nanoseconds after receiving his approval. "You're funny, Kana. I've never known anyone to ask for permission before sending an obligatory creeper pic."

"Obligatory?" Yamaguchi echoed. "Girls are scary…"

"I'll delete it if that's what you really want, Ninkishima," I said, deflating in an exaggerated display of defeat.

Tsukishima raised a brow at the moniker, but instead of flipping me off like I had expected, he replied with an almost amused, "Who would've thought you'd be even more annoying than Bakahashi?"

"Teach me how to do that," Reo mouthed from behind him.

Speaking of Reo, he had given me a list of beverages along with step-by-step instructions on how to prep each one. He said he compiled it himself, but Tsukishima all too happily revealed that he spent twenty minutes copying and pasting a chart from Wikipedia.

"That magazine did it and got forty-thousand yen out of me," Reo said, pouting petulantly. "Why can't I indulge in the same secret to success?"

Tsukishima snickered behind behind hand. "Forty-thousand yen?"

"Sue them," Akane said, placing a comforting hand on Reo's shoulder. "We're in your corner."

Between the three of them quizzing me every shift, I memorized all the items on that list in one weekend. Black Eye was dripped coffee with a double shot of espresso. Macchiato was an espresso with a dash of foamed milk. Caffè Latte wass one third espresso and two thirds steamed milk, and Caffè Mocha was the same thing but with a portion of chocolate added, typically in the form of chocolate syrup.

I had it down to the point where I started taking orders in my sleep. Reo made a face at me when I complained about getting less of it because of that, the kind that always sort of made me feel guilty. Most people think that he doesn't look like the type to worry about stuff, but he actually worries a lot. The thing I said about not really doing anything to ever upset him limited itself to things I didn't do intentionally.

"You don't sleep at all," Reo said, frowning. "I recommended the job because I know you need the extra cash, but I had hoped it'd force you to manage your schedule better, not make it worse."

I never liked that tone. The one that said, you're getting pissed that I'm telling you what to do but you can't really be mad because you know I'm just concerned, right? Reo tried not to use it often, knowing that it made me uncomfortable, but I couldn't blame him whenever it happened to stumble out.

High school was stressful enough for any sixteen year old. Taking college preparatory classes during the day, attending the art academy in the evenings, and now working at the café on the weekends added to the dates and deadlines incessantly goading me as we approached the end of the semester. It didn't help that I was the absolute queen of procrastination.

"I slept four and a half hours last night," I said, feeling defensive in a way didn't make sense because four and a half hours was nowhere near healthy.

"That half hour is a real game changer."

"You know I'm busy."

It wasn't a lie, but it sounded more and more like an empty excuse as the days passed. I tried not to flinch at the sigh that immediately punctured the static silence, an act of acquiescence that I had come to recognize far too well. When I dared look up, I saw Reo catch his bottom lip between his teeth. He did that whenever he was frustrated.

"We have school tomorrow."

"I know."

"It's late."

"I won't stay up too long," I promised.

Now that was a lie if I ever did hear one.


According to WebMD, most causes of insomnia included stress, medication, mental health issues like depression and anxiety, and caffeine, tobacco, or alcohol use. Tobacco and alcohol didn't apply to me. I also didn't take any medication aside from the occasional pain reliever for persistent migraines and torturous period cramps.

The rest of them?

I piled on project after project just to keep my mind off things. School took up most of my energy during the day, and the art academy demanded late nights or all nighters. Working at a coffee shop certainly didn't do much to ease my caffeine consumption, but I suppose those first three days made my head feel a little less messed up.

Maybe I really did need to get out more.

I couldn't pinpoint the exact moment I suddenly felt like this. It might not have been sudden at all. The only thing I knew without a doubt was that I hated it, being stuck inside the chaos. I thought back to that day in the café when half of the boys' volleyball team essentially just made noise for an hour and four minutes and realized that was the kind of madness I wanted to immerse myself in all the time.

That was usually around the time I'd start feeling guilty. It wasn't like I lived an especially difficult existence. I reminded myself that I had loving parents and precious friends, good grades, time and money to pursue expensive interests, and now a job with flexible hours paying slightly more than minimum wage. My problems didn't amount to much. Life was alright.

"I'm home," I called out.

Mom peeked her head out from the kitchen with a smile. "How was work?"

"Fine," I said, kissing her cheek and dropping my bag onto the couch. "What's for dinner?"

"Curry."

"Yummy."

"It's ready if you want to eat now."

"I'm not that hungry yet," I said, heading to my room. "I think I'll wait for Dad to get home from work," I halted midstep. "Unless you want to eat now?"

Mom waved me off, shuffling her slippers off as she stepped onto the carpeted floors separating our kitchen from the living room. "I already ate. Do you mind if I take a nap for a bit? Got home late this morning."

"No," my mom was a nurse, and her naps became a standard in our household as a result of endless on-call shifts. "Go ahead."

"An hour, tops."

"It's fine, Mom," I said, waving her off. "I'll wake you up when Dad gets home."

"He might have to stay late at the office tonight."

"That's okay."

Mom nodded, pecking me on the head before turning into their room. "Goodnight, baby."

"Sleep tight."

I went into my own room once I heard the door shut. It was colder than any of the other rooms in our house and for a while I thought it was maybe because a ghost took residency while we went out of town one weekend for my fourteenth birthday. In a much less interesting reality, I think it just had something to do with the ventilation.

Or maybe it was just me.


"Got any favorites?" Reo asked, strolling alongside me after we both clocked out for the day.

I didn't look up from the rock I had been kicking for the past two blocks. "Caffè lattes."

"I meant from the volleyball team," Reo said, rolling his eyes. "Just thought I'd ask since we met a good few of them already. Lots to choose from, kind of like those otome games you play so much."

"Fire Emblem is not an otome game."

"It kind of is."

"Well," I paused, then nodded. "It kind of is."

Reo snickered. "So, favorites?"

"Nishinoya-senpai."

"Seriously?"

"Why do you sound offended?"

"I just didn't think he suited your tastes."

"Okay, boomer."

"Take that back right now."

"You're the one asking me about my favorites instead of who I find the most attractive."

"That's what I meant and you know it."

I pondered the options. No matter how I tried to look at it, the third years gave me undeniable big brother energy. Hinata exuded little brother energy even moreso. Tanaka-senpai and Nishinoya-senpai had such an intense infatuation with Shimizu-senpai that I couldn't really look at them seriously, and because of my weekend shifts, Tsukishima and the ever present Yamaguchi felt a little too familiar for me to take them into genuine consideration either.

"Kageyama," I said after a moment. "You know what I mean, though, right? It's not like I like him. I'm acknowledging the fact that he's the most physically attractive in a potentially non-platonic way."

"Beauty is subjective."

"I'm acknowledging the fact that I, in my humble opinion, think he's the most physically attractive in a potentially non-platonic way."

"Not that there was a right answer," Reo said, sliding forward to intercept me. "But that sounds more correct than the first one."

I pushed him with just enough force to make him miss his next attempt at a steal. "I don't like what you're implying."

"I'm just saying he's more of your type," Reo said, skidding to a stop as he shuffled through his pocket. "Here. I'm not trying to set you up with him, or any of the others for that matter, but I think this is a good opportunity for you to make some friends."

"I have friends."

"Not including me."

"Hitoka."

"Aside from me and Yachi."

"Tsukishima and Yamaguchi and Akane?"

"That's—"

"Do you want me to pull out my contacts list because I really don't mind—"

"Friends aside from me and Yachi and maybe Tsukishima and Yamaguchi and Akane who don't live an hour away by train," Reo interrupted, flapping the paper sheet around for emphasis. Upon closer inspection, I realized he held out what looked like an informal application for something. "My point is that you're kind of smart, right?"

"You have two seconds to convince me that was a compliment."

"Like a genius."

"I said compliment, not lie."

"The rest of the boys' volleyball team isn't like that. They're more like bricks. Real shitty bricks in need of a solid foundation. Takeda-sensei asked Daichi-senpai who asked Akane who asked me if I know someone able and willing to tutor them."

"What made you think of me?" I asked, quirking a brow. I must've looked thoughtful because he perked up at my response, only to pop like an inflated balloon when I added, "I'm busy until, like, graduation."

Reo clasped his hands together and solemnly stared up at the sky. "You can't say I didn't try."

"I might consider it if they ask me themselves," I said, chuckling at his dramatics. "Why don't you help out if you're so concerned?"

"Yeah, about that, I already am. Hinata needs help with math and that unfairly tall Tsukishima had no intention of stepping up even though he's apparently the only one qualified enough among the first years," Reo sniffed. "Rude."

"What kind of math is it? Statistics? Calculus?"

"Addition," Reo murmured sadly.

I lowered my head. "Damn."

"I offered my assistance because I am, of course, a good samaritan."

I half-heartedly kicked the rock towards him. "Should I be concerned about the fact that you're sort of turning into a pathological liar?"

"Long story short, Hinata showed me a picture of some of the friends they're meeting up with at that training camp, and one of them is my soulmate, I think," Reo paused to take a breath, and I felt obligated to take one with him. "If Hinata fails, he obviously can't attend the training camp, which means I don't have a reason to coincidentally drop by and visit. I mean, it's not like I'm going to tell them I'm there for Tsukishima."

I nodded sympathetically.

"… well?"

"Oh, you're done?"

"This is exactly why you don't have any friends."

"I'm just trying to figure out how any of that applies to you strategically luring me into admitting Kageyama is cute when you know perfectly well I've had a type since we watched the first episode of Prince of Tennis."

Reo frowned, eyeing me dubiously. "For someone who always has such an absentminded look on her face, you're way too sharp."

"I am not afraid to sick my rock on you," I said, reaching down to pick up the pebble.

"Hinata and Kageyama have this wicked move that only they can do and if one of them is missing the other will be essentially useless. I already have my hands full with Hinata, but maybe you can tutor Kageyama, too?" Reo asked, frowning as he tacked on, "How do you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Get people to spill their guts."

"Have you ever considered the fact that maybe you just tend to ramble?"

"Touché," Reo said, stopping in front of my house. "We're here and I still don't have an answer. Am I allowed to use the you-know-what?"

"Thanks for walking me home," I said, chuckling when he caught the rock I had tossed at him with a repulsed scowl. "No need for the best friend card. Like I said, if any of them want my help, they can ask for it themselves."

Reo chucked the rock behind him and crossed his arms, a self-satisfied smirk on his face as if proposing a challenge he knew I couldn't refuse. "Those sound like some mighty famous last words."

I didn't even bother hiding my grin.

"They do, don't they?"


postscript

i did the thing

inhales

i've loved haikyuu for years but i didn't feel compelled to write about it until i reread a bunch of my favorite shoujo series and realized this is pretty much my only shot at writing about slice of life. that said i'm not used to writing romance in a traditional sense (re:without angst, non abstractly) so i'm hoping i can use this as a space to practice that to my heart's content :')

there will be multiple original characters introduced throughout the story but our main protagonists have made their debut in this chapter. if ur coming here from my other stories (especially hsc) i think it's inevitable that certain gestures or dialogue will feel familiar but i also hope to develop a distinct personality for kana that makes her seem very much like a real person. thank u for ur patience!

i'll try not to ramble because i am certain i will be including paragraphs upon paragraphs of author's notes in future chapters but if u want real time updates on this story or any of my others pls feel free to follow me at jngsjngs dot tumblr dot com! i'd appreciate any feedback here or there or ao3 (under the same username, hehe). thank u so much for reading!

p.p.s.

sutōkāna is stalker and kana and ninkishima is ninki (popular) and tsukishima