Kuroo, get'cha head in the game.

Atsumu left Ema's apartment around 8 in the morning the next day, game day, he not so subtly reminded her several times after she attempted to force him into eating a tub of ice cream with her. You're not helping me heal if you're not eating junk food with me, she had pouted. It's never fun to polish off an entire tub of cookie dough ice cream by yourself, after all; misery and ice cream love company. But, like the good professional athlete that he was, Atsumu restrained himself, feeling extra proud that he only stole three chunks of cookie dough the entire evening. By the time he left to rejoin the rest of his team at the hotel and start a light pre-game practice, Ema was feeling much more like herself. Still a little hollow, still a little unsure of where she stood in regards to her feelings, but further from the edge of tears and able to give a small smile to her best friend as he waved a see ya soon out the door.

Ema guiltily remembered ignoring her phone entirely the previous night and cringed at the number of notifications she had waiting for her once she finally checked in. There were at least ten more texts from Oikawa, all various threats to her coffee privileges if she continued to ignore him, a few from Yachi and Suga saying they hoped she felt better soon, and one confused text from Kuroo.

(22:12) From: Chemistry Idiot -

We're still going to the game tomorrow right?

Guilt compounded on guilt. She hadn't seen or spoken to Kuroo since making plans to go to the MSBY Black Jackals game on Tuesday. It was now Friday morning and she couldn't fault him for being confused. Ema had unintentionally ignored him outright.

(8:13) To: Chemistry Idiot -

Yes! Sorry had friend over last night and lost track of my phone

(8:13) From: History Girl -

We can meet at the station near Sips at 5:30? There's a good ramen place near the gym so we won't have to eat stadium food

Kuroo's idiot traitor heart actually fluttered. Friends grabbed dinner and went to volleyball games all the time, he was sure of it. Hell, he had gone to several games with Lev already this semester to support the university team (and so Lev could moon over Yaku on the sidelines.) There was no logical explanation for his stomach to have been in knots from Sonoda's lack of communication about their friendly outing. Because that's what it was, he reiterated. Friends. Having an outing.

(8:15) To: History Girl -

Sounds good!

Kuroo was sure he was under-caffeinated after debating if one or two exclamation marks was suitable.

Nervous energy was quickly translated into nervous overthinking as Kuroo debated the indignity of calling Lev or, god forbid, Kenma for advice on what outfit would make him appear simultaneously cool, not trying-too-hard, and friendly.

Lev snorted and shouted a very helpful "anything but pajamas" from across the apartment and Kenma had the audacity to look Kuroo in the eyes over their video call before hanging up in total silence.

A suitable change into black jeans and his favorite band tee, he felt a little more in control of himself.

##

Osamu hated the train. For all the marvels of modern technology, he couldn't fathom why someone out there hadn't invented teleporters yet. But what did he know, he wasn't a scientist. Trains were fast, sure, faster than driving, but Osamu was impatient. A trait he and his brother shared but one that he was far better at hiding. Besides the waiting and the awkward elbow-rubbing with strangers, trains had the worst food. Even a homemade bento stashed in his bag for later didn't quell the nausea he felt at the thought of other people eating the slop offered to them by fake-smiling staff. Offended by proxy. How those stuffy suited salarymen could stomach the pathetic excuse for onigiri in their ekiben honestly kept him up late at night.

The train journey from Osaka to Tokyo was something he figured he should be used to, by now. But no matter how many trips Osamu made back and forth, his distaste for this method of travel never really went away. And he wasn't a fucking rich city-boy like 'Tsumu's boyfriend who could afford to fly everywhere. His curiosity on how that particular arrangement worked quickly dissolved into pure, unadulterated twin annoyance as soon as Atsumu had called to let him know that "now that me n' Omi are together and Em's got Danny boy, we gotta fix ya up with someone so ma' can get off yer ass 'bout bein' lonely." Or something to that effect.

He didn't need 'Tsumu's help on that front and he sure as hell wasn't going to broach the subject with Ema. Nope. Not touching that topic with a ten foot pole. Not while he was still nursing the hurt of a decade-long crush on his next-door neighbor turned sister. Ya know, the one who's fuckin' engaged, he berated himself mentally whenever the feeling struck.

But, as much as Osamu hated trains, didn't want to be in the same room as his love-stupid twin and his urchin of a boyfriend, didn't want to be stuck on a night out with the girl he was still working to get over, here he was on the fucking 12:30 to Tokyo. His only consolation would be the endless ribbing he could give 'Tsumu alongside Rin, who was an honest to God saint for offering his couch so Osamu would have a place to crash when they all inevitably found some bar to party in after the game.

At least this trip meant he got to see some damn good volleyball. No shade to the Jackal's home arena in Osaka, but something about the Tokyo gyms just felt ever so slightly more special. Maybe it made him nostalgic for the time he spent there competing at nationals all throughout high school. He wasn't interested in searching his feelings too deeply about that. Osamu had made his peace with leaving the sport long ago and had zero regrets about walking his own path. Still, the memories were warm and fuzzy, even if his old school motto suggested their uselessness.

His other Tokyo trips of late had been much less fun but by no means less important. He hadn't shared the news with anyone outside Kita Shinsuke (like any human alive could withstand that penetrating gaze) but Onigiri Miya was expanding. Osamu's mouth twitched into a smile at the swell of pride he felt knowing his choice to follow his love of food was paying dividends. A Tokyo location would be the perfect way to shove it in 'Tsumu's dumb smug face that, yeah, Osamu was happy and successful too. Didn't need volleyball for it, either. His last trip into the city, a little under a month ago, resulted in signing a lease and making it all rosy and official. Soon he'd have the keys to the shop and could begin the heart-racing process of setting up— testing his menu and mettle on the big stage. All if he could just make it through one day and one night of dealing with his shit with Ema and ignoring Atsumu as much as possible.

Two and a half hours and one and a half bentos later, Osamu's train pulled into its destination. Suna Rintaro, self-appointed Miya paparazzi, antagonizer, and close friend, was there to meet him at the station. Rin wasn't the easiest person to be friends with, but he had an easy way of breaking down awkward tension to the point where Osamu wasn't entirely sure why he felt awkward in the first place. He was also the only person he had ever confided in about his crush on Ema. It hadn't been on purpose, though. Rin managed to weasel it out of him with a purely maniacal gambit that included both a bribe (his mom's miso katsu recipe) and blackmail (video of Osamu and Atsumu accidentally spraying soda all over Kita's locker.) To Rin's credit, he understood the gravity of Osamu's panic about his feelings and in a move that would have surprised anyone who knew one Suna Rintaro, he kept his lips zipped. Or maybe it was to lord the secret over Osamu, ensuring an easy favor ready to be cashed in at Rin's convenience. He wasn't sure and didn't want to think too hard about it.

No matter what happened that night, Osamu was guaranteed a good volleyball game, a chance to laugh at his brother's expense, and a comfortable place to crash. Anything else that transpired was labeled as 'deal with as needed.'

##

Kuroo knew the advantages of being tall. For one, it got him recruited to his middle school volleyball team, thus opening him up to a childhood and adolescence filled with his best friends and the most fun he could remember (that involved keeping his clothes on, anyway.) Another perk was the ability to see above the sea of heads on a busy early evening sidewalk. It made spotting Sonoda's light-colored hair, in her trademark ponytail, easy, and Kuroo found it an extremely comforting sight he had missed over the last couple of days.

"Sonoda!" He called out and waved one of his long arms high in the air to attract her attention. Not that he was desperate for her attention, or anything. The smile he received once she met his eyes was worth the extra stares he caught from the people rushing by him on the street. She was wearing a pair of denim shorts and an oversized black and gold hoodie, which Kuroo easily recognized as official MSBY merch. It looked well-loved and lived-in. Must be a bigger volleyball fan than I thought.

"Hey Kuroo." She greeted him warmly, happy to have a familiar face to distract her from the still unsettled feelings in her stomach. "I hope you don't mind but my friend wants to hang out after the game at this bar I know. You're welcome to come with us but I just thought I'd give you an out now before you're pressured into anything."

Fuck, considerate and cute.

"That sounds fun," He managed to squeak out. "I can't remember the last time I actually had a night out like that."

"Right? Grad school." Ema snorted and rolled her eyes in a familiar gesture.

They quickly descended the stairs into the train station, making easy small talk about their week; how classes had gone, how Suga was pining for some guy he glimpsed across campus on a morning run, how Lev was beside himself that both Yaku and Kuroo were abandoning him before a long shift. It was easy, familiar. Exactly what Ema had hoped would keep her distracted from sulking about Daniel.

Kuroo couldn't remember the last time he had ramen so warm and filling. The little hole-in-the-wall place that Ema had dragged them to, apparently near the EJP Raijin home gym, was simple in the best possible ways: a cheeky obaa-chan taking orders and barking them back to her husband in the kitchen, broth that could raise the dead, and the softest poached egg he had ever had the pleasure of sinking his chopsticks into. Not to mention the flushed pink of Ema's cheeks after consuming a full bowl of hot soup. The red paper lanterns that hung from the ceiling painted the entire restaurant in a warm glow and if Kuroo couldn't help himself imagine taking Ema there again and again, then so be it. He scoffed at the thought of Kenma suggesting that maybe he was "reading too much into it." What did he know, anyway?

Bellies full, they headed a few short blocks to the gym and, to Kuroo's surprise, to where tickets were waiting for them at will-call.

"Are the seats any good?" He asked, hoping they would have a full view of the court so that maybe, just maybe, he could show off a little with his volleyball knowledge. Though the idea of peacocking lost its shininess when he thought about how natural this all seemed for Sonoda. Aw hell she probably knows enough about the sport to know I'm showing off.

"Mmhm. They always are." She smiled mischievously and muttered something to the tune of 'he's too vain for anything less.'

Kuroo followed her lead as they made their way to the stands, eyes growing wider and wider as he realized their seats were box seats. Holy shit. He'd never had the pleasure of sitting somewhere so fancy before. These seats weren't the hard plastic folding ones, or even the backless metal benches he was used to. No, the seats in the reserved box had cushions and cup holders! Freaking cup holders. Not to mention an absolutely flawless view of the court. When Sonoda swiveled around to make sure he was still behind her, she laughed lightly at his star-struck expression.

"I told you they were good seats. Now come on, I want to see who else made it for the game." For a split second, Kuroo thought he saw her arm raise towards his, a fleeting thing that made his stomach tight. It almost looked like she was reaching for his hand. He dumbly followed eyes trained on the hand at her side. He would have run into her had he not looked up at the last second to see that Sonoda had stopped walking.

In front of them, Kuroo could see two men, both with jet black hair and matching disinterested expressions. One had hair that was on the longer side, straight, and fell just above his blue eyes. The other's hair had a slight curl to it and he wore square-framed glasses, the glare from the bright gymnasium lights shining off of them.

"Akaashi-san, Kageyama-san, it's good to see you again." She gave the two men a polite wave and smile. Both heads swiveled like birds in their direction. Glasses man returned her smile and nodded.

"It is good to see you again as well, Sonoda-san." The other man nodded without comment. "Don't worry about Kageyama-kun, his head is in game-mode, even though he's not playing today." The man Kuroo surmised was Akaashi chuckled.

"That's fine, I don't want to bother him if he needs to focus. Oh, this" Ema nodded at Kuroo, "Is my friend, Kuroo Tetsuro." Kuroo plastered on his best "new people" smile.

"Nice to meet you, Kuroo-san." Akaashi gave him a polite but curt nod.

The pair took their seats, Kuroo next to the aisle with Sonoda beside him. The seat next to her remained empty, with Akaashi occupying the one beside it. Kageyama sat another few seats away, mumbling to himself and writing on a small steno pad. All four of them sat in an uncomfortable silence as the teams entered the court to begin their warm-ups. Kuroo noticed a couple of Black Jackals players glancing over to where they were sitting, knowing smiles on their faces, and giving each other joking shoves. Oh shit, Kuroo sat stunned. This is the friends and family of the team section. In particular, MSBY number twelve couldn't seem to keep his eyes off of their spot in the crowd, sending blinding smiles their way.

"Bokuto-san seems excited tonight." Sonoda mused out loud. Akaashi snorted, showing the most emotion Kuroo had seen since they arrived.

"My editing team met an important deadline earlier this week so I'll have more free time than usual for this trip."

"Ah. Guess we won't be seeing much of you after the game, then." Ema smirked as Akaashi's cheeks reddened for a moment.

Kuroo was so engrossed in the warm-ups, marveling at watching players he'd only seen on TV in action (god, EJP's number nine was an even better blocker than he remembered), he didn't notice another person standing directly next to him in the aisle.

"This ain't the scrub section, ya know." A teasing voice rang out. But when Kuroo started and looked at the man in the aisle, he saw that the teasing did not reach his eyes. Grey, hard eyes stared directly at him, challenging. His dark brown hair was close cropped at the sides, with slightly unkempt bangs poking out from underneath his baseball cap which sported a chibi onigiri.

"Oh my god shut the fuck up 'Samu." Ema groaned. Akaashi snorted again.

"Ema this scrub is in my fuckin' seat what am I supposed ta say?" Kuroo's neck felt like it was going to snap trying to turn his head back and forth between the two of them. He'd never felt like such a bystander before. It took him a moment to recover and settle back into himself.

"You could say, wow, he's so handsome, I'm so lucky he's in my seat." Kuroo did his best to give this guy his biggest heart-eyes and his sleaziest grin. His retort sent Ema into rolling laughter and Akaashi had to cover his mouth to hide his amusement. Kageyama stared at them for a brief moment before returning his laser focus to the court, and to MSBY number twenty-one.

"Come on 'Samu, I saved you a seat right next to me, the least you could do is be nice to Kuroo." Ema sent him a chastising glare after she had finished her laughing fit. Osamu's ears went pink, both from embarrassment and from the chance to sit so close to Ema.

"How was I supposed ta know you brought a guest." He grumbled and shuffled past their legs to sit in the empty seat between Ema and Akaashi. Ema elbowed him in the gut.

"Be nice."

"Why? How do I know he's not scrub?"

"Is that your favorite word?" Kuroo interjected. Oh he hadn't been on a roll like this since Lev got his hand stuck in a vending machine.

"You too, Kuroo." She sent him a look that, while it was meant to knock him down a peg, clearly showed she was enjoying herself. "Kuroo Tetsuro, Miya Osamu."

"Whatever." Osamu mumbled and kicked his feet up to rest on the railing in front of them.

"Likewise, I'm sure."

Yes this chapter title is 1000% in reference to High School Musical. Is Kuroo Troy or Gabriella? Will I stop clowning Kuroo and the Miyas? We may never know (absolutely not)