Second installment, originally the first but I decided to add a bit of story in front. This is told from Takeda's perspective. c:


"... I think I'm in love with Takeda-sensei." He's got a hand in his lap, the other's scratching at his facial hair. I can't see it, but I can hear the scritch scratch from the other side of the door, even through the loud thumping in my ears that matched my quick heartbeat. Asahi Azumane's voice is trembling, and there's hopelessness and dread in his tone, but my feet are planted on the ground, rendering me immovable. It's not like I can barge in at a time like this, even if it is to comfort a student.

After all, it's me he's talking about.

I'm Ittetsu Takeda. I'm twenty-nine years old, I teach Modern Japanese Literature at Karasuno High, and I also advise for the boy's volleyball club. Well, they call it advising, when all I can do is attempt some form of encouragement and guidance when I feel they need it. I'm very fond of those boys-I really am. They work so hard day in and day out, and when they've done so much and exceeded expectations, it's the adult's job to make sure all that hard work doesn't go to waste. That's why I don't mind borderline harassing other coaches for games, raising funds for traveling expenses, and occupying Ukai's store to bug him about coaching. The students are patient with me as well, and they tolerate my rambling.

But for one of them to love me? In a romantic sense? As mortifying a thought as it was, I had to question Azumane's taste. I'm pretty average looking, I've got bad eye sight, and I'm a little more than ten years older than him. We do get along well, we've got some things in common, and we see each other often, but can that really perpetuate what he claims to feel for me?

There's some silence, and I'm already terrified from the aspect of this getting out and me somehow losing my job because of it, but then a clear voice booms from within the classroom. "Just tell him then, why dontcha?" I hear Yuu Nishinoya's voice, Asahi's foil. "He's probably in the staff room right now, we can still catch him if we hurry." The determined boy's footsteps draw closer to the door, until a desk creaks, movement seems to have stopped, and I'm nearly peeing my pants from the fear of being caught.

I can't see it, but Asahi's got a fistful of the back of Nishinoya's shirt, and his eyebrows are furrowed. "No. I don't want to trouble him with a thing like this. It's better if things stay the way they are." I nodded quickly, my body trembling, hoping I have time to escape. I can't make any noise though, or break out into a run. That'd be a dead give away, wouldn't it?

"Well... maybe it wouldn't work out, you being student and teacher and all."

"And you were about to make me go confess to him!" Asahi wailed exasperatedly, and I found myself fighting a smile as I listened to Yuu continue. "But you can't just give up. I'm sure Take-chan digs you too. You guys are always talking about books and poetry and stuff. He's got to have taken notice of you." There was a creak on another desk, like the small boy had plopped right up onto it. I'd never cursed at a student before, but I was internally unloading any restraint when he encouraged Asahi like that, especially when the tall male's voice rang with optimism. "R-Really? Well, it's true that he likes all of my favorite authors... I'm trying to learn all of his favorites too. Every time he loans me a book I get so excited-it's like he's giving me a part of himself." I knew Asahi could be passionate about volleyball and literature alike, but to hear him be passionate about me? It was only natural that my cheeks would heat up, and I'd grip the stack of papers tightly to my chest.

"He's kind to everybody, I know that... it's just... when we're together... I like to think that I'm special in his eyes. Just a little." I looked down at my feet, feeling guilty. Had I given him any reason to harbor this hope? Did I give him extra attention? It didn't seem like I did. Asahi just was one of those few kids with a passion for literature, and naturally I gravitated toward those types. Had I ever noticed any indication that he liked me this much? "I just... wanna lay in bed with him all day and listen to him recite in my ear," the young, bearded male mumbled embarrassedly, before letting out the most sweet, lovelorn sigh.

This was bad. Or maybe it wasn't-he's just a kid, he's obviously confusing his admiration for something else. I still wanted to put a stop to this, somehow. I wasn't going to outright reject him, not when he hadn't even tried to confess. But I'll set up boundaries. I'd be the responsible adult, and not the curiously foolish person that wondered what content I'd be whispering into his ear.

I managed to escape, slowly and quietly as they spoke and topics changed. I half expected Nishinoya to burst into the staff room and tell me that Asahi was waiting for me somewhere, wanting to tell me something. But Nishinoya never came, and after I muddled through work there was volleyball practice to attend to.

I felt guilty for some weird reason. Before Asahi even found the courage to tell me, I already knew, and was unfairly determining how to end it before it began. Poor guy didn't have a chance. It's not his fault, though. And it's not like I particularly dislike Asahi, but quite the contrary. I tried not to look as fazed and worried as I actually felt, tugging on the hem of my green track suit jacket out of idleness, which covered my work shirt and tie, a pair of my usual slacks underneath. It couldn't have been my fashion sense he was after. My eyes trailed after Asahi, trying to figure out what was going in his mind. As broken as he sounded in the classroom I'd tried to pass by earlier, it didn't seem like it was affecting him here, around everyone else. He was just as gentle when it came to interactions, and that quickly broke down once he was in 'ace mode'. He demanded attention when he was seriously immersed in the game. All of the players were profoundly magnetic, happening to feed off of each others resilience.

It was so tense that my body quickly went rigid, and I found myself pretty stiff by the end of practice.

"Takeda-sensei." I wasn't expecting Asahi to speak to me so soon, and I froze like an idiot, gawking stupidly with my hand rubbing into the small of my back to get it relaxed again. "Y-Yes?" I replied, clearing my throat to offer a timid smile. He raised his eyebrows, before continuing in a soft manner that was as usual, unfitting for a boy of his size and appearance. "Could you throw Suga a few practice tosses, please? We'd like to do a little more individual practice." Sometimes I did help out, when both of the managers and the coach were busy with others, and after a quick look around I was nodding my head. "Yes! But you'll have to put up with my horrible excuse for tossing." Asahi smiled just a little, and the silver haired third year interrupted with a laugh, "Not at all, Take-sensei. Thanks for helping us out." I rolled up my sleeves, determined to help them out, and felt myself limbering enough through toss four that the rest weren't all too bad. Sugawara would make up for whatever I erred and toss it a little ways from the net, for Asahi to drive it over and into the ground, with a ferocity rarely seen in seventeen year olds. Sugawara had to keep politely reminding me so that I'd take my eyes off of Asahi, clumsily tossing another ball in the setter's direction.

Besides being his teacher, I wasn't gay. Sure, I hadn't been with a lot of women either, but I'd never felt that way for another man. Was Asahi gay? Did I just happen to be his type? I wrinkled my nose in thought, tossing ball after ball, until a blur resounded on the other side of the net, and Nishinoya's forearms were taking the brunt of Asahi's spike. The ball was perfectly redirected to where Nishinoya's invisible setter would've been waiting, a victorious smile on his lips as he regarded the ace. "Not too shabby~" He chided, Asahi replying with a spiritless smile, ace mode quickly running away what with Nishinoya's playful attitude. I grinned in response, until Yuu's piercing gaze suddenly tore into me, and I was going rigid once more. "Take-chan." I nodded shakily in response as he ducked underneath the net, heading my way. Asahi shifted from the corner of my eye, but Nishinoya was readily demanding my attention. "You have anybody you like?" He asked suddenly, so suddenly that my eyebrows furrowed. "What a question! I don't." It wasn't until I realized that this was for Asahi's sake that I imagined what hope I might've instilled in Asahi.

"What's your type?" Nishinoya was dead serious, and I couldn't help the nervous titter that I released. "Type? Uhh, type. I like women." Nishinoya gave me a ridiculous look, like he'd wanted a different answer. "I mean, what type of girls are you into?" He pressed, putting me in an uncomfortable position. I felt like Sugawara would've intervened, if it wasn't for the fierce glare he received from Nishinoya when he moved an inch. Might as well answer honestly, right? It's girls we're talking about. "W-Well... I like them sweet, and gentle. But also passionate, when it comes to things they enjoy. I l-like long hair. And girls that are shorter than me. And if they could cook, that'd be wonderful." God, why wasn't I married yet? This sounded awesome. Nishinoya was grinning at me, his gaze switching meaningfully to Asahi, who seemed to be scrutinizing our difference in height.

The smaller boy moseyed right up to Asahi, elbowing him in the side. "Better work on that whole shorter thing." He murmured, and I quickly turned away before I could see Asahi frantically countering with a, "Jeez, Noya."

I helped a little with clean up, until the boys pressed that they could take care of it themselves. I let them to it, feeling a little spent after all the time worrying about Asahi and I. Other than Nishinoya freaking me the Hell out, Asahi hadn't tried to make a move. It was a little unnerving how normal things seemed to be, day in and day out since I'd heard his confession outside of the classroom. Other than Nishinoya bugging me with weird questions once in awhile, interactions between Asahi and I were just about normal, except for how jumpy and nervously I acted. Did Asahi really love me? Why wasn't he doing anything about it? How could he be so calm around me? Outside of the court, Asahi didn't seem to be the type to take the initiative, so after a few moments of mindlessly mulling over it, I gave up and relaxed throughout the rest of the day. Asahi understood our positions, and that nothing would come out of it. It was regrettable that his feelings were wasted on me but he'd realize the error of his misplaced crush and would get over me. This was a good thing.

"You're a liar."

It's a tone that's familiarly gruff, and deep, enough to send chills through me. The voice struck my core, inwardly forcing me to peer up into dark brown eyes, into the face of a man who challenged my reasoning. I wasn't going to give a rebuttal, I couldn't, my naked torso suddenly swept close by warm, big hands that were calloused and rough against my smooth skin. He was naked too and pressing up close, guiding me into him. There wasn't any urge to resist, my mind didn't fight it, my own hands accepting him and sliding up his neck, feeling out the particularly strong jawline with my thumbs, feeling his beard dissipate the further up I caressed, before we were kissing and I was submitting everything to him. Pride, shame, passion, hope. Those strong hands were made for spiking the ball, weren't made to touch a man like this, but I worshiped them for every second they traced my skin, every time they pinned me down and grabbed me. It was probably the single most erotic dream of my life, being rutted into the bed by a male twelve years my junior, taken over and over again with his name escaping my lips an innumerable amount of times.

"A... zumann... haahhzumane... hhrnrrckk... 've... never done tha-... ohhh." It's not my low sleepy moans that wake me, but the blaring phone alarm that I'd fixed to wake me up early for school. I quickly became aware of myself and reached over to dismiss the alarm, groaning tiredly into my palm. The dream was still fresh on my mind, and a warm ache was throbbing between my thighs. I was how old? A wet dream? About possibly the most inappropriate person?

It wasn't enough to disregard his feelings. Now I had to guard against this dangerous attraction that I was gearing towards, all because of the teenager who possessed a body way too killer and masculine for his age.

It'd been awhile since I had to take a cold shower in the morning, and pray profusely to whatever god was in charge of slaying teachers that had wet dreams about their students.

"I finished the book, Sensei." That voice definitely belonged to a man. Not the kindly smiling owner of a messy, brunette bun, with a light tan sweater that didn't hide his powerful physique in the slightest. It was the free period for lunch, and I was sitting at my desk in the lunch room, meat bun wrapped in a napkin held by the hand that hadn't been holding a pen for grading. My face was pale, as if I'd seen a ghost, blanking stupidly before noticing the book he was handing over to me. I shook my head to clear my mind, dropping the pen to accept the book, "O-Oh! Right. Sorry, Azumane, I've been out of sorts lately." Out of sorts and into your pants. Jesus Christ Ittetsu, this wasn't the time to be joking around-

"Really?" His hand dropped once the book was in my possession, a hint of concern notching his eyebrows up. "I hope it's not too serious... but if you need someone to talk to, I don't mind lending you an ear." He so easily leaned a palm on my desk, his body language open and accepting, and frighteningly casual. I briefly thought how nice it was to be loved by someone like him.

I smiled at him, shaking my head slowly. "It's nothing serious. You finished it quickly, huh? Did you enjoy it?" I dragged out a bite of my lunch as his lips bore a gentle sigh, and his thick digits curled on the desk. "It was great. I forgot I was actually reading a book, felt more like I'd stepped into a whole other world. The author's pretty good at making that happen." He understood me perfectly. The book I'd loaned him contained a perfect example of total immersion, where the plot was completely understood and was easily able to adapt to the mind of any reader. The author had a knack for that, and the next book of his I'd planned on loaning was akin to that.

"What do you have for me next?" It was almost like a cheeky sounding challenge coming out of that ordinarily sweet mouth, and I realized then that I'd let Asahi get too familiar. He was in the staff room, a place where students rarely came, and at that it was only to talk serious with teachers about school. But I'd let this turn into a meeting place of our own, where we'd discuss romantic literature in the simplest of forms. And not so much romantic in the sense of love and courting, though at times there was some of that, rather focusing on the Romantic era and the value in aestheticism and emotion. I could talk about it all day, and I knew Asahi would listen and hang on every word.

I gently set the book down, before looking back at him. "Honestly, I can't think of another book at the moment... It seems you've exhausted all my recommendations." It was a lie, there were about ten more books I'd been dying to show him. He looked disappointed, and I turned my eyes back toward the stack of papers.

"... I should let you get back to that. Thanks for the book." He'd read the dismissive attitude, and enough guilt flooding through me had my voice squeaking out a weak, "Wait."

He'd stood up straight, eyes locked onto my face with an indiscernible amount of muffled emotion. What was behind those dark eyes? Didn't need to ask, I already knew what was going on.

"The book I loaned you... there was a film adapted from it, in 1953. I'm not sure if you're very partial to older films, but I have a copy... if you'd like to come over and watch it."

Asahi looked for a moment like he was trying to vehemently resist. But there was no way he could. "Yeah, I would."


There's so much I want to do. I want to make this cute. I want to make it realistic. I want to make it angsty. I want to keep them in character as much as possible, but by putting them in these situations I want them to have flaws they didn't realize they had.

I'm taking this way too goddamn seriously. Hope you guys are enjoying it so far!