Author's Note: thanks for reading! I normally need feedback to motivate myself to write - even if it's not reviews, but just follows or something - but these dorks are so cute and fun it luckily didn't matter so much this time. But it still meant the world to me when y'all reviewed/followed/favorited this story, because while I didn't need a response, it was still flattering to get some sort of reaction to the work and time I put into this short story. So, thank you very much! You rock!

"This week, on the Bachelorette…"

He had thought the zombies were scary, but this was worse, much worse. Nineteen men were staring at him, some frowning in jealousy, some just blinking curiously, like they'd forgotten he'd even existed. He felt cold all over, even with Hinata's soft fingers holding his hand, trying to pass the white one-on-one date card to him.

"Take it, Kageyama-kun," the dancer pleaded, pushing the paper at him again, this time with more insistence. The cameras around them greedily tracked the motion. Kageyama grimaced, snatching the envelope away with too much force. Luckily, it didn't tear. He crumpled it slightly in his shaking hands, staring down at the black lines.

"Kageyama Tobio: please join me for a blast from the past."

That was indeed his name. He was going on the one-on-one date with Kiyoko. If he failed, he might not be able to stick around for another week. This could be the end. Of everything.

"You'll be fine!" Hinata said, smiling, but it wasn't as bright as usual, and that scared Kageyama more than he expected, his dread spiraling into a full out panic. The dancer stumbled to fix his mistake, looking into the crowd for help, "Right, guys?"

No one could ever say Tanaka and Noya weren't reliable. "Yeah!" Tanaka-san yelled, violently ruffling the taller man's hair. Ow, ow, ow! Noya slammed into him from behind, and the two toppled to the ground, barely missing the corner of the coffee table as his breath got knocked out of him.

It was Oikawa-san that snapped him out of his hysteria, though.

"Just be yourself, Tobio-chan," the actor said, lowly, frowning down at them with his hands on his hips, looking like a model himself.

Kageyama breathed in, thumping his head on the ground. Oikawa was right. He had to be himself. He hadn't ever been one for artificial niceties, always truthful to the point of alienating everyone around him. He was also a terrible liar. If Kiyoko didn't like him, there wasn't anything he could do about it.

"Or maybe not," Oikawa continued after a moment of thought, a finger on his chin, and Kageyama turned to glare at him. The actor ignored him, his eyes shining playfully, "Try to be a less stupid version of yourself."

Ignoring the second addition, Kageyama centered himself with the fact that no matter what, he had made it this far. No one could say he hadn't tried.

Unfortunately, this newfound calm disappeared the next day, as soon as Kiyoko joined the group of men outside near the pool. They had gathered in the raised area of the deck, sitting in a wide circle on a row of couches, chairs, and a set of three square storage benches topped with a thin layer of cushion.

The camera crew idled nearby, fanning out around them to get all the good angles. It was unapologetically staged, but Kageyama couldn't find it in himself to really care at the moment; he was about to leave anyway, so what did this one (probably only three seconds, anyway) scene even matter.

"Hello, everyone," the leading lady greeted the group politely, walking over in a cute but casual knee-length dress the color of roses. She hesitantly sat down in the middle of the couch as the men shuffled off to the side to give her more room.

No one else noticed, except maybe Kageyama and Noya, who was sitting nearby, how Terushima picked up Hinata by the back of his shirt and haphazardly tossed him a few seats over. The dancer blinked rapidly at the change of scenery, before realization sunk in. Then he was turning a deep, deep red, and puffing out his cheeks angrily.

"You look gorgeous," Terushima said, winking flirtatiously as he ran a hand through his hair.

"Thank you," Kiyoko responded, tucking in her chin bashfully. She turned to Kageyama, looking very ready to leave the horde of men, "Are you ready, Tobio-kun?"

Kageyama nodded, and then said, belatedly, "Yes!"

He felt so stiff and unnatural, like he didn't fit in his own body. He wasn't made out for this life; he wished he couldn't see the cameras right now, tracking his every move, zooming in and out. Maybe they'd edit it all out, he told himself optimistically, but that rang so false it actually worsened his already bleak mood.

"Have fun!" Hinata cheered over whatever Terushima was saying, butting into the conversation through sheer willpower. Kiyoko looked back at Kageyama, helplessly, and he knew what he had to do to move this whole moment along.

"I'm excited for our first one-on-one date, Kiyoko-san!" he said, bowing down more intensely than he'd meant to. He straightened up and offered his hand for her to take, ignoring everyone else with a forced calmness. "Shall we get started?"

Not that he even knew what they were doing. But anywhere was better than here.

"Yes, please," she responded, just as cordially, but her smile was thankful. She nodded at the group before taking his hand. Her palms were warm, and he didn't want to let go of that grounding feeling, so he didn't. Kiyoko smiled up at him and gave his hand a comforting squeeze, not letting go either.

They left the house together, holding hands, and Kageyama sighed through his nose once he couldn't see the other eighteen men anymore.

"It's a lot," Kiyoko agreed, easily reading his expression.

He ducked his head, hiding his eyes as he nodded. He felt so nervous, but he didn't want to ruin this.

She squeezed his hand before he could start rambling. "Let's just try to have fun, okay? No expectations, not right now. It's just the two of us."

And their producers, with their fifteen cameras, and then soon an entire nation of viewers.

Kageyama felt his shoulders curve as he tried to make himself smaller, so he forcefully pushed away the intrusive thoughts, reminding himself over and over: be yourself, be yourself, be yourself. He wasn't alone. Not this time. He could do this!

"You look very pretty," he told her earnestly, rubbing the back of his neck, catching a camera moving a little more to the left in his peripheral vision.

"Thank you," the model answered sweetly, leaning into his side. He stared down at the top of her head, the cameras disappearing for just a moment as he breathed in. She looked up at him, but his heart didn't thrum wildly against his chest like it had done with... "I'm glad this date is with you, Tobio-kun."

"Um, me too," he said, lacking anything else to say. He shut his mouth tightly, swallowing the follow up clarification of "with you, I mean" because absolutely not. He was on a televised reality show where he was only allowed to date her. He didn't need to make himself seem any more stupid than he already looked.

Kiyoko was nice. She was beautiful, kind, and smart. So why did he feel like he wasn't meant to be here anymore?

Maybe he just needed to give the date a chance, get to know the leading lady a bit better. It had only been two weeks, after all. He just had to survive this one date, no big deal.

To his immense relief, the date wasn't anything dangerous or frightening, which should have made him immediately suspicious. As they leisurely walked around the historic downtown district, occasionally reading markers offering up interesting facts about the area (from agriculture to marine life), Kageyama actually thought it was going well. It wasn't particularly enthralling, but it was still very pleasant.

Kiyoko looked at ease as they started talking about their history with sports, shifting over so a group of boys could pass them on the sidewalk, fully decked out in a university team's grey-white jersey. Kageyama confided in her about his accident in college, feeling more open about the incident since the water volleyball game. The wounds were still there, but it didn't feel so raw and sensitive anymore. And in return, he listened attentively as Kiyoko revealed her own involvement in track and field and then her experiences as a model.

The date was easier than he'd thought; Kiyoko reminded him a bit of Suga-san. Both of them were very warmhearted people. It was going very well, all things considered. Which is why Kageyama was not as surprised as he should have been when he saw two very tall, very familiar men pass by them as they were about to cross the street.

It was a blast from the past, alright. Sometimes, he hated the producers and their scheming.

...o0o…

"What are you doing?" Suga asked, utterly bewildered as he took in the scene in front of him.

Kageyama was sitting on the floor by the couch, an entire tub of ice cream in his lap (the highly decadent kind: vanilla topped with oreos and fudge and even rainbow sprinkles), with a fuzzy blanket draped over his head like a misshapen hoodie. The taller man avoided his eyes and instead scooped up a bite of his dessert, hiding under the curve of the blanket.

"Why are you not sitting on the couch like a normal person?" the silver-haired counselor bemoaned, ignoring everything else and making his way to his usual spot. He ran his fingers along the arm of the couch for the remote. "Is this about the new episode tonight? If you don't want to watch it, we don't have to."

"No," Kageyama muttered softly, raising his eyes. They looked a bit too wide to be normal. He had his phone next to him, sitting screen-up on the floor. "I want to see how they edit it. It's an important episode."

"If you're sure," Suga answered hesitatingly, but turned the TV on, finding the right channel.

His phone lit up in a text and Kageyama dove for it, punching in the passcode quickly. Suga peered over his shoulder unrepentantly.

Hinata Shouyou (Dumbass): Ohhhh this is your one-on-one date! ᕕ(◉Д◉ )ᕗ Uwahhh, I'm so excited!

Kageyama wrote and then rewrote his answer five different times. Suga couldn't look away. "Write something," he advised after Kageyama erased an entire paragraph.

He frowned at him, huffing and then typing in, very slowly so Suga could see he was texting the dancer back: yeah. He hit 'send' with a flourish befitting a king.

Suga smacked the back of his head, laughing. "Not what I meant, but okay."

Kageyama opened his mouth but Suga shook his head, pointing at the screen's opening title. "Ready?"

"As I'll ever be."

...o0o…

"Kindaichi, Kunimi," Kageyama greeted, his face thankfully blank and free of his internal panic. He raised his free hand towards Kiyoko, the model looking so much more elegant and vibrant compared to him, "This is Kiyoko Shimizu."

"Hello," she said, bowing her head politely.

"N-nice to meet you," the spiky-haired man mumbled, peering down at them curiously before turning helplessly to his partner. Kindaichi could be just as awkward as Kageyama when faced with unexpected situations, he remembered. His old classmates were both wearing a familiar university team's grey jersey, Tamaden Elephants written in large block letters on the front.

Kunimi accepted the plea for help and shuffled in front of his friend, partially covering him from the cameras spanning out around them like a ring of sharks in an open sea, tasting fresh blood. Kageyama looked away, trying to keep his breathing even as Kunimi asked, with a pointed look at the equipment around them, "So what have you been up to, Kageyama-kun? Are you an actor now?"

"Not doing volleyball anymore?" Kindaichi questioned, this time with a bite in his words as he sent a heated look over Kunimi's head. He remembered that same look in high school, bright and mean across the net with Oikawa a fierce rival by their side in immaculate white and trimmed blue. In the present, he missed Kunimi and Kindaichi's shared glance of confusion at his silence.

You tyrant King, he heard on repeat, and it felt like he was a teenager again, failing to escape the shadows and cruel whispers.

"He's a physical therapist, actually," Kiyoko answered for him, tugging at their connected hands a bit worriedly when the quiet grew too long. She smiled, but the soft edges were sharpening protectively the more Kageyama shrunk into himself.

"Oh, that's surprising," Kunimi said, his eyes still drooping sleepily even as his gaze focused on him thoughtfully. Kindaichi straightened in shock, staring flabbergasted at his old setter. "Did something happen?"

Was that… concern? Of course it wasn't, it couldn't be. The three had separated on harsh terms after graduating high school after years upon years of cold, cutthroat competition; his new teammates in college seemed to know of his old reputation, and it had only gone downhill from there, leading to him working himself too hard and busting up his shoulder after the millionth late-night practice to get better, be better.

He knew he had to answer them. But this was being filmed, and despite the litany of blunders he was undoubtedly going to be sharing to the entire nation, Kageyama found it hard to speak. It was like there was something in his throat, blocking the words and then the air and his skin felt on fire and it was getting hard to breathe and—

—and Kiyoko squeezed his hand, hard and painfully sharp as her nails dug into the back of his hand. He blinked through the tangled spiderwebs obscuring his vision to stare down at her impassive expression, but her stormy blue eyes were round with care. Except instead of feeling grounded by the sight of a pretty, kind woman by his side, he wanted the warm cocoon of Hinata leaning into him, barely meeting his shoulders with a birdsnest of chaotic orange curls. He wanted the dumbass next to him, shouting his head off at the slightest provocation, he wanted… Hinata. He wanted Hinata.

Breathe, he ordered himself and his body obliged. Once he'd grounded himself just enough, he raised his head to see Kindaichi and Kunimi staring worriedly at the couple. Kunimi sighed quietly when their eyes met.

"Kageyama," he said, but then stopped, at a loss for words. He glared drowsily at the ground, looking frustrated at himself.

Kindaichi took his place, eyeing the cameras again with a cautious, uncomfortable look. "Listen, it's been years since we last saw each other and we've all changed. But I'm, uh, I'm glad you're happy where you are now?"

It was phrased as a question because was Kageyama even happy? He wasn't playing volleyball anymore and that had been his world when he was younger. But beyond that, Kageyama couldn't stop himself from frowning intensely at the two; it was like trying to solve a puzzle that kept on shifting, always one step ahead of him.

"Thank you," he answered stiffly, and Kiyoko kindly shuffled slightly in front of him. His shoulders relaxed an inch at the small distance put between them and he squeezed her hand once in appreciation. "I hope you are both happy too?"

"Uh yeah, yeah." An awkward pause. "Thanks."

"Well!" Kindaichi said, clapping loudly and startling his tired companion into giving him the stink eye. "Sorry for interrupting your date!" He bowed his spiky head of hair, pulling Kunimi down with him.

Then, without further ado, his old teammate marched into the crosswalk, pulling his sluggish friend with him. Kunimi, looking over his shoulder and above the group of shorter pedestrians crossing the opposite way, called loudly, "Good luck!" And though it made no sense — luck for what, for the date? That would be so rude! — the words loosened an invisible weight around his neck.

He stared vacantly at the crosswalk sign flickering into a red figure standing still. He moved his feet robotically in the opposite direction.

After only two weeks, Kageyama had formed a crush on another contestant on nation-wide television made for finding true love with an amazing leading lady.

Kiyoko laughed a bit unsurely, looking up at him as they weaved in and out of pedestrian traffic on the sidewalk. "Are you okay?"

Not trusting himself to speak, he nodded.

Behind him, the producers were scrambling to keep up.

Despite feeling like the world was shaking under his feet in a perpetual earthquake targeting only him, his heart felt calm. He couldn't lie to himself anymore and that was freeing. He clutched Kunimi's parting "good luck" like it was an offered wish in a fairy tale and promised to come true. The semblance of control gave him courage.

They ended up settling into a quaint cafe near a canal noted for its wildlife; swans peacefully floated on top of the water as ducks dove again and again, sometimes successful, sometimes not.

"This was nice," Kiyoko told them as they split a cinnamon roll, the sunset painting her face a soft orange. Sharp shadows cut weird shapes on their skin. "You have some interesting friends, Tobio-kun," she noted casually.

There was a thornless rose spinning between her fingers and a thoughtful look in her eyes. She opened her mouth, leaning forward.

It was now or never. He almost wanted to be selfish; if she offered him the rose, he'd have another week with Hinata, another week with his cheerful smile and competitive games. But that wasn't fair, to any of them, so it really wasn't a choice at all.

Kageyama eyed the cameras, and then, with all his determination, rested his hand on top of hers, the rose now held between them.

"I… can't," he whispered, his voice breaking, and he was very mindful of the microphone pinned to his shirt, another added weight on his chest. There was a pressure building behind his eyes but he forced himself to continue, "You're an amazing person, Kiyoko-san. But I can't."

She didn't look upset at the rejection, but that was only because surprise had frozen her features, even as her eyes shone with building confusion and concern.

He rushed to explain, "It's not because of Kindaichi or Kunimi or this date. I mean, not exactly. I just… something happened," he finished lamely, losing heat. "With me. I'm not ready."

The model let out a surprised laugh, and even that sounded elegant and beautiful. The confusion had cleared into clarity, and she squeezed his hand warmly. "I didn't expect I'd be getting the 'it's not you, it's me' routine during this process."

He panicked, waving his hands wildly because no but she just laughed harder, doubling over as she snorted into her lap. After a moment, she raised her head, genuine mirth on her face. "It's okay, Tobio-kun. Thank you for letting me get to know you for this long."

She abandoned the rose on the table and reached over, taking his hand into hers, warm and soft. "Don't give up."

It was a riddle, but this one was meant to lift him up if he could solve it instead of tricking him.

"Stay in touch," she told him seriously, writing down her number on a napkin when they separated for different rides. He had to go back to the house, pack up his things, say goodbye to everyone. And then he would be getting in a limo headed for the airport to just… live his life.

It felt like he was ending a new chapter of his life that had only just begun.

...o0o...

It started out with the usual fluff: the producers did not, in fact, cut out the awkward silence when the group were all by the pool awaiting their ride. Unfortunately, they drew it out even worse: there were shots of different contestants, with their eyes moving between Kageyama and the leading lady in awkward amusement, and the music was the absolute worst, corny and stilted but still romantic enough to be on the show.

As the show continued, they only included two scenes of Kiyoko and Kageyama talking, holding hands as they walked around the old town, but it lacked any of the actual conversation, making the two seem very gawky and out of place.

Kageyama's phone vibrated and, grateful for the distraction, he immediately opened it.

Hinata Shouyou (Dumbass): What did you do to the producers to make them hate you so much?!

Nothing! He quickly texted back furiously, looking up through his eyelashes as the two of them stopped at the crosswalk, passing two tall volleyball teammates.

In real life, when Kindaichi and Kunimi had entered the picture, Kageyama and Kiyoko were already friendly and chatting amiably; the editing made it seem like it was still at the awkward, nervous part of their date.

Hinata Shouyou (Dumbass): I don't believe you.

He didn't believe himself either, honestly, scowling at the television.

"Is that Kindaichi and Kunimi?" Suga asked, leaning closer to the screen. "Oh shit," he cursed, turning to look at Kageyama like he needed to be pinched.

He nodded, grimacing. Nope, not a dream.

"I knew Kindaichi and Kunimi in middle school," the on-screen Kageyama admitted to the confession camera, looking very unsettled as he shifted from foot to foot. His face was set in a cold, angry scowl as he glared down at his shoes. "We were old teammates who had a falling out before graduation."

"Oof, your thinking face looks scary," Suga-san bemoaned, peeking through his fingers like he was watching a horror movie.

The scene cut to show the four of them meeting each other, looking surprised and slightly horrified by the chance encounter. Kindaichi gave an uncomfortable glance at the cameras, but the focus was completely on the contestant's (his) petrified, panicking face as he took everything in.

Oh, he had thought he'd hidden his horror pretty well, at the time.

"...pretty date…" the spiky-haired man said under his breath, barely picked up by the mics. Luckily, or unluckily if you asked Kageyama, there were orange captions for the audience to read. "I'm surprised—"

Kunimi, still looking sleepy, even with the set of cameras and people behind him watching like a hawk, interrupted too casually, "So what've you been up to, Kageyama-kun? Are you an actor now?"

"Nice save," Suga-san muttered, knowing exactly what the old volleyball player had been about to say on nation-wide television.

"I don't even remember Kindaichi saying any of that," he muttered, squinting at the screen. The wonders of technology. He peeked at his phone, but there wasn't a new message. Nervously, barely paying attention to the background noise of the show, he typed out:

Pls don't hate me by the end of the episde

And he sent it before he could erase it, his heart thundering in his ears, seeing only the black kanji contrasting starkly against the white background of the messenger app. There was no taking it back.

The response was immediate.

Hinata Shouyou (Dumbass): (゜ロ゜)

Hinata Shouyou (Dumbass): I would never! BAKAGEYAMA! (ʘ言ʘ╬)

Hinata Shouyou (Dumbass): why tho? What did you do?

His muscles loosened and there was a small smile flitting across his face. Dutifully, Kageyama started punching in an answer when another text came through, seconds after the previous one.

Hinata Shouyou (Dumbass): no spoilers

Hinata Shouyou (Dumbass): but I coul d never hate u! (ΘεΘʃƪ)

"Awwwww," Suga crooned and Kageyama turned his head to the television, wondering what had happened to invoke such a response. On the television, past-Kageyama and Kiyoko were splitting a cinnamon roll, and the music was jarring and disjointed, not the soft, melodious tone he was used to hearing for the one-on-one dates in previous episodes.

Confused, he turned back to his friend. Suga was staring back at him, his hazel eyes twinkling mischievously. Slowly, Kageyama looked back at the texts and, re-reading it, blushed a vibrant pink, all the way to his ears.

"You have a date next week, right?" Suga-san asked, reaching out to ruffle his hair.

He let him, instead thinking about his answer as he scooped up a bite of rainbow sprinkles. "I'm not sure it's a date, Suga-san. What if he just wants to meet up because we were, sort of, friends during filming?"

The counselor hummed noncommittally, but an eyebrow arched in slight disbelief. Yet true to form, he didn't give him an answer and instead said vaguely, "You should ask him, then."

Kageyama stared down at his phone, chewing his bottom lip. No. He'd see how the date... the dinner went before doing anything rash.

...o0o…

The house was mostly empty and quiet when Kageyama returned. He heard voices — loud, excited, friendly — through the open window in the living room. The guys must have gathered by the pool, as was usual, while they awaited his return and gossiped about the date. There were a few men grabbing a refill of their chosen alcoholic drink when he passed the kitchen, trying to sneak upstairs without anyone seeing him.

One of the guys saw him almost immediately, and raised his bottle of beer in cheerful curiosity. "How'd it go, man?"

His friend's eyes zeroed in on his empty hands and he grimaced in kind commiseration. "Hey, there's still the rose ceremony, you're not out yet," he said. Except he was wrong: Kageyama was out.

Of his own volition.

"Right," he said, just to end the conversation there, and hurried up the stairs without looking back. They were probably going to go right out to the pool to share the latest news: the socially awkward PT in training failed to get a rose on his one-on-one date, oh the drama!

Normally, Kageyama was pretty fast at packing up; he was practical about what he brought, only the essentials and the occasional volleyball. But this time, he blew away his usual number, almost forgetting his toothbrush and shampoo in his haste to stuff everything into the suitcases, no need for organization of any kind.

He took the stairs two steps at a time, his suitcases trailing behind him with a bump-bump-bump of farewell.

The voices were still rowdy and animated as he lugged his things through the living room. He heard his name and stopped, rooted to the floor, a pressure building behind his eyes. He bit down his lip, forcing himself to keep moving.

"—Kageyama-kun!" Hinata yelled and Kageyama froze again, fearful but also almost… excited. But Hinata wasn't standing in front of him, his eyes on fire. Instead, the loud voice continued to shout out something unintelligible from the infinity pool.

And when his heart rate slowed down, the crises averted, Kageyama realized he couldn't face Hinata. Ripping off this band aid would only worsen the wound. So he picked up his pace and all but ran to the front door.

He couldn't face the pity goodbyes. Not from him.

"Wha— Tobio-chan?" Oikawa-san was standing in the hallway to the front door, half-way squished against the wall as he peered calculatingly through his designer eyeglasses with wide eyes, taking in Kageyama's expression and then the bags in his hand. His expression shifted from surprise to confusion. "What are you doing? Did you actually get sent home?"

He sounded disbelieving. Kageyama thought his old rival would have been happy to not have him stinking up the place anymore.

"Whatever," he said, shouldering past him, but Oikawa grabbed his shoulder — it stung, the old wound flaring up hotly — and pulled him back.

Kageyama lashed out, slapping away the hand with an anger he thought he'd gotten a handle on years ago.

Oikawa took a large step back, raising his hands placating, like Kageyama was a spooked animal. But instead of smirking or looking down his nose, Oikawa said, softly, like a ghost of breath on a cold day, "Aren't you going to say goodbye to everyone?"

"No."

Oikawa frowned then, looking familiarly disappointed — it was nothing new, but it still hurt, goddamn it — before his mask reformed only to just… crack down the middle, gone in an instant, replaced by a look of genuine, exasperated care. Kageyama blinked rapidly, holding his breath at the sight.

"Tobio-chan, you're making a mistake." The actor rubbed his hair, messing up the meticulously styled curls as Kageyama stared, "Just say goodbye. It'll be okay, I promise."

But even with this weird, new Oikawa looking back at him, so sincere, Kageyama couldn't put his heart through the blender again. Not this time.

"I can't. Goodbye and good luck, Oikawa-san." He bowed his head, hiding his expression. "Please tell Hinata and everyone else that I wish them the best."

He left Oikawa to stare at his back as he opened the door.

There was limo waiting for him out front, shiny and sleek, and he had a flashback to when he had first arrived. Except it wasn't Kiyoko that he pictured now, soft and elegant and kind, but a short redhead dancer full of a wild, raging fire as strong as twin suns.

He never saw Hinata rush to the window as he got into the ride, his adorable face squished against the glass as he fumbled to open the latch. Oikawa was by the dancer's side with his arms crossed over his chest, frowning severely. In silence, they watched the limousine drive off.

.

tbc

.

Author's Note: looool, what a self-sacrificing idiot, omg. I mean, I know it turns out okay (obviously, because Hinata started texting him in like the second chapter haha) but STILL. One more chapter to go! There were originally only going to be five chapters, but Kageyama had to do some long, angsty soul searching before I could throw Hinata into his arms, I guess. Sorry!

Also, I'm not super happy with this chapter and rewrote it three different times. But I know, since I'm an avid reader of fanfics more than a writer, that any chapter is better than no chapter. So hopefully it's okay? If it sucks and you want me to rewrite it, I totally can! Just lemme know. I'm trying, you guys.

Also also (completely unrelated but) I make AMVs for fun on YouTube and I'm working on a new Haikyuu AMV that doesn't just focus on just Karasuno, and I hate editing with Oikawa with a severe passion. He's so mean. I get that he's a complex character and all, but I still hate his (unfairly pretty) judgmental face. He's so much nicer in fanfics.