24 years old Tsukishima Kei is a fledgeling math teacher at Ishinomaki Elementary School.
Numbers are his passion.
6th graders are not.
Not that Kei hates kids or something. He wouldn't become a teacher if he did.
But mathematics is a true enabler when it comes to a college degree and then, a decent job. Tsukishima had faced his own issues with underachievement. It's only natural he would push his pupils to pursue ambitious goals.
It's just that...12 year olds are lazy and spoiled. Especially certain Kozume Kenma, his genius student. And a horrible underachiever.
Tsukishima tried, he really tried. He discussed Kenma's obvious knack for numbers with his mother. The boy could be a genius, with his intuition for problem-solving, since he probably never studied for a single test, yet scores around 50% every single time.
Kei could push that to a 90%, scratch that, a full 100%.
But every time he sees Kenma sitting alone on the corridor, the boy scoffs and buries his nose in a gaming console he keeps bringing to school.
"His mother is such a kind person. Who did he get that from? Father, perhaps?" - Kei muses, as he leans on his desk, waiting for more pissed parents to confront him. That has been happening a lot recently.
During the break, Kei receives several complaints about "dropping grades", either by phone or physically (Yeah, some parents actually dare to come meet him in person) .
"How many times must I explain that your children's former teacher half-assed the syllabus and I'm doing everything to smooth it out?"
He is irritated.
What happens after the break doesn't fix his mood either.
Lesson with 6.4
...
Kozume Kenma.
...
Dyed his hair blonde.
-"DaddyDaddyDaddyDaddy!"- Shouyou squeals, bouncing on Bokuto's stomach.
It has been a month since he started calling him that. Since kids from preschool started asking uncomfortable questions.
Koutarou wakes up from his nap under the tree and squints his eyes.
A park, right. Shouyou was playing with Takeru, Oikawa's nephew. That's how Tooru discovered The Hoot Cafe. A small talk in the middle of scolding two stubborn five-year-olds for chasing a cat. Poor little creature.
-"What is it?" - He slurs, still slightly drowsy from sleep.
-"Uncle Tooru is taking Takeru to his violin practice..." - He scrunches his nose in dissaproval. - "Even though Take-chan doesn't like it very much. You won't make me do these things, right? One kid from my preschool has to dance in frilly costumes once a week and he hates it."
-"I would never do that to you, buddy!" - Koutarou bursts into laughter and messes with Shouyou's wild mane.
-"Ah, right. How could I forget! Remember Tobio? You've met him once, when uncle Suga visited us. He is going to join you at daycare. How fun is that?"
Shouyou's face goes white as chalk.
Tsukishima raises one eyebrow.
-"What is the meaning of this?"
He is staring at a figure sitting accross him. A tall, lean man with jet black hair, styled ridiculously. 'We don't live in the 80's, for fuck's sake. Also, is that eyebrow piercing? And earrings?'
Mentioned man scratches his neck bashfully.
-"Well...Mom refused to come, claiming "It's not her fault, and that I have to take responsibility".
Kei proceeds to shower him with questions.
-"Did Kenma ask you to dye his hairtips like that? Are you aware that it's against the school's principles? Can you rever-"
-Stop, stop, stop!" - Kuuro raises his hand in front of Tsukishima's face. The teacher loses his tongue, taken aback.
-"Kenma was mad about something and kept nagging me about the hairdo, okay? I had no idea he wanted to piss you off, teach. Scout's honor!"
Tsukishima regains his cool and scowls.
-"You don't really look like a former scout, mister..."
-"Kuroo tetsurou. Kenma's older brother. From another father, but still. I would...Okay, I'm not saying I wouldn't do that." - He snickers, that bastard. - "But I would have "reconsidered" the hairdo, had I known it was targeted at you somehow."
Then Tetsuro muses, rolling up his sleeves absentmindedly. His arms are tattooed, Kei dully notes, not surprised anymore.
-"Kenma doesn't like being pushed. I know he has a potential. You have to be blind to disregard it. But he won't do something if it's not...fun." - the corners of his mouth twitch a little and Tsukishima thinks he has an idea of what the man labeled as "not-fun". Math, that is.
He sighs.
-"Anyway, maybe it's for the better if you can't wash the dye down. The moment his black roots start to show, he might reconsider this foolish decision. And hopefully never do that again."
Kuroo chuckles.
-"Prof, it seems you understand teenagers pretty well. Were you that edgy? An Emo, perhaps?" He wiggles his eyebrows and receives a death glare.
-"I think this conversation is over, Kuroo-san." - The icy tone provokes Tetsu even more.
-"You wanna prolong this conversation over a drink?"
Professor slaps his palm on the tabletop slightly.
-"Out of my classroom, Kuroo-san!"
-"Tch, Come on, one drink, would it be all that bad?"
-Kuuro-san, I'm your brother's teacher. It is inappropriate for me to...fraternize with you. Not to mention I don't like you very much" - Tsukishima scrunches his nose slightly.
Tetsuro groans.
-"Ouch, Spoilsport."
26 years old Oikawa Tooru is a sports medicine physician and sports psychologist. A very reputable one, at that.
But amongst his various patients, he is primarily his best friend's private dietrician and workout advisor.
"-Oi, Trashykawa, what's wrong with you today?"
Oh right, he spaced out again.
Somewhere between discusing the amount of protein in Hajime's diet and taking his bloodtests, a memory of Suga's distressed expression started nagging at the back of his head.
-"You're not cracking that empty head of your over this weekend's match, are you?" - He scowls. -" I told you, it's okay if you don't come. Everybody understands."
Tooru jolts, as if thunderstruck.
-"I wasn't even thinking about that. And what do you mean by 'Everybody understands'?!" - Shit, had he misinterpreted something? Wrong place, wrong time for a conversation like this. Hajime flinches as the tension in the office becomes unbearable. The athlete was a tough nut when it comes to anything...besides his best friend's condition.
He braces himself for what's about to come.
-"I'm doing fine, thank you very much.
-"I know."
-"And I'm very proud of all of you. Kunimi-chan, Kindaichi, Yahaba-chan, everyone. But especially you, my Ace."
-"I-We know."
-"And Seijou Volleyball Association is at it's highiest career peak." - he spews that one through clenched teeth.
-"Y-Yes, it is."
Oikawa goes silent for a while. His eyes glued to the wall above Hajime's head.
The latter gulps nervously.
-"Iwa-chan...Remember how you always called me a bastard with a shitty personality? Well...I am one." - he quietens down once again.
They don't bring it up during Iwaizumi's physical examinations. Iwa knows better than to ask questions.
Oikawa is known to be bipolar, switching between moods unhealthily quickly. And now, as if to lighten the mood, he playfully mentions an eye candy he has met recently.
-"Sugawara, sounds like sugar, right? He has an adorable mole under of his left eye. I will show you some photos, if I ever take any sneaky ones."
-"You are a creep". - At that, Tooru giggles, and the atmosphere becomes less and less stuffy.
-"Funny, I've heard that recently, surprisingly."
-"No shit."
Another half an hour of bickering and Oikawa ushers Iwaizumi outside his office.
Hajime is in his top form, fortunately.
As he turns to leave the building, Tooru stops him one last time.
-"Iwa-chan. I want to support you, and I'm honestly doing my best, but I can't bear to watch my team play without me."
The athlete puts on an emotionless mask and simply nods, then walks away.
Showing his friend the faintest trace of pained expression or worse, compassion...For Tooru it would be humiliating.
And Hajime would never crush Tooru's worthless pride.
It's saturday and Bokuto is bored.
Akaashi hasn't come by for three days now and the barista shamelessly admits that he misses their small conversations.
The man visibly warmed up to him recently.
Koutarou imagines Keiji sitting on the barstool, bent over his sketchbook, scribbling intricate shapes, adorning them with neat, meticulous penmanship.
Then, after a while he would stretch his slender arms for a moment, take a sip of his horrible coffee and proceed to draw small doodles, usually cats and owls.
Bokuto particularily likes his fingers. Long, slightly bony, yet nimble. Especially when they move rapidly, dragging a proppeling pencil across the paper.
"I guess he's busy chasing inspiration somewhere else."
Suga comes on time today, and he looks cheerful and bubbly as always, as if a huge weight has lifted from his shoulders.
Oikawa comes too, swirling his wooden cane, trying to pose for a gentleman.
But that boyish smile doesn't quite reach his eyes and Koushi desperately wants to change that. Oh, but it's simply his gratitude. Paying a debt from before and such.
Tooru praises his luck over disgustingly sweet cafe au lait with a stroopwafel perched on top of the cup, on the house, as Suga insisted.
-"Hey, Suga-chan." - Oikawa looks up from the slowly metling waffle. - "Is your kid alright now?"
The barista blinks few times, then it dawns on him and he blushes.
-"Y-yeah, everything is under control. He came down with mumps, it's normal for kids his age, apparently. But I was pretty scared." - he muses.
-"Aaah, so that was it, few days ago?" - the 'grand king' takes the melted waffle between his fingers and bites on it. - "Holy shit, the caramel tastes heavenly!" - He winks at his favourite barista (Sorry Bokuto) and purrs -"It's almost as melted as my poor heart at the sound of that laughter of yours."
Koushi turns his head away, clearing his throat.
-"Honey-coated words don't get to me."
-"Sure." - Tooru giggles slightly and sips on his coffee.
-"What was his name anyway?" - Oikawa asks and the barista maneuvers between making coffee and conversing with him.
-"Uh? Oh, you mean, my son. His name is Tobio. Sugawara Tobio." - Sugawara puffs out his chest proudly.
-"I'd like to meet him someday." - Koushi raises his eyebrows.
-"Oikawa-san, I'm not bringing my 5 year old son to my workplace at 5AM."
They chit-chat for a while, but the cafe starts getting more and more crowded with definitely-not-morning-people, and Tooru senses that's his cue to leave.
Around 6AM 'Sugar baby' practicaly bustles about like a worker ant, brewing drinks and packing donuts.
"This place really IS getting popular. One person for a shift may not be enough anymore. We should consider hiring a new employee, perhaps?"
Akaashi finally shows up around midnight on a sunday. Unfortunately, the place is pretty crowded so he chooses the one-man-table in the corner.
He can't focus in his apartment. It's too quiet. But it's not desperate student's lamentations over unfinished papers he is missing.
Unbearably far away from him, Koutarou is smiling towards three attractive women sipping on iced coffee.
'Seriously, go pretend to be fun and outgoing at a club, not a coffee shop, especially you, with that provocative attire. You think I don't see that fake Louis Vuitton clutch in your hand? And it's LAST SEASON'S.'
Keiji pinches the bridge of his nose.
'Fake it till you make it does not apply in your situation.'
'Wait.'- The designer frowns. -'I'm not salty over Bokuto-san's attention, am I? He sure is having fun over there.'
He starts scribbling rapidly.
The brand new addition to his future collection is a fluffy coat with an aggresive addition of liquid latex on the shoulders and neck areas. It resembles a defenseless bird choking on an oil spill.
-"Shittykawa, mondays fucking suck."- Hajime moans weakly.
-"Oh really now? They wouldn't, If you hadn't completely smashed yourself after winning that volleyball match on saturday. And then continued 'celebrating' on sunday. Really, Iwa-chan? You, of all people?" - Tooru's tongue makes a clicking sound.
-"It's all Hanamaki and Matsukawa's fault, okay?" - he exclaims louder than he planned to and flinches at the sound of his own voice, pressing a wet cloth over his forehead.
-"And don't pretend to be the responsible one. It's making me sick."
Tooru perks his lenses up with a middle finger and Hajime catches the action.
-"Bastard."
He regrets his words instantly as Oikawa whistles into his ear.
-"Anyway..." - Tooru makes himself comfortable on Iwa's couch - "About that cutie from before. I thought he was bluffing to put me off or something when I started coming to the cafe, but like, he showed me his kid's photo on the phone and shit. So that's probably a no-go, right?" - He asks not his friend, but himself, as his fingers crumple the comforter.
-"Never thought YOU would label somebody as a No-go, you manwhore. But yeah, tearing famillies apart would be low even for you. You grew up, I'm proud." - Hajime actually changes the tone, from smug to genuinely content.
He lays his head on Tooru's lap, carefull not to disturb his knee to much and Oikawa pets his unruly hair. They fall into comfortable silence and it feels like they went back in time to their highschool times.
.
.
.
-"Iwa-chan. You stink of vodka."
Hajime squints his eyes.
-"I'm too tired to shower."
Tooru's eyes soften and he reaches inside his blazer to fish out his phone and make appointments with patients.
-"It's okay, you can stay for a while.
Iwaizumi used to fall asleep easly to Oikawa's mindless whispers and silly stories.
"I wonder what his significant other is like. Probably all sweet and caring, he seems not used to being teased at all." - He whispers this time.
24 years old Fukuoka Minako is a fantastic libero. The fame made her keep her original surname despite being a married woman. She even has her own small fanclub. She is like an angel, protecting the court with imaginary wings, spread wide.
That's why she gets a proposition. A once-in-a-lifetime one. Transfering to a very powerful Brazilian team.
Minako and Koushi married recklessly, at a very young age and Tobio happened unexpectedly, brutally stalling Minako's carrier at the age of 19.
"Kou, Some people crave success, some crave coffee and donuts."
That's exactly what she said, bringing up divorce few days ago.