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Chapter Text

Kuroo Testurō followed his dad’s request to make his bed despite not wanting to—which is why he thought it might be some sort of weird sign that he shouldn’t do any chores when his arm broke in the middle of the chore. His dad responded to his screams of pain and panic and quickly took him to the hospital. Yūichi originally thought Tetsurō had jumped off the bed and blamed himself for missing the tell-tale sounds of misbehavior. However, the doctor ruled it as a soulmate break.

That was how Kuroo learned about his soulmate for the first time. The doctor did a few tests while looking at the break and confirmed that Kuroo would be an alpha when he got older. Somewhere in the world, an omega who was meant to be his mate broke their arm and his. That was how it worked. Kuroo didn’t care much for the arrangement. He spent the rest of the evening pinching his own arm in hopes his soulmate could feel it on the other side and know not to injure themselves again.

A year later, in Miyagi, Tsukishima Kei was in the middle of the rest period for volleyball practice when his left leg painfully snapped in two. Upon his own visit to the doctor, he decided the broken leg must be in retaliation for the broken arm (because the painful injuries his soulmate accrued over the last year escalated dramatically). Tsukishima decided to return the favor to his soulmate by pinching his arm until it was practically a different color.

Neither of them stopped to consider that both injuries might’ve been a well-meaning accident. Afterall, Tsukishima had protected Yamaguchi Tadashi (his best friend) from several middle school bullies who didn’t think much of omegas and decided to take it out on elementary school students who hardly knew more than their own orientation. And, while Kuroo was loathe to retell the story of his broken leg (although, his older sister made sure to spread the story as far and wide as she could), he’d certainly injured himself for a noble cause. A cat got stuck in a tree and wouldn’t come down. Kozume Kenma (Kuroo’s best friend) had been quite distraught about it, even though it wasn’t his cat, and Tetsurō tried to do the noble thing by climbing the tree to rescue it. He just happened to also fall out of the same tree.

Over the years, the various injuries they both sustained never stopped entirely (though Tsukishima really tried his best to not get injured because his soulmate seemed insistent on cataloging every injury in a medical manual). No, they swung between severity with nothing much worse than a pulled muscle or deep bruising. They never broke another bone again.

Chapter Text

“My mom is relocating to Tokyo.” Tsukishima sat on one of the swings in the park near his house. The fading sunlight glistened off his blond hair and made him look paler. He never held color well and wore a lot of sunblock when outside.

Yamaguchi held both arms out to his side as he balanced on the support beam between the metal holding the structure at either side. “What?”

“My mom’s job is no longer allowing remote work, so she has to relocate to Tokyo in order to keep her job. There’s not a lot of opportunities out here in her field apparently. She tried searching because she didn’t want Akiteru-nii or I to grow up in the city. I suppose nii-san made it out unscathed, but he’s transferring to a Tokyo University next semester. So, I get to attend high school in Tokyo.” Tsukishima grabbed the chains of the swing and extended into a reclined position with no other support on the ground. He watched the pink and orange hues of the sunset play across the lazy clouds. If he let go, he knew for just a moment it would feel like he was freefalling through the sky. Except, the playground had woodchips in place of gravel, and he didn’t want to feel the splinters digging into the sensitive skin around his spine. As much as his soulmate deserved it for the pain they just shot through his elbow.

“What about Karasuno?”

It was always their plan to go to high school together—Akiteru’s alma mater. Tsukishima was supposed to join the volleyball team and stay on first string. He was supposed to be better than his brother—he wouldn’t lie about his position on the team to save face. His knuckles turned white around the chains, and he slowly pulled himself into a sitting position again. “Karasuno is here. My mom already sent my enrollment papers to a school called Nekoma. Once we graduate from middle school, we’ll practically move overnight. It’ll be that weekend. Nothing is even going to be unpacked by the time I start school again on Monday.”

“I can’t believe this.” Yamaguchi crouched on the beam to slide off.

Tsukishima lifted his feet off the ground and started to swing in lieu of responding.

“What am I going to do if there isn’t another omega on the volleyball team?”

“You’ll be fine,” Kei said. Another sharp pain ricocheted through his elbow, and he couldn’t hold back the sharp cry of, “Ow.”

“Your soulmate again?”

“If I have a bruise on my elbow tomorrow, you’ll know why.” He scowled.

“I wonder what they do to get so banged up.” Yamaguchi took a seat on the swing next to him. “I sometimes get bruises on my knees, but I can’t tell if they’re from my soulmate or myself. The most pain comes from my left hand and shoulder.”

“You’re lucky your soulmate is more careful with their body.” Tsukishima frowned. “I always feel like I’ve been in a fight. I don’t know whether my soulmate is clumsy or completely ignorant of the injuries I have because of them. Are they ignoring that I exist?”

“They could probably ignore you exist, but I’m sure they’re aware on some level that you are out there experiencing all the pain they do. That broken arm you had was nasty.” Yamaguchi reached over to push Kei as he passed by on a down swing. He twisted through the air.

“You’ll tell me when you meet your soulmate, right?” He reached out a leg to drag it across the ground and slow the rocky pattern. “I have to tell him how much trouble you are—causing me to break bones and whatnot.”

“Shut up, you asshole,” Tadashi laughed brightly and started swinging.

“Don’t worry, I’ll tell you when I meet mine too, so you can explain to them why I broke my arm.”

“I have plenty of time to come up with a perfect lie to tell them. Make you sound like a super wimp.” He extended a leg to the side to nudge Tsukishima with his foot. “I’m going to miss you. Tokyo is a huge city—it feels like you’re going to get lost in the swell of people.”

“That’s an all too true reality.”

Chapter Text

“Your soulmate definitely hates you,” Yaku Morisuke criticized Kuroo when he ran into the corner of the hallway on their way out to the clubroom.

“I’m not going to let a soulmate keep me from bringing Nekoma to nationals.” He growled lowly.

“What does walking into a corner have to do with nationals?” Kai Nobuyuki asked.

“I thought Yaku was referring to my bruised knees from yesterday.”

“See, I can understand some natural injuries from playing sports—although, you could really try to have less of those—but avoidable things like walking into the wall? Getting punched by Yamamoto that one time? Yeah, your soulmate hates you for giving them injuries all the time.”

Kuroo rolled his eyes. “I know it hurts—I feel their pain, too. I’m not sure about what you qualify as avoidable. People walk into things like walls all the time. As for practice, I consider our team more important than my soulmate. For now, anyway. Who knows where they are in the world? They could speak a different language for all I know.”

“Ah, so they may be cussing you out in a different language.” Yaku smirked, but it quickly faded into a frown. He pressed a hand to his forehead and grimaced.

“You, okay?” Kai asked.

“I think whoever my soulmate is, they’re tall. That pisses me off.”

“They hit their head on something?”

“All the time. I went home with a headache from school two days ago and nearly ended up in the hospital for a mild concussion after they walked into three things that same afternoon.” He pushed his hair back.

Kuroo opened the door to the clubroom. “Ah, exactly the mate you always wanted.” He grinned. “An idiot.”

“I’d take having my head hurt a few times over being covered from head to toe in bruises.” Yaku pulled off his tie and started to unbutton his uniform shirt.

“Are you sure about that?” Kuroo pushed as he put his bag away on the shelf. “Your mate might just crack their head open one day, and you could bleed out on a sidewalk. No one would ever know.”

“Why are you so morbid?”

“It’s in my nature.”

“Ah, they’re fighting again.” Kenma said as he joined them in the clubroom.

“When are they not?” Kai sighed. “I thought this would’ve calmed down a bit with Kuroo taking over as team captain.”

“Kuroo will never grow out of annoying the shit out of me.” Yaku folded his shirt and put it away before pulling his practice shirt over his head. He reached for his belt next.

“We have a couple of months until the new first-years show up. I can grow up then.” Tetsurō shrugged.

“Why do I doubt this?” Kai stood in his underwear looking for his practice uniform.

“Because we’re too aware of his true nature.” Kenma reached for his volleyball shoes.

A sudden pain shot through Kuroo’s arm from the elbow, and he hissed involuntarily.

“Look at that, his soulmate is paying him back.” Kenma grinned.

“Deserves it.” Yaku tied the laces on his shoes. “There's no way your soulmate doesn't hate you without ever meeting you.”

“Stop telling me to not get injured! It's going to happen when you play sports,” Kuroo said. “And if you're telling me to stop playing sports—”

“We're not telling you to stop playing sports.” Kenma rolled his eyes. “They're telling you to be a little more cautious and considerate of the person you're fated for.”

“You're all being overdramatic about some simple injuries.” Kuroo pulled his shirt over his head, and his elbow slammed painfully into the shelving unit. The others stared at him with disappointment. He grimaced. “Okay, yeah. Maybe I do need to be a little more careful.”

Tsukishima loaded the last box into the moving van, and his brother pulled the door closed and locked it. It was early morning; they'd arrive in Tokyo just after lunch. His mother planned to pick up some fast food which they'd eat on the floor of their new house before unpacking their things. They'd be doing it by themselves as they didn't have the extra money to pay for help.

“I don't want you to leave!” Yamaguchi's eyes filled with tears.

Tsukishima grabbed Tadashi's arm. “We'll still be in contact every day.”

“It's just not the same.” Yamaguchi frowned. “We won't have classes together for me to pass you notes you ignore. We won't go to practice in the same gym and annoy each other over volleyball.”

Tsukishima tried to give him a comforting smile. “You've never annoyed me over volleyball.” He kicked the toe of his shoe against the pavement. “Our friendship isn't going to change because of a couple hundred miles even if all those little things do.”

Yamaguchi rushed forward in a surprise hug. Tsukishima wasn't the type of omega to hug and cuddle, and his best friend normally respected his choice. “Once you join the volleyball club at your new high school, you'll have to tell me all about it.”

Despite his hesitations, Tsukishima returned the hug. “Of course—do you think I'm an idiot? You'll know my team better than your own.” He pulled Yamaguchi into a platonic scenting. “I'll text you when we arrive in Tokyo.”

Kei's mother, Fumiko, called for him from the front of the moving van, and the omegas pulled away from each other.

“Bye, Tsukki.”

Chapter Text

Tsukishima spent a good part of the drive to Tokyo reading the informational booklet about Nekoma high and the school rules. The school advertised its use of scent inhibitors in the building to help the students focus on their studies instead of secondary genders. It didn't say anything about the neutralizer use in the gymnasiums for extracurricular sports, and Tsukishima wondered if he would know the orientations of his team members.

“Kei-chan, your brother and I will work on unpacking. Will you go grab us something to eat?” Fumiko held her wallet out to her son.

“Does it matter what I get?” Tsukishima asked.

“A burger place would be good,” Akiteru said. “If you want that.”

Kei nodded (he really didn't care). He took his mother's wallet and wandered into the city portion of Tokyo. On one of the street corners, he spotted a fast-food restaurant named Maji Burger and decided it would work. He arrived at the door at the same time as a fierce looking alpha a couple inches taller than him with red and black hair. The alpha smelled of lemon grass, and he held the door open for Tsukishima. He uttered a swift thank you and ducked into the store.

Kei used his phone to capture an image of the menu to send to his mother and brother while the alpha went to the counter and ordered a mountain of burgers. Tsukishima stared at him tearing into the pile while he waited for his family's orders. That alpha was certainly someone special. He hoped his soulmate wasn't the same kind of person.

His brother texted back with their orders, so he checked the text. Just then, a smaller male with blue hair brushed past him smelling of vanilla, but when he went to take a closer look in response to the apology, the person had vanished. Chocking it up to seeing things, Tsukishima took the order to the front register and asked for it to-go. On his way out the door, he nearly bumped into an alpha with spiky white and gray hair.

“Sorry,” Kei said.

“Don't apologize!” The teenager gave him a wide grin.

Tsukishima quickly vacated the street but not before hearing the alpha (who smelled like driftwood) shout, “Akaashi! Kuroo!” People in Tokyo were a little friendlier than he expected.

“Naoi-sensei, you have someone looking for you!” One of the other teachers called across the staff room.

It was the first day of school, and he had one first year already approach him requesting an application for the volleyball club. Good news for the club and its popularity. They could have full second-string tournaments that year. Naoi turned away from Kuroo, the new captain, and spotted the nervous student still standing in the doorway.

“Come on over!” Naoi waved to the blond, and the teenager quickly crossed the room to his desk. “What can I help you with?”

“I wanted to get an application for the volleyball team.” He tugged nervously at his fingers.

Kuroo perked up a little at the mention of volleyball, and Naoi could see him assessing the newbie. If he didn't slouch, he probably had a centimeter on Kuroo in height.

Naoi grinned. “Of course. I have the application right here.” He produced a sheet of paper from the organizer on his desk. He pointed to the third year. “This is Kuroo Testurō. He's the captain of the team.”

“Hajimemashite. Yoroshiku onegaishimasu.” Tsukishima bowed politely. His nose wiggled momentarily trying to catch a hint of any scents before he remembered the neutralizers from the pamphlet.

“It'll be good to have someone with your height on the team.” Kuroo grinned. “Although, your arms look a little frail to really receive anything. We'll have to build that up so you can make it to first string.”

“I am still growing,” Kei grumbled. He quickly filled out the paperwork with a pen from his school bag.

“I'm sure you are,” Kuroo laughed. “Naoi-sensei, I'll stop by tomorrow. Let me know if anything changes.”

“Yes, yes. I'm working to get this resolved quickly. It would be nice to greet the first years joining the team sometime next week. We're probably looking at two weeks out right now.”

“No worries. I'm practicing with my friends from Fukurōdani while we wait for practice to start up again.” He paused on his way to the door. “Not sure I'll be able to drag Kenma to extra practice.”

Naoi grinned. “Wouldn't expect anything different. I'm sure he'll still be in shape for the start of the season. He's a good kid.” He took the paper from Tsukishima. “Remember to do your homework!” he called after him.

“I would never, sensei!”

Naoi glanced over the information on the application taking note of his secondary gender and current heat cycle. His next heat wouldn't be until June during the preliminary times. He glanced at the omega and noticed the slight embarrassment around the timing of his cycle despite the fact no one could help it. “Your name is Tsukishima Hotaru?”

“It's Kei.” He frowned.

Naoi noted Tsukishima's discomfort over his name. It most likely made his own alignment more difficult. He quickly scribbled a note onto the form. “As you heard, we're hoping to do introductions next week, but we may have to postpone.”

“No problem.” Tsukishima adjusted the strap of the bag on his shoulder.

“I look forward to getting to know you better. I'll reach out once we know the date for first practice.” Naoi stood and bowed. “Thank you for stopping by.”

The omega bowed as well before hurrying from the staff room.

Chapter Text

Tsukishima's mother promised she would pick him up from school to celebrate his first day after she got off work, except her shift ran later and later into the evening. They spent an increasing amount of time transferring her online tasks to in-office work.

I can take the train home. It isn’t a big deal.

No, I said I would pick you up and that’s what I’m going to do.

I don’t want to trouble you, Mom.

You can pick me up tomorrow when your work isn’t so hectic.

But this is your first day at a new school!

It’s a completely different atmosphere.

I think I should be able to leave in about fifteen minutes.

Kei sighed and leaned back on the small patch of grass under the shade of a barely pink cherry blossom tree. He at least found a semi-okay spot to relax on school grounds until his mother finally made it to the high school. He watched the clouds float past and nearly drifted to sleep before voices interrupted.

“Okay, but like, what if they made a video game about school? Would you play it?” The teen's loud voice drifted across the open courtyard.

“What part of school?” someone else asked.

“Volleyball!” the first cheered.

“Maybe.”

“How about one where you attend class and learn stuff?” Kei knew that voice—or at least, it was familiar. He'd heard it somewhere.

“No, that's just school.”

“Damn, I'd play that game.”

Tsukishima turned his head to watch the group walk past. He recognized Kuroo from the teacher's lounge. He had an entourage of three other boys with him. Two of them had blond dyed hair. The shorter of the two had brown roots growing out, but he didn't seem concerned about touching up the roots. The taller had a mohawk. The last in the group was the shortest with dirty-blond hair paler in shade than Kei's natural blond. Tsukishima's nose twitched as he tried to pick up their scents, but they were too far away. If he had to take a guess, he'd bet good money on the two taller teens being alphas. Tsukishima was the strange one being so tall for his secondary gender. After all, he was pretty sure he was taller than the Alpha captain.

“Do you guys smell strawberries?” Kuroo asked.

Tsukishima panicked. That was his scent. It must be too strong. It was calling to the group, begging for him to be noticed—the last thing he wanted.

“Now that you mention it,” the smallest omega lifted his nose higher to get a better sniff. He turned and spotted Tsukishima reclining under the tree.

Kei's phone buzzed, and he fumbled it in his hurry to check the device.

I'm here!

Tsukishima jumped to his feet and took off for the front gate. He sensed the eyes of the four following him across the grounds. He knew there was no way Kuroo didn't recognize him from the staff room. He also knew his scent. They had smelled him. He had no doubt they would recognize him as an omega. He'd be the freak, again.

Kei rounded the corner of the fence. His mom stood outside her car waiting on the side of the road. She eagerly waved him forward, and he dodged her hug to slide into the front seat.

“How was your first day at school?”

“Kind of boring.”

“I'm sure it'll be more fun once you're able to practice volleyball again!” she said. “Have you met anyone you can be friends with yet?”

Tsukishima held up his pointer fingers. “First day of school. Friends.” He made them miss meeting till his arms made an X.

“Oh hush.” She batted his hands down. “You'll have friends soon enough. Maybe we can arrange for a day on one of your school breaks to visit Yamaguchi.”

“You don't have to.” Tsukishima turned pink. He didn't like admitting how much he cared for his best friend. He never got along with other omegas very well, but Tadashi was different. He was also on the taller side.

“Of course, I don't have to! I want to, Kei. There is a difference,” she paused, “We do need to pick up your brother, too—he just finished his classes for the day.”

Chapter Text

The next time Kuroo met the new omega, he didn't know his name, was as he walked home from school. They'd been in classes for a week with no sign of the basketball team relinquishing the gym. They had a rather unfortunate waterline break in their gym, and the school let them work out a schedule with the volleyball team to share. However, it quickly turned into them hogging the gym and refusing to listen to reason. Kuroo noticed the omega leaving late one day (Kuroo usually stayed late to help with volleyball things), so he hurried his tasks to catch up. He hoped to learn a little more about one of the team's newest recruits.

The omega held a phone to his ear and spoke lowly into the receiver, so Kuroo didn't dare interrupt. That didn't mean he wouldn't eavesdrop even if he knew it was wrong. They were walking to same train station, after all. It was really the blond's fault for having a private conversation in a public space.

“My mom offered to pay for a ticket, so I can visit you. I told her she didn't have to, but she was insisting that we be together again. It will most likely be over the summer sometime. A lot of it depends on the volleyball schedule. You know we haven't started practicing yet. I know nothing about my team.”

A laugh issued from the phone, but the voice that followed spoke too quietly for Kuroo to make out any words. He thought it had a male tone.

“Shut up,” the omega said with a faint smile on his lips. “I'm on my way home right now.”

Quiet.

“School's fine, I suppose. You said something about volleyball already starting there? What's your team like?” 

“The captain had to kick two new recruits out of the gym after they knocked off the vice principal's toupee!”

The blond pulled the phone away from his ear, the yell as clear as day, and frowned. “Yamaguchi, don't yell in my ear.”

“Gomen, Tsukki. I think the club is going to be a bit of a wild mess if I'm honest,” Yamaguchi said.

“Good luck.” Tsukki put the phone back where it belonged. “I would say I'm glad I don't have to deal with it, but I'm not sure what anyone on my team will be like yet. I might end up ready to kill someone on the first day.”

Laughter again.

“I'm almost to the train station, so I need to go.”

Unintelligible static.

“Let me know if you need help with your homework, and we can have a study session this week. Talk to you later.” Tsukki tucked the phone into his pocket.

Kuroo rubbed his chin in thought. He wondered what the omega would think of their team once practices picked up. Granted, he liked just about everyone on first string. Some of the second-string members were clearly there for club credit—Kenma would be, too, if Kuroo didn't push him. He'd hate to kick anyone out of the gym on the first day of practice. Of course, that would be up to Nekomata-sensei and not him. Whatever team Yamaguchi was on, they might not have a proper coach.

Chapter Text

“Welcome to Nekoma's volleyball team. We have first and second-string spots available,” Nekomata-sensei greeted the first years with a familiar wide grin. “You'll have to work hard to prove you're worth one of the open first-string spots today. Of course, second-string isn't a bad place to be. We often promote when we see how committed you are to the team—especially if you work hard without slacking off.”

Tsukishima had the urge to cover his nose. Excitement bled through each of the first years and caused their pheromones to rise in an unpleasant cacophony of scents. He hoped practice wouldn't imitate the first day; he wished the gym had the same scent neutralizers as the rest of the school. He blamed that desire on an incredibly overpowering scent of licorice which made his stomach turn. When he first entered the gym, he'd caught the scent of a very lovely juniper around the gym. It was completely washed away by whichever first year thought it was a good idea to just let himself go. At the very least, he needed to adjust soon, or he would vomit in the middle of try-outs for first-string.

One of the omegas from the group on the first day of school, the one with half-blond hair, tugged on Kuroo's sleeve and leaned up to whisper something in his ear. The captain’s nose crinkled, and he nodded. He shuffled over to Naoi and relayed a message. Naoi nodded and stepped closer to Nekomata, who continued speaking.

“It looks like we have enough of you to play a full team. Although, you may be playing a position you’re unfamiliar with.” Nekomata grinned. “We’ll have you play against our regulars, of course—then we can judge who can withstand the best in our school.”

Naoi whispered to the coach.

“Oh dear, already?” The coach sighed and frowned at the newbies. “I know I’m getting on and mated, so I can’t smell you all, but that doesn’t mean your team can’t. You may be young, but you’re at an age where you should be able to control your scents by now. Please don’t use them in the gym to suppress your teammates—or even by accident when you get excited. Apparently, some of your pheromones are already bothering your teammates.”

Some of the players had the decency to look sheepish, and the horrid mixture of smells ebbed. Except for the pesky licorice one. Even the smallest player on the team, dressed as the libero, adopted an annoyed expression at its persistence.

“Alright, I’m going to call you by name and give you a position to play for the exhibition match. To my regulars, remember your positions are also at stake in favor of the newbies if they can hold their own. I’ll call you one by one and give you a position. Step forward when you hear your name.”

The first years shuffled in anticipation. The licorice grew stronger again. Tsukishima’s stomach did an uncomfortable turn. He could taste bile in his throat. Reacting to the scent would out him the quickest as an omega. He’d flown under the radar among the teammates because the alphas smelled too strong.

“Inuoka Sō, wing spiker. Iwasaki Aki, wing spiker. Shibayama Yūki, libero. Tsukishima Hotaru, middle blocker.”

Tsukishima fought back the grimace at the mispronunciation of his name. He hated new schools and new introductions for that very reason.

“Ah, coach, I made a note on the side. Tsukishima-kun’s name is Kei, not Hotaru.” Naoi interrupted the reading to point to the note.

“My apologies, Tsukishima-kun. I saw the note, but it didn’t register.” Nekomata gave him a warm smile.

“It’s fine—happens all the time,” Kei mumbled just barely audible. He resisted the urge to tug at his own fingers. He didn’t need to add his nervous tick to everything else going wrong. Especially with the teammates passing him pitying looks for having his first name written with a Kanji which could be so easily confused with a girl’s name. He hated others looking down on him. He hated his first name. He hated how that name only made his omeganess more obvious when he tried to fight it back.

“Teshiro Tamahiko, setter. Mochizuki Michiro, wing spiker. Haiba Lev, middle blocker.”

The smirk on the setter’s face pushed Tsukishima’s nerves close to breaking. If he didn’t sync well with the setter, his skills would be looked over by the coaches for first-string. The last player announced, Haiba, jumped up and down in excitement and the licorice smell increased ten-fold.

Kuroo scowled.

Kei couldn’t hold back his reaction any longer. It smelled awful. A complete turn off. His hand jumped to cover his nose and mouth in an attempt to filter the air. He saw the bottle blond omega copy his movement. Several of Tsukishima’s new teammates watched him with wide eyes and open mouths. They hadn’t expected the tall kid to be an omega—just as he expected.

Kuroo crossed his arms and clicked his tongue loudly. It called everyone in the room to attention. “Oi, Haiba,” he growled. “Being able to control your pheromones, so they don’t affect others during play is part of your assessment. You are already failing. Don’t make us remind you again.”

“Ah, sorry.” Lev pulled off embarrassed well, but Kei had the nagging feeling he didn’t learn his lesson. At the very least, Haiba might end up on second string just for his control issues. Tsukishima just had to make sure he didn’t end up there with him.

“This is Kuroo Tetsurō, Nekoma’s captain.” Nekomata gestured to him politely.

“Pleasure to meet you all.” He bowed.

“Are captains always alphas?” Lev bubbled at the seams and bounced on the balls of his feet. “I wanna be captain next.”

“Just because you’re an alpha doesn’t make you a candidate for captaincy,” Nekomata said with a tight smile. Tsukishima guessed he’d be lucky to ever be considered if he didn’t get his pheromones under control. “Let’s get to the match. Ishida, will you keep score?”

“Yes, coach!” The teen jogged over to the board and waited to flip the score.

The first years coordinated how their rotation would work and put Tsukishima on the front line. He turned to the setter. “Don’t set the ball too high if you plan to send it to me.”

The captain grinned at him from the other side of the net as he took his position to serve next. “Can’t jump?” he ribbed.

Kei kept his neutral bored expression intact. “I don’t like doing unnecessary things.”

By the grin the captain gave him, Kei knew the alpha had experience working with types like him. He shifted uncomfortably.

“Kuro, you could at least wait a few rallies before you start antagonizing the opponents,” the setter chastised. Kuroo immediately backed off and replied with something snarky which Tsukishima couldn’t quite catch.

Ah, that’s how it is, he thought.

The game progressed with a significant lead to the seasoned team members. Teshiro, feeling desperate, set the ball too high. Tsukishima knew he would be the only one able to pick it up with Lev off the court. Kei took a grand running start and launched himself into the air above Kuroo’s well-timed block and slammed the ball home. His teammates cheered and congratulated him with impressed slaps on the back. Their side prepared for the next rally.

“I thought you didn’t like jumping,” Kuroo said.

“I don’t like unnecessary things. That wasn’t unnecessary.” He turned his back on Kuroo to watch the serve go up.

The alpha laughed, but his eyes narrowed in on the ball arcing through the air. He made sure to pay the favor back threefold.

At the end of the match, the coach let them know that positions for first and second string would be given out the next day. Tsukishima tried to convince himself he didn’t care, but he did—he wanted to prove he could play first string. He wouldn’t be like his brother.

Chapter Text

The fierce licorice smell was back turning Tsukishima’s stomach again. They were waiting for the coach to arrive to start practice, and Lev was bouncing off the walls bragging about highlights he remembered from the game yesterday that Tsukishima didn’t recall happening.

Kuroo had already yelled at him once for the oppressive licorice smell that the omega next to him complained about again. It was even starting to agitate the other alphas and push them further over the edge. Tsukishima had his shirt up over his nose and breathed shallowly to try and lessen the impact. The smallest on the team, the one he saw with Kuroo the first day of school, looked uncomfortable, but Tsukishima didn’t think it was because he couldn’t handle the smell. He had a feeling it was the opposite, and he was frustrated that he didn’t hate it.

Tsukishima could feel it clogging his lungs. Even if they were miraculously separated between first and second string, he thought the taste of licorice might not leave him for the next month. He never wanted to eat the candy again. Kei coughed and felt his stomach turn painfully to the point he considered moving toward the trashcan in the club closet. He could feel his head getting lighter, and he wanted to leave. Screw volleyball. He’d find another sport to play.

“Haiba!” The small omega barked. “If you don’t get that scent under control and coach somehow let you join first string, I’m going to personally ensure that he changes his mind and demotes you immediately.”

“Eh?” Lev straightened to his full height. “Even if I’m strong enough to be on first string?”

“Anyone who is actually,” he bit out the word, “strong enough to be on first string would know how to control themselves. Reign it in before the coach kicks you from the team altogether. You’re clogging up the air, and it’s disgusting.”

“But if I’m good, then it shouldn’t really matter. Besides, why would the coach listen to you?”

Tsukishima shifted to lean against the wall as the omega growled and bore down on the alpha yelling and swinging his arms to the bemusement of a few of them. Kei couldn’t take much more and closed his eyes. He swore he could feel his teammates staring at him, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. He just wanted the smell to go away.

“Alright, let’s announce who is going to second string,” Naoi said as he and Nekomata entered the gym. He pointed to Tsukishima who still had his eyes closed and shirt over his nose, but Kuroo pointed subtly to Lev and shook his head. Naoi frowned but didn’t bother to chastise the omega who was clearly overwhelmed. Kenma had latched onto Kuroo’s sleeve to keep himself upright, but he was slowly sinking to the ground as well.

Naoi read off the names going to second string and Tsukishima listened with ferocity for his own name to be mentioned, but by some miracle the last name on the list was Haiba Lev. The coach immediately dismissed the second string to the second gym with an assistant coach. Lev tried to put up a fight, but they forced him out of the door with the others. Licorice still clung to the air, but it wasn’t as oppressive when it wasn’t pumped out every second. One of the first-string members ran to open a window, and Tsukishima couldn’t keep his legs from giving out any longer and slid to the floor against the wall.

“Tsukishima, are you okay?” Yaku was over him in an instant pressing his hand to his forehead. The sweet smell of mango washed over him, and he took comfort in it.

“Sorry,” he whispered.

“Don’t apologize.” Yaku gently pressed a wet towel against him. “It’s not your fault. It’s that idiot who doesn’t consider anyone else. Even the alphas were on edge with his smell, it just doesn’t affect them the same way. Kenma’s about ready to pass out, too.” He pursed his lips. “Congrats on making first string, by the way.”

“Thanks,” Tsukishima managed to open his eyes and lower the shirt from his nose. He could see Kuroo sitting on the floor petting Kenma’s head as he also panted. Something twinged in Tsukishima’s stomach, and he threw out his hand. “I need to vomit.”

“Kai!” Yaku called over his shoulder. “Get the trash can.”

The vice-captain ran off without question and returned a moment later handing over a small can for him to spit up into.

“I take it you like the smell of licorice,” Kei commented. A light flush pressed itself against Yaku’s cheeks.

“I suppose. It’s oppressive, but I’m not as affected.” He pursed his lips. “I’m already aware of what that probably means, and I hate it. Fate is a fickle bitch.” He turned back. “Kenma, do you need to throw up, too?”

Kenma groaned and shook his head. “No, Kuro smells good. Way better than him.”

“Will the both of you be okay to practice?” Nekomata asked.

“Yes, sir.” Tsukishima pushed himself to stand. He felt the world spin, and he squeezed his eyes shut, but he didn’t fall over.

“Take your time,” Naoi said. “We’ll get everything set-up while you recover.”

Yaku walked beside him as they joined the rest of the team for discussion with the coach on what they needed to accomplish first. They sat on the floor and listened patiently with plenty of time for Tsukishima and Kenma to feel almost perfectly normal.

Yaku leaned into Tsukishima when it was all over and asked, “What scents do you like?”

“Hm?”

“Since you know I do actually like licorice somewhat, I’m curious what you enjoy.”

The captain’s faint scent of juniper played across his mind, but Kei didn’t want to admit that to Yaku with the person in question within earshot or ever. A faint blush crossed his cheeks as he quelled the desire to blurt it out and instead overrode it with the scent that felt like home—the one he missed smelling every day. “Sugar and cinnamon.”

Yaku grinned. “You’re blushing.”

The blush increased, but he didn’t say a word. Yaku could think what he wanted. Tsukishima knew he wasn’t attracted to Yamaguchi. Their friendship was just something different, and they were both omegas.

Yaku didn’t say anything else, and he was grateful for it. Tsukishima pushed off the floor, way steadier than before, and joined the queue for their receive practice. He thought he understood how much Nekoma valued their receives from what Nekomata said before practice, but the grueling hours Kei spent receiving the ball proved he only understood the surface. His arms were bright red like when he first started learning volleyball, and the stinging was warm and never ending. It felt familiar in a way that made him not mind the pain. Kuroo kept staring at his arms as if confused, but no one paid him much attention.

Tsukishima was exhausted at the end of practice, but Naoi told him he was shaping up as a better receiver but still needed a lot of practice. Their defense made their best offense.

Chapter Text

Tsukishima had his face buried in his phone in the clubroom texting someone. Yaku never saw him so intent on sending a message before and watched him with narrowed eyes. He quickly changed after sending the message and sure enough, his phone rang as he was exiting the club room.

“Tsukki!” the excited voice on the other end greeted. “I always knew you were good enough for first string. Now we’re both playing, and we could see each other across the net.”

Tsukishima was actually smiling as he slid out the door to talk.

“That must be sugar and cinnamon,” Yaku laughed.

In the next thirty seconds, somehow Kuroo was flying out the door saying he had to rush home.

“What the hell was that about?” Kai asked.

“No idea.” Kenma frowned. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen him act like that.”

“Weird,” Yaku said.

Outside, Kuroo followed Tsukishima from a distance, overly curious about the person on the other end of the line. He knew the voice, knew it was someone Tsukishima was close with, but he had his undeniable urge to know and understand.

Luckily, the other person’s voice was loud enough to hear, and Tsukishima was using speaker phone as he wrestled his gym bag and school bag.

“Still, I can’t believe you threw up from that alpha’s scent. Was it really that bad?”

“Awful. One of my teammates wasn’t as affected by it, and we both know what that means,” he laughed. “I don’t think he’s going to say anything about it though. I think this team only has two soulmate pairs, but you said your team was practically all pairs?”

“Mmm,” the other confirmed. “I think other than me, everyone’s pair is on this team. The captain and vice-captain, ace and libero, the other two new first years, oh and the manager and one of the second year senpais. I’m still learning everyone’s names, and I keep forgetting who they are. It’s kind of awkward, but I’ll get it.”

“That sounds like a full team of soulmates.”

The other boy laughed. “Pretty much. It’s me and the betas who don’t have our soulmate here.” There was a beat of silence. “Do you wish you were still here?”

“I don’t know.”

Tsukishima’s answer honestly surprised Kuroo who slipped into a small alcove along the walkway as the former paused and turned back sniffing the air as he recognized him.

“I miss you obviously, but Tokyo isn’t so bad. I know I barely know my team, but what I have learned is great. I’m still dead after receiving practice, but the coach really cares about us as evidenced by the last couple days. It’s not as bad as I assumed it would be.”

“Do you have someone you like?” he asked startled.

“Nothing like that,” Tsukishima said reassuringly. “More like people I’m interested in getting to know.”

“Wow, that’s huge for you.” The boy laughed.

Tsukishima made an annoyed sound that included a soft, “Shut up,” that the other apologized to before continuing.

“Tsukki, you hardly like people! The fact you want to get to know anyone is a miracle.”

“I’m going to stop calling you for a week.” Tsukishima continued walking.

“No, Tsukki! You can’t!”

Chapter Text

“What’s up with your sudden vested interest in the new first year middle blocker?” Yaku asked suddenly from behind Kuroo during study period.

“What do you mean?”

Yaku just blinked and didn’t say anything else.

“You’re saying it like I have an interest in Tsukishima more so than any other new first year on the team.” Kuroo’s shoulders tensed.

Yaku hummed. “I think most of us were just curious about why you ran out of the clubroom after him so quickly the other day after he got a phone call from a friend.”

“I didn’t run after him,” Kuroo argued whirling around to face Yaku. “I got a text from my dad saying I needed to hurry home from practice.”

“Kenma left fifteen minutes after you, and you both arrived home at the same time.”

“How the hell do you know that?”

“You’re not the only one who is friends with our setter. He texted me.” Yaku leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms.

“He—he texted you?” Kuroo looked startled at the revelation.

“Yep. Kenma was worried about you. Has never seen you act like you did there.”

“I’m not attracted to Tsukishima.”

Yaku smirked, and Kuroo knew he’d just given the cat exactly what it wanted.

“Never said you were.” Yaku picked up his pencil and scribbled out the next math problem in their workbook. “But now I know that you are. Can’t believe you formed a connection that quickly to feel that way. We’ve only had practice three times.”

Kuroo glared.

“Besides, it sounds like he has someone at another school. How far will your jealousy go? You’re not going to let it hurt our teamwork, are you?”

“Please, you know me better than that.”

“I do, and that’s why I’m concerned.” Yaku flipped an elbow onto his desk and rested his cheek against his palm. “I’m concerned you’re going to put all your focus into him instead of equally improving everyone.”

“Okay, but what if I truly see the most potential in him? Yaku, it’s not because I’m attracted to him, and I’m trying to convince him to like me back. You know I’m intent on waiting for my soulmate, I’m not going to make some move on a first year who most likely already has someone. I want Nekoma to be strong, and I think having Tsukishima as the other main middle blocker is a wise choice. He’s smart, he just needs to become stronger.” The thinness of Tsukishima’s limbs flashed through his mind. “And probably eat more, but I’m already getting on Kenma about that one, too.”

“And there’s the other problem.” Yaku pointed the pencil eraser at him like a weapon. “The way you act with Kenma would scare off any omega. I’m not saying you have to stop being friends with him, I just think you need to make it clearer that you and Kenma are not romantically or sexually involved with each other.”

“But—”

“There are no ‘buts’, Kuroo. We all know how your relationship with Kenma actually works, but if your soulmate showed up tomorrow, they would make the assumption that despite their appearance you won’t actually be interested. That’s all I’m pointing out.” Yaku turned the pencil back to his homework. “There’s no practice after school today. Are we going to go the ice-cream shop like normal?”

“Yeah.” He fished his phone out of his pocket and hid his hand under his desk as he sent the text to Kai, Yamamoto, and Kenma. “Should I see if Bokuto and Akaashi are free, too?”

“Might as well.” Yaku looked through the hall window and tapped Kuroo on the shoulder. “Sensei is coming.”

Chapter Text

“So, how’s Nekoma shaping up to be this year now that you started practices?” Akaashi asked as they sat down in the familiar parlor between Nekoma and Fukurōdani.

“Good. The first years we added to first string are already picking up on the importance of receiving,” Kuroo said.

“Ugh! Why do you have to focus so much on receives?” Bokuto complained laying out across the table and narrowly missing knocking over his ice cream. Akaashi swiftly moved it to the side before licking the ice cream from his fingers. Bokuto watched him with a hunger in his eyes despite his focus on their conversation. “It always sucks playing against you because it’s almost impossible to score. Not to mention your annoying blocking prowess.”

“You just need to get stronger, Bokuto-san. Then you could blast past Kuroo-san.”

“Akaashi!” Bokuto whined, pushing himself up to lean against his omega.

“Kuroo likes the new omega on our team,” Yaku pitched in helpfully.

Kuroo let his head hit the table and groaned.

“Oya?” Bokuto and Akaashi said together.

“Oh?” Kai took a bite of his ice cream. “Did he actually admit it?”

“I got it out of him earlier today in class.” Yaku smirked.

“I literally said I wasn’t interested because I’m waiting on my soulmate,” Kuroo muttered.

“And what if he is actually your soulmate, and you don’t know it?” Kenma collected one of his handheld game systems from his school bag and propped his elbows against the table as he started a level. “You could always go for it.”

“Or purposefully injure yourself to see if he has the same injury,” Yamamoto suggested.

They all paused.

“That might actually work,” Yaku whispered. “It would have to be something really obvious.”

The bell over the door jingled, a sharp whiff of strawberries cut over their group. Kuroo sat up straight staring at the blond walking through the door with a man a little shorter than him who bore a striking resemblance to Tsukishima.

“What flavor do you think mom wants?”

“Mom always likes caramel the best,” Tsukishima said. His nostrils flared, then he turned and saw most of the Nekoma team and two unfamiliar faces staring at him. He turned bright pink. He bowed politely in greeting before excusing himself from his companion and wandering closer. “Was there a team meeting I wasn’t aware of?”

“No,” Kenma said.

“Occasionally on days off we like to go out for ice cream,” Kai said. “I hope we didn’t offend you by not inviting you, Tsukishima-san.”

He shook his head. “Not at all. I was just surprised to see you all here.” He glanced at Akaashi and Bokuto again.

Kuroo stood suddenly. “Ah, let me introduce you.” He pointed to them each in turn. “This is Akaashi Keiji the second-year setter for Fukurōdani, and Bokuto Kōtarō, the captain. He’s a third year like me. This is Tsukishima Kei the new middle blocker for Nekoma.”

“Hajimemashite,” the three said politely.

“Kei,” Akiteru appeared behind him juggling the ice-cream. He passed him the cup covered in fresh strawberries.

“Is strawberry your favorite flavor, Tsukishima-kun?” Yaku asked with a knowing smile.

Tsukishima gave a non-committal shrug.

“Kei’s favorite dessert is strawberry shortcake,” Akiteru provided—unhelpfully in Kei’s opinion.

“Nii-san,” he said mostly under his breath.

“You should introduce me to your friends,” Akiteru pushed.

“They’re just my teammates, and their friends.” He bit his lip but begrudgingly introduced them.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you all. I’m Kei’s older brother Akiteru,” he said at the end of the introduction. “Thank you for taking care of him.”

“Of course,” Kuroo said.

“We have to get going to take this home to our mom, but it was good to meet you.” Akiteru held up the caramel covered ice-cream. “Hopefully I can come to some matches in the future. I used to play for Karasuno, and I remember playing against Nekoma. They were always really fun games.”

“We’d love to have you in the audience,” Kai said politely.

“Jaane,” Tsukishima said quietly.

They were almost at the door when Yaku nudged Kuroo and whispered furiously that he should say something else.

“Tsukishima,” he held out a hand for him to wait. “Um, on weekends I like to meet up with Bokuto and Akaashi to practice blocking. I thought you might want to join us because Bokuto is one of the top five spikers, so he makes for really good practice.”

“Although, he’s not strong enough to be top three,” Akaashi said just loud enough for Tsukishima to hear.

“Oi! Akaashi!” The whine appeared in Boktuo’s voice again.

Tsukishima made to respond in the negative, but Akiteru cut-in with a, “Wah! That’s a really great opportunity to have. You should definitely take it.” He gave Kei an innocent smile. “Go make sure your captain has your number, so he can contact you.”

Robotically, Tsukishima passed his dessert back to his brother who juggled the three before following his instructions.

Kuroo took his phone back almost reverently. “I’ll text you about this weekend.”

Tsukishima nodded before hurrying back to his brother and ushering them out.

Akaashi leaned forward and rested his cheek against his hand. “I can see why you like him, Kuroo-san. He’s cute.” Bokuto made an annoyed noise, but Akaashi patted his thigh softly under the table to calm him. “I was amazed that he’s taller than you.”

“Ugh,” Kuroo buried his face in his hands. “What was I thinking?”

“Even if he’s not your soulmate, blocking practice against Bokuto is still a good idea,” Kenma said. “I don’t have any motivation to join you, but it’ll be good for the team that he’s there. Whether you really like him or not is irrelevant in that fact.”

“Kenma,” Kuroo whispered peeking out from behind his hands.

“Here.” He reached over suddenly and pinched Kuroo hard on his arm in a visible location making sure to dig in his nails. “I feel bad if Tsukishima is actually your soulmate, but then you might have an idea.”

“Only if it bruises,” Kai laughed.

“Then we’ll just keep trying.” Yaku grinned broadly. “I need a good excuse to give Kuroo a few more injuries.”

“I hate you all.”

Chapter Text

Tsukishima stared at the text from Kuroo recognizing that he had it on read for five minutes already. He was half-tempted to tell the captain he had other plans and couldn’t make it, but his brother’s face kept popping into his head, and he felt the urge to join them at least once. If he didn’t like it, he could always find an excuse for future practice sessions. He finally settled with a simple message of, “I’ll be there” before turning off his phone.

Tsukishima checked the time on his phone. He was early. He had tried to time it to be late, but his sense of pride got the better of him, and he was ten minutes early. He huffed and considered looking for somewhere to get food on his phone to give him an excuse to be late, but just as he switched apps, he heard Kuroo say his name.

“You’re here early.” Kuroo had a set of keys tucked into his palm with the ring looped over his pointer finger.

“I wanted to make sure I didn’t get lost—since I’m new to Tokyo,” Tsukishima said.

“I thought you might be excited for extra practice.” The grin on Kuroo’s face let Kei know he was joking. He stepped toward the gym door and pushed the key in the lock. “Think you can help me set-up? I usually do it alone when I’m the first person here.”

Tsukishima nodded in lieu of answering.

“Bokuto’s dad owns the gym, and he gave each of us a key to use it when we like—provided they don’t have a need for it. We always make sure to check the schedule before we schedule extra practices.”

Kuroo switched out his shoes in the doorway, and Tsukishima followed suit.

“That’s nice of his dad to lose out on event money.”

“He prefers to view it as an investment in his son’s future.” Kuroo led him to the small side room where the supplies were kept.

They mostly set up in silence other than needing to communicate where to put certain pieces or request help. Just as Kuroo finished tying off the net, Bokuto and Akaashi appeared in the doorway.

“But Akaashi!” he whined. “Our cycles are already synced. Why can’t we—”

Akaashi caught sight of Tsukishima’s startled expression and placed a hand over Bokuto’s mouth. “We’ll talk later,” he hissed low enough that no one other than Bokuto could hear him. “Please, Bokuto-san, don’t scare off Tsukishima before Kuroo even has a slight chance.”

Bokuto nodded, and when he saw Tsukishima turn away with his cheeks pink, he swooped in for a quick kiss on the cheek. Kuroo never made a big scene about their PDA, but he could tell Tsukishima struggled with it.

“The way this usually works is I toss to Bokuto-san then Kuroo blocks. With you here, I assume you and Kuroo will be blocking together.” Akaashi looked to Kuroo. “Unless you’re wanting to play two-on-two?”

“Tsukishima?” Kuroo’s eyebrows raised with his question.

He shifted uncomfortably. “I’m fine with whatever you want.”

Kuroo watched him cautiously for several moments before looking at Akaashi as if searching for a correct answer. “Let’s just practice blocks then if that gets boring, we can play a match.”

Tsukishima was loathe to admit that he actually enjoyed practicing blocks with Kuroo and his two friends.

Bokuto was friendly and blunt to a fault, but he did feel like he learned a little from Kuroo’s tutoring. Akaashi also stepped in easily between them when something went awry, and they needed a mediator.

Tsukishima quite liked the omega setter from Fukurōdani. His initial uncertainty was washed away by the ease Akaashi handled everyone in the room including ribbing Kuroo. Before he really realized what he was agreeing to, Tsukishima told Akaashi he would be back the next weekend for more practice.

Chapter Text

“This year’s golden week training isn’t going to take place in Tokyo,” Nekomata told them at their next afternoon practice. “I received a great number of calls bordering on harassment from an old rival of ours in Miyagi.”

Tsukishima straightened and trained his eyes so fiercely on the coach that it took the others on his team by surprise. They watched him instead as Nekomata continued to speak.

“We’ve arranged for a local hostel to house us, and there’s a nearby gym where we can practice. However, most of our focus is going to be on playing various schools in the area. We’ll end our training by taking on our old rival, Karasuno.”

“Karasuno?” Tsukishima repeated quietly.

“Yes, do you know it?” Nekomata tilted his head curiously.

Tsukishima turned a faint shade of pink. “If my mom hadn’t moved us to Tokyo, I would’ve been a student there.”

“Oh ho!” Nekomata looked pleased, much like an old cat getting its belly rubbed. “Friends always make for the best rivals, I find. I’m also glad that we have you over them. I think we’d find you a bit annoying to play against.”

“Is that where cinnamon and sugar is?” Yaku asked with a sly grin. His vicious look only grew wider with the growing redness across the blond’s cheeks.

Tsukishima only nodded in reply. Kuroo felt goosebumps rise against his arms and fought off the unease swirling in his gut.

None of the teams in Miyagi for their training week were particularly difficult to handle. They were all mid-tier and lost within two sets. They spent a lot of time in the rented gymnasium in the morning and evening to cover for their lack of real training. Tsukishima was growing used to the pace Nekoma trained at, and he wondered if he would’ve flourished the same at Karasuno or if he’d be stunted for longer. There was something growing in the back of his mind regarding volleyball, but he couldn’t quite place it.

The last day arrived, and with it an heir of anticipation that Tsukishima was sure his pheromones added to. He kept reminding himself to keep them in check and apologizing to his teammates.

“You’re really excited about this match, aren’t you?” Yaku peeked over the back of the seat to stare at Tsukishima. “I’ve never seen you like this.”

“I’ve missed my friend,” Tsukishima mumbled. “We talk on the phone all the time, but it’s different.”

“Were you and he close?” Yaku asked.

“He’s the only friend I’ve ever had. Not to say that you aren’t my friend, Yaku-senpai.”

Yaku waved it off. “No, I get it. We’re all teammates and friends, but there’s something special about this one. We can tell.”

Tsukishima nodded. Yaku’s eyes flitted to a couple rows back where Kuroo sat stiffly, arms folded, staring daggers down the middle of the bus toward the dashboard.

“Well,” Yaku straightened in his seat before turning to sit correctly. “Make sure you introduce us properly. We’re all excited to see who can make our quiet kōhai so different.”

The rest of the short ride was subdued. After their match with Karasuno, they would sleep on the bus as it drove them home to Tokyo. No more nights in the hostel. They’d use the rented gym locker room to change into their civvies before heading home.

The bus pulled into the available parking at the gym, and the team climbed off the bus finally starting a drivel of chatter as they approached. Kuroo took the lead without much fanfare. Then, there was a collection of smells drifting toward them as they approached the front doors, and everyone stiffened expectantly. They lined up, one-by-one, meeting Karasuno’s team head on.

“Tsukki!” The disquietude of their meeting broke as the Karasuno member threw himself excitedly around Tsukishima for a hug.

Kuroo turned to stare in unplanned coordination with Sawamura Daichi, the opposing captain. He took a deep breath, and it only took a moment before relief flooded him as he realized the cinnamon and sugar scent emitting from the teen now hanging off Tsukishima was that of a fellow omega.

“Yamaguchi, let go,” Tsukishima said.

“Gomen, Tsukki! I know you don’t like being hugged. I just haven’t seen you in person in so long.” Yamaguchi hummed with excitement as the two teams turned to head inside for warm-ups. “I really wish we could’ve gone to the same school. Then we could be two without our soulmates on the team. It’s actually kind of lonely.”

Tsukishima laughed, startling Nekoma. “It’s not lonely on Nekoma, but most of us are without soulmates.”

“See! You don’t know what it’s like.” Yamaguchi turned in the doorway to look back at Nekoma as a team. “Are you the tallest on your team, Tsukki?”

“Yes,” Tsukishima said. “Of first string, anyway. That really annoying alpha with the bad smell is taller than me.”

Yamaguchi laughed. He made to say something else but was interrupted by Karasuno’s coach yelling, “Yamaguchi! Come change into your uniform and warm up.”

“Yes, coach!” Yamaguchi turned back to his best friend briefly. “We’ll talk more after the game.”

“Un,” Tsukishima vocalized as a positive. Suddenly, he was surrounded by Kai and Yaku leading him over to the bench to change. Kuroo had his shirt off and was struggling with getting the number one uniform flipped right to pull on. He cursed it violently, and Kenma rolled his eyes before kicking him in the shin and pointing to Tsukishima.

“You didn’t tell us cinnamon and sugar was an omega!” Yaku looked rather put-out with his lower lip sticking out a bit farther than usual.

“I didn’t see that information as pertinent.”

“Not pertinent!” Kai laughed, glancing at Kuroo.

“We thought he was your soulmate,” Kenma said.

Tsukishima didn’t look startled by the revelation. “I realized. I just didn’t feel the need to correct anyone.” He shrugged. “Yamaguchi is Yamaguchi.”

Yaku laughed and shook his head. “Here you are, just a normal omega cozying up with other omegas. I didn’t think anything was normal about you, Tsukishima-kun.”

Tsukishima pursed his lips and caught Yaku off-guard with a well-timed shove that resulted in a small skirmish that their coach reprimanded them for before their official warm-up.

Chapter Text

“The next time you tell me your team is insane, I’m going to believe it,” Tsukishima mumbled as he leaned on Yamaguchi’s shoulder against the wall near where Nekoma was packing their things and preparing to leave.

Yamaguchi laughed. “I told you! I can’t believe we played that many sets against you.” He paused and dropped his head against Tsukishima’s. He knew his best friend was uncharacteristically cuddly, and he chalked it up to their lack of physical contact over the last month. He wisely chose not to say anything. “I think it was impressive you and your captain were starting to catch on with Hinata and Kageyama’s quicks near the end. I’ve never seen you play like that before.”

Tsukishima hummed softly. “There’s something about being on Nekoma that makes me want to try a little more. Maybe, it’s because it’s not Karasuno? It’s like the team is not colored by my perceptions of it because of nii-chan.”

“Maybe.” Yamaguchi felt the hair on his arms rise and a sharp bolt of pain through his left arm made him jump and hiss.

Tsukishima sat up, adjusting his glasses. “Soulmate pain?”

“Yeah.” Yamaguchi rubbed the muscle still jumping as if electrified. “It’s been worse lately, and I don’t know why. Whoever it is, is usually very careful.” He flexed his fingers. “Really tempted to give them an injury back though. Mind kicking me in the shin?”

“Any day.” Tsukishima laughed.

A shadow fell over them, and Tsukishima looked up to see Kuroo, Kai, and Yaku standing over him.

“Did I do something wrong to have all the third years after me?” he asked.

The pain flashed through Yamaguchi’s left arm again and he yelped. “Maybe I’ll ask Hinata to spike me in the face. He hit Kageyama in the back of the head with a serve during a practice match, and that was the moment they realized they were soulmates.”

“That would’ve been hilarious to watch.” Tsukishima’s lips twitched into a brief smile, but the third years still hadn’t said anything to him, and he could feel his nerves tightening.

Yaku sat on the ground and leaned forward. “What are your soulmate injuries like?”

“That’s what you’re so curious about?” Tsukishima scoffed and closed his eyes before returning his head to Yamaguchi’s shoulder. “They are frequent and never ending. I think my soulmate might be an idiot because it’s like they never stop getting bruised.”

“Tsukki thinks it’s retaliation for the broken arm he had as a kid,” Yamaguchi said.

“You broke your arm?” Kuroo asked, obviously startled.

“He was protecting me from some bullies.” Yamaguchi smiled. “I was really grateful, but I did feel bad for his soulmate.”

“Initially, I thought when my soulmate broke their leg a year later it was all the retaliation they wanted against me, but apparently not. My soulmate is vindictive.”

“Your soulmate broke their leg?” Kenma paused on his way past attempting to hide from Karasuno’s persistent setter.

Tsukishima nodded. “After I broke my arm, they turned my other arm black and blue with pinches, so I returned the favor when they broke their leg. No idea what they did, but based on the injuries I keep sustaining, it was something stupid.”

“How old were you when you broke your arm?” Kuroo prodded.

Tsukishima opened his eyes and appeared to think for a while. “Elementary school. I want to say it was probably like year five.”

“That sounds right,” Yamaguchi nodded. “It happened the year before we went to that match Akiteru-nii told us not to go to.”

Tsukishima visibly stiffened at the mention of it. Yaku tucked that away to ask about later.

“We ended up going while you had that broken leg because you couldn’t attend practice anyway,” Yamaguchi finished.

“That’s right,” Tsukishima said faintly.

“Nekoma!” Naoi-sensei called across the group. “Time to pack up your things and head to the bus to go home.”

The three omegas stood.

“It was good to see you again, Tsukki.” Yamaguchi tucked his arms behind his back to keep from hugging his friend. “I hope we can play against each other again in the future.”

“I don’t doubt we will,” Kuroo said. He shouldered his bag. “It was fun to meet you crows.”

“Bye, Tadashi,” Tsukishima whispered where only Yaku overheard.

“Text me to let me know you got home safe! My mom is still worried about you.”

He nodded and followed after the rest of his team, exiting the building with some hope for the future.

Chapter Text

“Kuro,” Kenma whispered when they were back on the bus.

“I know,” Kuroo’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed around a thick lump forming. “It’s all close. It aligns.”

“And because you get injured so often, he doesn’t hardly notice it anymore.” Yaku knelt on the seat behind them and braced himself against the back of Kenma’s chair as he leaned over.

“That’s assuming we are actually—” he jerked his head as he couldn’t bring himself to say the word soulmates.

“Even if I hit Kuroo right now, he probably wouldn’t even react.” Kai sat in his seat sideways, taking up part of Yaku’s mostly vacant seat where he could watch Tsukishima from the corner of his eye. “With the amount of bruises the both of you are littered in, we would have to make the injury too great to risk.”

“What do I do?” Kuroo asked.

“First off,” Yaku flicked him in his temple, “you don’t freak out.”

Tsukishima scowled from his seat before reaching up and irritatedly rubbing the spot Yaku had flicked. He reached for his bag and pulled out his headphones before snapping them into place with more force than necessary that made Kuroo rub his ears. He leaned against the window with full intention to sleep the rest of the journey home and closed his eyes.

“Well, that confirms that.” Kenma rested his cheek on his hand. “That was easier than expected.”

“It’s legit. It’s not just attraction.” Kuroo stared at his hands, blindly playing with his fingers. “He’s the one I’ve waited for.”

“Now comes the really hard part,” Kai said.

“What’s the hard part?” Yaku looked away from Tsukishima just as the bus jolted over a large bump in the road.

Kuroo winced in pain as Tsukishima’s head bounced against the glass.

“Well, Kuroo has to figure out how to date a teammate without messing up the whole dynamic. That’s an undertaking with a lot of implications, besides convincing Tsukishima that they are actually soulmates.”

“That’s true.” Kenma hung over the back of his seat. “If you fight, it becomes a team fight. We can’t communicate well with one another when we don’t get along. You all know who my soulmate is, but I’ve avoided having that conversation with him because I don’t want it to be a team problem. Maybe I can do the cliché last day of third year confession.”

Kuroo grunted. It was true. Their group were the only people who knew for certain that Yamamoto was Kenma’s soulmate. With how many fights they got into on a regular basis around volleyball, they didn’t want to see what would happen if they disagreed outside of the club.

“Yaku has to face the same thing if our new kohai manages to escape the second string.” Kai lowered his eyes under the fierce glare Yaku settled on him.

“Yamaguchi made that comment about us not finding our soulmates, but it’s more that we haven’t acted on it unlike their team,” Kenma said. “I think all of us have our partners, we’re just not doing the relationship portion.”

“I wonder how they do it with such ease.” Yaku leaned back against the window as they approached another large bump. He hoped Lev felt the pain of the window frame hitting him in the back of the head or it wouldn’t be worth it.

Kuroo hissed at the arrival of his own punishment from Tsukishima. “Can someone please go move his head?”

“Nah,” Yaku grinned and kicked him softly in the shin. “This is payback for all your recklessness over the years.”

“Their dynamic being the way it is with everyone dating makes me almost want to try.” Kenma’s eyes trailed to Yamamoto at the back of the bus with Inuoka. He made a rather large and inappropriate gesture that had them both laughing. “Then I remember how annoying he is and realize it isn’t worth it.”

Kuroo snorted. “Yamamoto is an interesting one.”

Another bump and another ripple of pain.

“I know I deserve it, but I’ve gotta move him.” Kuroo stood.

Yaku placed a hand on his wrist. “Let me. You might scare him if the first thing he sees after waking is you. He’s warmed up to me a bit.”

“I thought you were punishing Lev.” Kai raised an eyebrow in his direction.

“Yeah, well unfortunately punishing him also means hurting myself which I can only entertain for so long.” He scooted past Kuroo and sat in the empty seat next to Tsukishima. Yaku took his time to rearrange his things, allowing Kuroo to sustain one more head injury before he gently pulled Kei away from the window.

He stirred briefly, but Yaku said something undiscernible before pressing his body into him, and Tsukishima drifted off again with his head resting against the third year’s.

Chapter Text

“So, Tsukishima is actually your soulmate?” Bokuto asked, pulling apart a bagel as they sat in a small coffee house. “I hate these things. How are you supposed to eat them?”

Akaashi rolled his eyes before taking the bagel from his mate and using a knife to slice it open and spread the individually packaged cream cheese on it. “You’re like a child, Bokuto-san.”

“We already knew Bo was a child.” Kuroo snickered at the middle finger Bokuto showed him. “We confirmed we are soulmates on the bus back home from Miyagi.”

“After playing a game with the team he was originally supposed to be on,” Akaashi confirmed with a raised eyebrow. After a small nod from Kuroo, he continued. “Well, aren’t you glad he’s on Nekoma instead of in a completely different prefecture? I feel like that would be way harder to date.”

“That’s the thing. Nobody on my team is dating their soulmate. It’s not like they don’t exist, but they’re all thinking of the balance they have to strike between a personal relationship and the team dynamic.”

“Bokuto-san and I are dating, but it doesn’t foul up our gameplay when we have a disagreement off the court. I at least recognize that even if I’m upset with Bokuto-san about something that he is our Ace, and the sets must go to him.”

“Yeah, but you and Bo don’t really argue that often? Do you?” Kuroo pressed the coffee cup to his lips.

“We’ve been in an argument for a few weeks, actually.” Akaashi took a bit of the other half of the bagel.

Kuroo’s eyes darted between them before he said, rather sarcastically, “Wow. I can hardly stand to be in the same room as you considering all the animosity. I’m sorry to call you both out like this. I’d really appreciate it if you wouldn’t be at each other’s throats in my presence in the future.”

Bokuto started laughing, and even Akaashi cracked a smile.

“It’s an important argument, but it’s also not enough for us to let it get in the way of everything else. That’s what a relationship is really about.” Akaashi laid his head softly against Bokuto’s shoulder. “I think you need to answer that first—define what it is you want from a potential relationship with Tsukishima. We all know Yamamoto isn’t mentally ready for a relationship, and that’s what’s really holding Kenma back. Plus, Kenma has his own issues.”

“Wait, Kenma and Yamamoto are soulmates?” Bokuto asked.

Kuroo nodded, but kept his gaze focused on Akaashi.

“I’m with Bokuto because I want him for who he is. I want to build a future with him even when he’s being difficult.”

“If you can talk about your relationship like this, what the fuck are you arguing over?” Kuroo asked with furrowed brows. “If you want to share.”

They shared a meaningful glance before Akaashi rolled his eyes and returned to eating his bagel.

“It’s nothing super serious.” Bokuto rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s just that I want to spend Akaashi’s heat with him, but he wants us to wait until we’ve both graduated from high school. I’ve told him that it’s not like we haven’t had sex before, but Akaashi thinks it’ll be different in our heat and rut combo, and he’s worried something might happen that we’ll regret.”

“Like an accidental claiming,” Akaashi said. “I’m not against wearing a collar, but Bokuto-san doesn’t want to. He says he trusts me, and I don’t trust myself. There’s other things, too, but that’s the gist of it.”

Kuroo hummed. “I see.” He watched Akaashi softly thread his fingers through Bokuto’s before resting their hands beneath the table. “Even though he’s my soulmate, it isn’t like we’re going to just jump into a relationship with each other.”

Akaashi shook his head. “If you remember, I refused to date Bokuto-san for half a year after we realized. I wasn’t ready, and I knew he wasn’t—despite his many complaints to the contrary.”

“Akaashi makes a really good point,” Bokuto said. “I always kind of imagined that when I met my soulmate it would be like a lightbulb moment, and everything would fall into place. There’s a romantic idea of soulmates that they’re your perfect other half, and while I can say that’s true, it doesn’t mean that you don’t still have to put in work to the relationship. It’s not easy like I thought it was before meeting Akaashi. So, even if Tsukishima knew you and him are soulmates, I don’t think it would immediately change anything in your relationship.”

“I think I should wait,” Kuroo said. “It’s cool that I know who my soulmate is, but I wouldn’t say I know much about Tsukishima outside of the club. Other than random information we’ve learned.”

Bokuto and Akaashi nodded knowingly, recalling the ice cream parlor.

“I can stay focused on the club this way and just let things progress semi-naturally, maybe get to know him.” He bit his lip. “Afterall, he still has practically three years of high school in front of him, while I’m finishing my last one.”

“That’s a good thing to point out,” Bokuto said. “A two-year gap is different from mine and Akaashi’s one year.” He glanced at his boyfriend and turned a faint shade of pink at the intense stare. “Yeah, I heard it.”

Akaashi laughed through his nose. “Who knows, in six months you could be like us. Well… maybe not the same. We did realize we were soulmates pretty early on before that and everything. If only you know, that’s a different problem.”

“Soulmates actually kind of suck.” Kuroo upper lip curled into a sneer. It set the other two into contagious peals of laughter.

Chapter Text

Summer was quickly approaching along with Tsukishima’s heat and the preliminaries. The coaches approached him privately to tell him to keep a close eye on his symptoms and warned him to stay home even if he felt the slightest one. They didn’t want any accidents close to the first matches, and he wholly understood. Inuoka was set to take his place in any matches they might miss, and the coaches subsequently had them practice with more rotations.

When he woke up that morning with the tell-tale tickle of heat in his stomach, he vetoed going to school under the coaches’ orders. It was shortly into afternoon classes when his heat hit him full force. He wrapped himself in his bed and tried to hide himself away from the world. He didn’t really hate any of it, but it was annoying and inconvenient.

He wasn’t aware of the time when his phone rang, and he rolled over annoyed, trying to find it among the blankets. He heard it clatter to the floor, and he groaned. Luckily, the phone was okay, and when he saw Kuroo’s name on the screen he hesitated to answer. He was already having a hard time keeping images of Kuroo out of his mind as the heat took over, but he thought it would look bad to ignore the captain’s call as well.

“Hello?” he asked lowly.

“Practice started three minutes ago, why aren’t you here?” Kuroo’s warm voice wrapped around his mind and took hold in the deepest darkest places where he didn’t want it to be. It would be too dangerous.

He groaned. “If practice started three minutes ago, why are you calling me?”

“Prelims are upon us. We need our main line up here to practice. I know you’ve been rotating out with Inuoka more, but it’s no reason to skip.”

“I’m not skipping,” Tsukishima’s fingers twitched under the blankets, aching to reach lower. “Coaches told me not to come.”

“They what?” Kuroo growled. The sound joined the other voice files quickly storing themselves away for his heat. He hated and loved every moment Kuroo was on the phone.

“I really shouldn’t be there today,” Tsukishima said. “It’s for the best.”

“It’s not for the best! You’re a way better middle blocker than Inuoka.”

“Thank you for the compliment, Kuroo-san, but I need you to listen to what I’m saying.” He gritted his teeth and tried not to pant directly into the receiver.

“What?”

“The coaches told me not to come today, but it’s not because they don’t want me playing in the matches,” Tsukishima’s voice sounded strained. “It’s because of my heat. I can’t play right now even if I wanted to.”

The line was quiet for several seconds, and Tsukishima checked to see if he was still connected.

“Senpai?”

Kuroo cleared his throat. “I’m sorry for assuming you were skipping.”

Tsukishima laughed. “At least I know what my captain really thinks of me.” He shoved his face into the pillow to muffle his groan. “The coaches were switching me out with Inuoka early, so my absence wouldn’t interrupt practice.”

“I’m sorry for misunderstanding,” Kuroo’s voice was tight and sounded gruff.

“Thanks, I guess.” Tsukishima pressed his hands into his stomach to keep himself from doing something he shouldn’t on the phone with his captain of all people.

Kuroo swallowed audibly before he said, “I should let you go. I told them I was using the bathroom, so I have to get back to practice.”

“Mmm,” was the only thing Tsukishima could bring himself to say.

“I’ll see you back at practice in a few days.”

“Bye, Kuroo-san.” He watched the line go dead before he gave into the darkest corners of his mind that had dangerous new fodder to fuel him.

“I’m so stupid,” Kuroo had hurriedly texted Bokuto and Akaashi after calling Tsukishima before tucking his phone away for practice. They agreed to meet for a late dinner at one of their favorite restaurants. “I don’t know why I didn’t think of that. He could’ve been sick, too. I just went and accused him of skipping. I even called him.”

“You’ve called other team members when they’re out, too, though,” Bokuto tried to reason.

“None of them were in heat.” He buried his face in his hands. “Fuck. I can’t get the sound of his voice out of my head. I’ve known him for three months, of course he had to be due for a heat. I’m just so fucking stupid. What is wrong with me?”

Akaashi licked the okonomiyaki from the small spatula before saying, “Your favorite person was missing, so you were worried.”

“I honestly don’t know how I went to practice after that.” Kuroo scratched his cheek. “I wasn’t thinking at all. Kenma already laughed at me before going home. I could barely bring myself to hang up with him. Once I knew, I just—I didn’t want to stop.”

Bokuto chuckled while Akaashi hid a smile behind his hand. The former reached out a hand and placed it on Kuroo’s shoulder. “I know how that one goes. I’m impressed you could control yourself. You’re a good person.”

Kuroo groaned and turned his attention to the food starting to burn on the hot plate in front of them. “Neither of you are any help.”

“The last thing you need right now is advice,” Akaashi said. “You said you were going to wait to tell him anything in the first place. So, you accidentally called him at the start of his heat. It’s not a big deal unless either of you make a big deal.” He finished off the last of his okonomiyaki. “I’m going to use the restroom then I’ll be back. It’s getting late.”

“We’ll finish while you’re gone,” Bokuto reassured. He leaned back in his chair and examined Kuroo who was picking at his food. “Look, you’re beating yourself up over a mistake. You didn’t know, and you kept yourself under control. You didn’t do anything at all proving who you are. You’ll probably not be able to stop thinking about it because you know who Tsukishima is to you, but you have to put it behind you, or you’re going to run Nekoma into the ground like you’re afraid of. Granted, Fukurōdani won’t mind all things considered, but I don’t want to see my best friend wind up hating himself.”

Kuroo nodded numbly and carefully cut around the burned edges of his dinner before shoving the hot bite into his mouth and nearly burning his tongue. “Thanks, Bo.”

“Anytime,” he said.

Chapter Text

Kuroo was tying his shoelaces when Tsukishima pushed the club room door open. They stared at each other for a long moment before Kuroo cleared his throat and said, “Welcome back.”

“Thanks,” Tsukishima mumbled.

Kuroo convinced himself the faint pink spreading across Tsukishima’s cheeks wasn’t because of him or a certain phone call. He stared at the floor and leaned back on the bench, bracing himself on his palms. “I’m glad you came back before we played official matches. Inuoka is good, but you’re better. Nekoma should win with you on the front lines.”

“You have too much confidence in me, captain.”

The corner of his lip twitched into a smile. “Maybe,” he agreed. “I still prefer you on the court to Inuoka or Lev.”

Tsukishima’s nose curled at the thought of Lev. “You could avoid mentioning that second one.”

Kuroo hummed and stood, stretching his arms over his head. “The coaches are considering promoting him. Apparently, he’s made a lot of improvement, and he’s keeping his scent under control.”

It felt like he’d been doused in cold water. Tsukishima’s hands shook against the locker. “What position are they wanting him to play?”

“Middle blocker.”

Tsukishima cut-off his emotions as quick a possible hoping to hide any change in his scent. Kuroo turned as if he picked up on it in the brief moment distress had curled its way around Kei’s mind.

“They’re not planning on him replacing you or anything—it’s more about me.” He raised a hand to the back of his neck. “I am in my third year, after all. They need someone to take my place next year. They’re thinking of having Inuoka play as a wing spiker in place of Kai. We already have Shibayama to replace Yaku as well.”

“You haven’t retired, yet,” Tsukishima said.

“No, but we still need to train those who are taking over.” Kuroo cleared his throat. “I just thought it would be better if you heard it from me considering how you reacted to his scent before. I already told Kenma, and I need to tell Yaku.”

“Tell me what?” Yaku asked as he pushed open the door.

Kuroo repeated the story and reasoning while Tsukishima changed and tried not to think about the layers of hurt he felt. He had no right to feel that way in the first place. It wasn’t just that Lev would join the team as a potential replacement for Kuroo the next year that made his heart ache for some reason he couldn’t quite define, it was also that Kenma had a place at Kuroo’s side that he didn’t have, and he had no idea why that pissed him off so much. He was frustrated by all of it—the idea that he had to deal with Lev’s scent again, that there was a potential he wouldn’t be on the court.

“Tsukishima?” Yaku’s hand on his arm broke through the reverie. He’d let his scent escape his control without realizing it. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” he choked out. “Yamaguchi just texted me something that annoyed me. Sorry.”

Yaku pursed his lips, and Kei could tell the third year didn’t believe him. He narrowed his eyes slightly before saying. “Get a check on your scent, yeah?”

“Sorry,” he repeated. “Still a bit hazy from—” His eyes met Kuroo’s, and he swallowed uncomfortably. A faint blush started around Kuroo’s ears, and he knew the former knew what he’d left unsaid. “I’ll check it. Sorry.”

He pushed around them and hurried through the club room door. Yaku slipped his shirt over his head before stuffing his feet into his untied shoes and hurried after him. He patted Kuroo’s shoulder along the way. “I got it.”

Yaku caught up to him in no time at all despite their height difference. He gently grabbed Tsukishima’s arm and hauled him away from the main gym to a secluded corner of the school grounds. They could still see the gym from where they were, but it felt private in comparison.

“I’m not normally like this. I don’t lose control.”

“I know you aren’t,” Yaku reassured. “Care to talk about what’s going on?”

“I just feel weird,” Tsukishima shrugged. He could feel his world imploding around him like when he saw his brother in the stands at the Karasuno game so long ago, but he couldn’t bring himself to tell Yaku that story. He didn’t want anyone to know. He didn’t want them to know what he was responsible for. “I must still be recovering from my heat.”

Yaku hummed, and Tsukishima thought he might suspect the truth. When he spoke, he didn’t call him out on the potential lie. “I know how hard it is going to be to have Haiba-san around—well, somewhat.” He stretched out his legs and leaned back on his palms where they sat on the curb. “Obviously, his scent isn’t pleasing to everyone, and I’m sure his control issues haven’t entirely vanished. His personality is abrasive, and I’ve heard not much has changed there, but the coaches are looking at his abilities right now. He’s improving at a rapid rate, and he is poised to be a good replacement for Kuroo next year. It’s inevitable that all of us are going to leave.”

Tsukishima wrapped his arms around his legs. “We’re only in the interhigh competition.”

“It’s never too late to be thinking about the future. Third years are usually encouraged to quit after interhigh.”

A small slip of distressed pheromones tickled Yaku’s nose, and he turned to look at Tsukishima.

“I know none of us are currently planning on doing that. I want to be a professional player, and Kuroo definitely wants to stay in volleyball as long as he can. I don’t think he really wants to go pro, but he loves this sport too much to give it up.” Yaku bumped his shoulder into Tsukishima’s. “So, don’t worry. Haiba-san would only come on the court if you were injured.”

Kei bit back a grin as a joke formed in the back of his mind. “Ah, so you’re warning me that my life will soon be overrun with sabotage attempts to injure me.”

Yaku snorted. “I think if Haiba-san dared do that, your soulmate would kill him.” He let out a soft breath. “I kind of hate that I’m the only one semi-looking forward to having Haiba-san on first string.”

“If you could get a handle on your licorice addiction—”

Yaku fully shoved him over onto the ground at that remark. “I already have to suffer headaches and ridiculous easy to avoid volleyball injuries because of him, stop making my life harder.”

“He still has no idea, does he?” Kei tried to sit up, but Yaku linked their hands together and wrestled him back to the ground, sitting over his stomach.

“Nope,” he cleared his throat. “He’ll figure it out eventually, or I’ll tell him. I haven’t decided which yet.”

Tsukishima pushed himself out from under Yaku and straightened his glasses. He stayed on the ground staring at the sky.

“I’ve been wondering whether anything is really easier if you know who your soulmate is or not.”

“I vote for ‘no,’ but your friend is on Karasuno where practically everyone is known soulmates. I think it really depends on the couple.” Yaku knelt and watched the others file through the door. “But, it’s not the conversation of soulmates that’s bothering you.”

Kei looked away, letting his gaze go hazy as each team member crossed to the gym.

“I’m not going to bother you or try to pull the answer out of you,” Yaku said. “I just wanted you to know that I’m here if you need someone to talk to. I know it can be hard adding new team members and throwing off an expected rhythm. Haiba-san makes you uncomfortable, and everyone is going to do everything in their power to make it a better transition for all of us.”

“Thank you, Yaku-san.”

“And I never thought I’d be saying this to you, but your scent control has been slipping recently.”

“I know.” Tsukishima refused to look at him out of shame. “I’ll work on remaining more neutral.”

Yaku patted Kei on the head before dragging him off to the gym for practice.

Chapter Text

Tsukishima jumped for the block at the net against Taishō Aacademy. Kuroo spent the last week with him drilling home how he should block. Farther away from the net. Hands forward, so they can’t blow past as easy. Be ready to change between kill and soft blocks based on how they move. Watch for shifts, you might need to move your arms to block a cross when you prepared for a straight or vice versa. Kuroo drilled him so hard on every aspect, that his muscles still ached when they walked into the gym that morning to compete in preliminaries.

Over the weekend, he managed to cut-off four of Bokuto’s spikes much to the alpha’s displeasure, Kuroo’s joy, and Akaashi’s quiet amusement.

“Could you stop turning Tsukishima into another you!” Bokuto had yelled across the net.

Kuroo had laughed and goaded their exceptional blocks while Tsukishima watched with a slightly tilted head wondering if Kuroo did want him to be another version of himself.

As his arms moved to the side to block the sudden change to a cross shot, his lips curled into a smirk reminiscent of Kuroo’s. The ball connected with his hands before tumbling to the court and scoring Nekoma another point. Nekoma cheered, patting Tsukishima on the back, and for a brief moment he couldn’t fight a smile that wanted to appear.

The team rotated, bringing Tsukishima into the back row and Kuroo into the front where Yaku switched places. They were at match point. He wasn’t as confident with his serves, but he accepted the ball from the ref and held it out in front of him. He breathed slowly, waited for the whistle, then tossed and jumped narrowly getting the ball over the net. Taishō Academy picked it up easily and sent them into a rally. The ball soared over the net just past Kuroo’s block, and Tsukishima slid to the floor receiving the ball just in time.

“Nice, Tsukki!” Yaku called from off the court.

Kenma moved to get under the ball and sent it flying to Yamamoto. The spike resounded around the stadium before they broke into another round of cheers. They took the first set. Yamamoto bumped fists with Kenma thanking him for the perfect set. Kuroo slung a sweaty arm around Tsukishima’s shoulders, and the warm smell of juniper filled his lungs, sending his own scent swelling without his recognition.

“You did good, Tsukishima.” Kuroo cleared his throat and took a step away. “Much improved from all our training.”

“Thank you,” he swallowed and tried to reign in the scent of ripe strawberries crowding the court.

“Ya know, I think the coaches were thinking that you’d replace Kuroo when we graduate, not Haiba-san. He’s just the unfortunate one our team has to deal with.” Yaku nudged Tsukishima softly and passed him his water bottle.

“I’m not nearly as good as Kuroo-san.” Tsukishima curled in on himself. “It’s rude to the captain to compare us.”

Yaku glanced at Kuroo who was having a hard time hiding the red flush spreading across his cheeks. Kenma handed Kuroo water as an aid to hide his thoughts.

“We just have to win one more set, then we’re in the top four,” Nekomata said. “Be sure to take it nice and slow. They were a hard opponent in the first set, so I’m sure they could take us by surprise if we aren’t focusing on each rally. Do what Nekoma does best. Receive and attack.”

“Yes!” everyone shouted together.

“I want us to start with the rotation that has Tsukishima on the front row and Kuroo in the back. We have control, so Kuroo is starting us off with serves before Yaku will switch in.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Keep an eye on their number seven, he’s quite skilled. That cross he switched up on Tsukishima was quite advanced even if it didn’t pack as big of a punch as we’ve faced before. I think they have a few more tricks up their sleeve, so keep your eyes out for anything they might try. Pay attention to body language. Connect every ball.”

Tsukishima took another large swallow of water before handing the bottle to one of the second-string members working as a manager for the game.

It was in the second set that the verbal ribbing started. It was almost impressive how it turned nasty so quickly, but Tsukishima wasn’t surprised. Opponents used his secondary gender against him nearly all his life once they found out, and it wasn’t anything new for him. He could tell it was new for his teammates.

“The tall omega is definitely fucking the captain to get his position on the team, isn’t he?” they whispered.

Tsukishima rolled his eyes and didn’t say anything. Kai turned slowly with venom in his gaze.

“How many of the omegas do you think the captain fucks? Probably all of them, right?”

Kenma heard that comment and his head snapped up, jaw hanging open as he stared in awe at the audacity.

“What do you think number ten smells like in heat if that’s how he smells on the court?”

“No one will ever know, he’s too tall. No one would want to fuck him—not even his soulmate.”

That last one stung a little bit, and for a fraction of a second Tsukishima’s scent betrayed him catching the attention of his team. He shut off his emotions a moment later. Kei was particularly vicious in his first few blocks, staring down the opponent with vitriol in his gaze. He rotated into the backline for his serve when the coach switched him out with Teshiro as the pinch server. Kuroo was in the front line when another one of the comments flew across the net. Tsukishima couldn’t hear what they said, but he smelled the flare of anger in Kuroo, and the ref called a foul on him using his scent. He looked about ready to charge across the net, and Nekomata wisely called a time out.

“Kuroo, calm down,” Yaku said with his hands out in front of him.

“Calm down?!” he nearly shouted.

“Yes, Kuroo, calm down.” Kenma grabbed his arm to keep him from turning to the other team.

“It’s normal ribbing, Kuroo-san. There’s no need to freak out,” Tsukishima said.

The whole team went quiet.

“Tsukishima,” Kai’s voice was barely above a whisper, but they all heard it. “Those comments aren’t normal during a game.”

Tsukishima’s mouth curled into a slow frown. “I hear it at every match I’ve ever played in.”

“I’m going to kill them.” Kuroo turned back to the opposing team again.

“Kuroo-san, don’t!” Tsukishima reached out without thinking.

With their height difference, his hand slipped over Kuroo’s shoulder, and the scenting gland on his wrist collided with the one on the alpha’s neck. A full body shudder went across the captain’s spine, and he turned back in shock. His eyes were blown wide.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to do that.” Tsukishima drew his hands back to his face to cover his mouth. He fell into a deep bow. “I’m so sorry, Kuroo-san. I shouldn’t have—” His panic was rising, but he had a lock on his scent at the very least.

“Tsukishima, sit on the bench for a moment,” Naoi said. “Kuroo, go outside for a moment and cool your head. Inuoka will play in your spot for right now.” He turned back to the rest of the team. “As for everyone else, try not to let their ribbing bother you. There’s some teams out there that will try to use secondary gender against you. Don’t fall for it. It’s evidence Tsukishima is already used to it. Their comments will probably get nastier as the game goes on. It’s clearly an attempt to target our minds over everything else. Focus on the ball. Block out all words if you need to. I know this team will find a way to communicate in silence because that’s who Nekoma is.”

“Yes, coach,” they said together.

Yaku moved over to the bench and kneeled in front of Tsukishima. “You, okay?”

“I’m fine.” He pressed a shaking hand just under his eye, hoping to push the tears away. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to just scent Kuroo-san like that. I practically claimed him in front of everyone.”

“It’s not that bad.” Yaku patted his knee. “He’ll just smell a bit like strawberries for a few days. Honestly, it’s not the worst smell in the world.”

Tsukishima dropped a hand to his uniform, and his fingers curled tightly around his shorts. “I’m sorry.”

“Quit apologizing,” Yaku said. “Are you going to be okay to play?”

“Yes, I can play.”

“Good, then get your ass on the court before I kick it.”

Just before they both stepped onto the court, Yaku grabbed Tsukishima’s uniform and pulled him down.

“Prove to them why they’re jackasses. Shut out every one of their spikes and show why you’re on the court—not just because of your dynamic or a supposed ‘good fuck’.”

Kei nodded, a bit startled by the sudden demand.

“Good.”

Kuroo didn’t return to the gym for a full five minutes. His hair was damp and didn’t have the same volume as before, but it still looked ridiculously like a rooster. Tsukishima wondered, not for the last time, if he used some kind of mouse or gel that made it stick straight up. He talked to Naoi-sensei for a long while before they had a break to switch him and Inuoka with the referees.

The transition was easy. A few fist bumps and back pats, and then Nekoma was fully back. It wasn’t like they let the game slide either during his absence. As Yaku told him, Tsukishima made sure to give his best blocks against the jeering and now enraged alphas on the other side of the net. They immediately tried to rib Kuroo into provocation again, but it appeared as if he had a better handle on his emotions because he didn’t even acknowledge that the other team existed.

They took the second set, and the game, with ease.

Despite the team’s excitement, Tsukishima couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling settling in his stomach. Kuroo congratulated everyone else on the team except him. The disappointment bit bitter and deep without real reason for why it should exist. As they walked to the locker room to change, Kei realized he didn’t even feel a bit of joy from winning the game. He was numb, and that scared him. He gripped the edges of the locker door where his clothes were and tried to focus on evening out his breathing. No one had noticed anything. No one was talking to him. He was fine.

Tsukishima changed quickly before sitting on the floor in the corner where he could listen to the coaches review their game and talk about their next opponent. He took quiet notes in his head of anything he found important while trying not to focus on what had happened. There was something rising in the pit of his stomach that made the edges of his heart ache, and he didn’t like the implications. He needed to talk to Yamaguchi.

His phone vibrated with an incoming text message, and he checked the notification. A text from Akiteru. He’d seen the match.

Kei! You did amazing. That was really impressive. Mom wants to give you a ride home instead of picking you up from the school. Will your coaches allow it?

The coaches were finishing up the meeting. He missed whatever they said last. He hoped it wasn’t important.

“Alright, time to head back to the school. Gather your things quickly. We’ll leave together.”

Kei quickly stood and pulled Naoi-sensei to the side. “My mom and brother came to watch the match, and they’re wondering if they can just take me home from here instead of having to go to the high school.”

Naoi nodded. “Let me walk you out just to make sure you meet them safely.” He relayed what they were doing to Nekomata before holding the door open and ushering him out.

Tsukishima missed the curious glances his team gave him as they left. They walked in silence through the halls until they neared the atrium where spectators mingled.

“Don’t beat yourself up over today,” Naoi said. “Accidents happen.”

“Oh, um, thank you.” Tsukishima looked away. He hadn’t been thinking about the accidental scenting until that moment. “I’m really sorry about the trouble caused during the game.”

Naoi nodded. “We know. Everything will be okay. It only takes a few days for that kind of scenting to go away.”

“Kei!” Akiteru waved over the crowd to him. His mother stood next to him, blending in with the crowd despite her dirty blond hair.

“Thank you, Naoi-sensei.” Tsukishima bowed politely before hurrying off, barely catching the coach’s quiet,

“No problem.”

“You played so well, Kei!” Fumiko, his mother, said. She gently reached up to pat his cheek. “It was very fun to come and watch you play.”

“Thanks,” he mumbled.

“Let’s head home, and you can tell us all your favorite moments,” Akiteru suggested sensing his brother’s unease. Outside, Kei thought he briefly saw Nekoma heading to the nearby train station, but they were gone in the next instant, and he chocked it up to his imagination.

“What happened?” Akiteru whispered, falling behind his mom to walk next to Kei.

“What do you mean?”

“With the captain and team? We couldn’t tell from up above.”

He turned faintly pink. “The other team was heckling us about my secondary gender mostly, and the team was getting a little frustrated. Kuroo-san was going to go over to the other team, and when I reached to stop him, I accidentally scented him on the neck gland.”

“Oh,” Akiteru’s steps faltered for a brief moment. “That is rather intimate.”

“It was on accident, and everyone knows it. They saw it happen. It’s just awkward—and now he’s not talking to me.”

Akiteru lifted a single eyebrow and looked at him.

Tsukishima made a soft tch sound. “That made me sound like a kid.”

Akiteru laughed and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “It’ll be okay.”

“I don’t know that for sure.” He bit his lip and ignored the soothing hand rubbing his back.

Chapter Text

Kuroo threw himself into the seat by the window and dropped his bag at his feet. They only needed to take the train a few stations to be within walking distance of the high school, but none of them could stand much longer after their game. He leaned his head against the window and sighed.

“Want to talk about it?” Kenma asked as he slid into the seat next to Kuroo with his handheld game system already in his hands.

“Not really.”

“Okay.” Kenma settled in, leaning against him, partially for comfort, and muting the music on his game as he played. The buttons clicking was the only noise that disturbed their small group, for Kai and Yaku had taken the seats directly across from them.

“I’m really annoyed,” Kuroo said as they stepped off the train.

“With?” Yaku asked gently redirecting.

“Mostly myself but also with the other team—” he paused, “and a bit with Tsukishima.”

“Oof,” Kai said. “I didn’t know if you’d admit to that last one.”

“Do you think he really meant it when he said he hears those types of comments in every match he’s played?” Kuroo listed a hand to scratch behind his ear. As he dropped his hand down his neck, he bumped the scent glands there and strawberries flooded his nostrils. He cringed.

Kenma paused his game to watch him for a long moment. “If it makes you uncomfortable, I can scent over it like when we were kids.”

Kuroo placed a protective hand over the gland. “No.” His hand dropped as he paused. “Yes.” His hand jumped to the gland again. “Maybe?”

Kenma shrugged and returned to his game.

“I don’t think Tsukishima is a liar,” Yaku answered Kuroo’s question. “If he says he received those comments then he did. I wouldn’t be surprised either. He’s an unusual omega—he stands out.”

“I’ve also heard unsavory comments hurled at me, but they’re rare. It’s definitely not every game, but when I get a good play against them they’ll try to insinuate things,” Kenma said.

“You never mentioned that before,” Kuroo said.

“Because I knew you’d fly off the handle like you did today.”

“I wonder why I’ve never heard anything like that thrown at me?” Yaku glanced between them.

“You’re never on the front line nearest the net,” Kai answered. “They’re only going to hurl them to the people there where the refs can’t hear and call it a violation.”

“Ah.” Yaku nodded. “That makes sense.”

“They’ve probably just chosen to never hurl them in earshot of the alphas on the team before,” Kenma said. “It was bound to happen eventually.”

“So, why are you annoyed with yourself?” Yaku adjusted his bag strap on his shoulder as they followed the rest of the team from behind.

“I feel like I didn’t handle any of today’s situation correctly. I’m supposed to be the captain, but I lost my cool around the other team and what they were saying. It’s just that they said something about Tsukishima and I, and I couldn’t think straight after that. Then because I was angry, the other thing happened, and I feel—I don’t know how I feel about it. Everything feels confusing regarding that.”

“Makes sense, honestly.” Kai shrugged. “I’m just a beta, but I know I would be really confused by everything as well.”

Kuroo’s fingers brushed the gland again, and the soured strawberries indicating Tsukishima’s fear and worry at the time made his stomach turn uncomfortable knots. He clenched his hand into a fist and tightened his jaw before saying, “I think I might actually take you up on overriding the scenting.”

Yaku stopped walking and stared at him with wide eyes. “You’re going to hurt him if you do that.”

“What am I supposed to do when all I can smell is his anxiety? I can’t live like this Yaku,” he said it louder than he meant to and caught the attention of the rest of the team and coaches. He ran his tongue along his teeth and waved them away before lowering his voice. “I know it’s going to vanish in a few days, but if all I can smell is his anxiety in the match tomorrow when I sweat, I can’t play my best. I was barely holding it together today.”

Yaku reached out and grabbed his arm roughly to pull him back. He hissed, “But if you do this, you’re going to throw off the whole team dynamic. Tsukishima is your soulmate. He may not know it, but that sting of having his scent covered up by someone else is going to ruin him for the game. I hate to admit it, but we can’t win without him.”

“But we can’t win without Kuroo either, and if he’s being set-off by anxious emotions, that’s also going to mess with our play style. We’re in the middle of a lose, lose,” Kai said.

Yaku made a soft tch sound and turned away. “I want you to know I’m fully against it. If Tsukishima plays badly because of you tomorrow, I’m letting you take all the blame, and I’m standing on his side. It was an accident. He was scared—and now you’re going to hurt him because you can’t handle it.”

“Are you saying you’d be annoyed if someone were to scent Lev that way even when the two of you aren’t dating?” Kuroo whispered.

“Obviously,” Yaku spat. “He may get on my nerves, but I’d be upset if he chose someone other than his soulmate.” He bit his lip and looked at Kenma. “Wouldn’t you say the same thing about Yamamoto?”

Kenma shifted uncomfortably on the spot. “Yes, I would. This is different though. Kuro and I are friends—we have been since we were little. It’s not the first time we scented like that.”

Yaku shook his head in disgust and walked away. “I’m not going to be a part of you both hurting those around you. When we lose the game tomorrow, remember whose fault it is.”

Kuroo readjusted the bag strap on his shoulder with a scowl.

“Are you sure you want to, Kuro?” Kenma asked. “It might affect more than just you and Tsukishima.”

“I can’t think like this,” he growled. “I have to be able to think.”

“And you’re not going to regret it?” Kenma asked.

“No.”

“I can’t be here for this,” Kai shook his head and walked away.

“Just do it, Kenma.”

Kenma’s hand shook as he reached for Kuroo’s neck. He redirected his gaze away from his best friend almost as if he also didn’t fully approve. The warm scent of comforting peaches washed over him, and the sinking feeling in his stomach told Kuroo he was a liar.

Chapter Text

Tsukishima knew as soon as he walked into the locker room the next day. They agreed to travel separately because their game wasn’t until the afternoon. He stopped in the doorway and stared with wide eyes, his facial expression morphing from shock to a brief moment of hurt before shutting down entirely.

Kuroo looked away first unable to stomach what he’d done. He couldn’t take it back and asking Tsukishima to scent him properly over Kenma’s was completely out of the question. Tsukishima’s eyes landed on Kenma who sat in the corner playing games and attempting to ignore the world. Kei didn’t sit near Kuroo on the bench like usual as he tied his shoes, but despite the distance, Kuroo could tell he made sure his scent was covered completely. When he looked closer, he saw the thin sheen of a scent blocking patch covering his neck and wrist glands. He wouldn’t be surprised if Tsukishima placed them on the ones on his inner thighs as well.

People didn’t use scent patches often anymore. It was more voluntary and usually reserved for when someone was close to their heat, but this was different and Kuroo knew it. Tsukishima put them on because he thought it was his scent.

The atmosphere was tense as the rest of the team filtered in. Every single person could smell the difference. Even betas had some sense of smell but not nearly as strong as alphas and omegas, and they typically weren’t drawn to their scents. When Yaku arrived, he glared daggers at Kuroo who only nodded resignedly. The omega tried fruitlessly to engage Tsukishima in conversation, having noticed the scent patches right away, but the latter refused to speak more than single syllable words mostly in the “yes” and “no” variety. The last straw was when Yamamoto entered the locker room. He paused like Tsukishima did before his expression went into a hard glare.

“You two finally dating then?” Yamamoto asked in a gruffer than usual tone.

Kuroo never saw Kenma turn off his games so quickly before. He tried to stutter out a denial, but they were interrupted by Naoi and Nekomata entering the room to discuss game strategy. The team tried to listen, but their emotions were all over the place. Naoi could sense it, but he wasn’t sure how to best address it other than giving an invigorating speech encouraging them to work together.

They were unusually silent as they filtered onto the gym floor for warm-ups. Tsukishima and Kenma both checked their phones discreetly when they went off before their bags were set to the side permanently, but the rotten edge to Kenma’s scent made Kuroo know whatever news he received was bad. He couldn’t smell Tsukishima’s mood, but settled on the deepening frown as an indication his text also wasn’t what he wanted.

Kenma tugged Kuroo down to whisper in his ear. “Karasuno lost.”

His eyes flitted up to Tsukishima who hurriedly put his attention elsewhere. That was when Yamamoto drew his attention with a particularly fierce spike set by Teshiro. He was fuming, and the friends had a sneaking suspicion they knew why. Kuroo’s stomach twisted again.

Across the net, Itachiyama were practicing receives and discussing strategy with their coach in between. Kuroo knew he had to focus, but it wasn’t happening naturally like normal. A nasty side effect, he knew.

“Tsukishima, you okay?” Yaku’s voice broke through the reverie of the gym.

“I’m fine, thank you,” was the mumbled reply.

Kuroo noticed the slight redness settling in Tsukishima’s sclera, and something told him the omega was doing everything in his power to not start crying.

When the game finally started, it was a shit show just as Yaku predicted. More of Yamamoto’s spikes and serves went directly into the net than they went over. He had enough shouting matches with Kenma on the court to nearly get him kicked out of the game by the ref. Naoi-sensei had to intervene every time and apologize profusely. He threatened to remove them both from the game to cool off and did so to their detriment during the second set. That chain of events led to Tsukishima jumping a block against Sakusa that severely sprained his finger. Kuroo played through the pain refusing to let anyone know. When the next block Tsukishima tried to run against Sakusa resulted in two of his fingers being painfully jammed to the side, Kenma helped provide a shield to Kuroo as he pushed his fingers back into place.

The players on Itachiyama stared at them in shock, but a quick visual plea through his eyes had them keeping their mouths shut along with anyone watching on the sides. It was lucky that the members of their own team, those who didn’t already know about the soulmate situation, missed the entire exchange. Nekomata dutifully took Tsukishima off the court to see the nurse. He wasn’t going to let Tsukishima’s injury stop him from playing. He would take every bit of pain without a care for himself because deep down, he thought he deserved it.

Nekomata returned to the game without Tsukishima, and they learned he wouldn’t return for the rest of the match which only had a few more points to go until Itachiyama took the game. There wasn’t a lot of hope for them in their state, and even the coaches couldn’t pretend to encourage them to play a stronger game in the final points.

The coaches released them to make their own way home with the next couple of days off practice to recover. In the atrium, Bokuto and Akaashi found Kuroo.

“That was a rough game,” Akaashi said.

“How did you even keep playing with Tsukishima’s injuries? He had to be taken out,” Bokuto asked.

“I’m in a lot of pain right now,” Kuroo said. He shifted his bag and accidentally knocked his injured hand against his scent glands.

Akaashi’s eyes went wide, and even Bokuto looked startled.

“What did you do?” Akaashi hissed.

Kuroo cringed, unable to admit it outright. Glaring, Akaashi freed himself from Bokuto’s side and roughly pushed past him to where the rest of the team was filtering through the building to head home. He watched Akaashi intercept Tsukishima and usher him out of the building. Kuroo thought he saw Tsukishima’s older brother follow them. Bokuto received a text a moment later saying Akaashi was taking Tsukishima to a nearby café and to meet up with him later.

“How come you intimately smell like Kenma?” Bokuto asked lowly.

Kuroo pointed out of the stadium. He had no interest in hashing out all his problems among a crowd. They walked to a small restaurant nearby and took a seat at the bar style counter. They put an order for some entrees before Kuroo decided to speak on the matter.

“I had Kenma override Tsukishima’s accidental scenting yesterday.”

“Wow.” Bokuto played with the chopsticks in front of him. “Care to expand on that?”

Kuroo told him the full story as they ate. When he finished, Bokuto stared at him with a mixture of disbelief and disappointment.

“At least I haven’t been that stupid with Akaashi.”

“Way to make me feel better, Bo.”

“I honestly wouldn’t expect him to talk to you for a long while—at least not anything more than what he deems necessary.”

Kuroo groaned and laid his head next to his empty plate on the counter. “He already barely talks to me.”

Bokuto crossed his arms and leaned against the counter on his arms. “I don’t know what to tell you that you don’t already know.”

“I know, I know.”

Bokuto’s phone vibrated against the counter, and he checked the notification. “Akaashi is very upset with you. You’ll probably get a tirade text later.”

Kuroo’s phone dinged a few minutes later as they sat quietly musing over their water. He checked the text and found a seven-minute voice message from Akaashi. Kuroo cleared his throat. “Your boyfriend has sent me his tirade in the form of a lecture that I get to listen to.”

“Want to listen to it together?” Bokuto asked.

Kuroo agreed until he heard the first line of the message. “Do you know how much you hurt him?” He paused the voice memo.

“I’ll listen to it later,” he said. “In full. I promise. You can tell Akaashi that if he asks.”

Bokuto clapped him on the back and checked his phone for the next message from Akaashi. “I have to go,” he said. “Call me if you need support.”

“Sure.” He glanced at his still injured and stinging hand. “I’m going to stop at the pharmacy on the way home and get some pain meds.”

Chapter Text

Tsukishima sat quietly next to his brother with Akaashi and Yaku directly across from them. His brother bought him a latte and a slice of strawberry shortcake.

“What happened?” Akaashi asked softly.

“It’s nothing.” He took a sip of the coffee to hide the tremble in his lower lip. His hand shook around the handle, unable to create a firm grip due to his fingers being heavily bandaged. Tears pricked the corners of his eyes out of frustration. He knew they were already tinged red.

“I know for a fact that’s not true, but I’ll wait.” Akaashi took a bite of his matcha crepe cake and propped his head up on his opposite hand.

Kei drank half the cup before he had the nerve to say anything about the incident.

“I accidentally scent marked Kuroo-san yesterday, and he had Kenma-san cover it up. It’s really not a big deal.”

Akaashi glanced at Yaku who was sitting sideways in the booth with his arms crossed and staring at the door to the café like he wanted to break it down.

“But that is a big deal, Kei,” Akiteru whispered. “There was no reason for him to do so. It was an accident, and it would’ve worn off in a few days.”

Tsukishima shrugged. “I already figured they were dating quietly behind the scenes. I wouldn’t want my partner to smell like another omega either.”

“They’re not dating,” Yaku said.

Tsukishima scoffed.

“I’ve known them longer than you have, and I know for a fact they aren’t dating.” Yaku turned his furious gaze on Kei who quelled under the look. “Sorry.”

“Maybe they have kept it a secret from you as well,” Akiteru suggested. “It doesn’t make any sense otherwise why he’d override it.”

Yaku opened his mouth to argue, and Akaashi reached across the table to grab Tsukishima. “We’re going to talk privately for a bit, over there.” He pointed to a small table by the window on the other side of the café. It was a small table with only two chairs.

Akiteru and Yaku acquiesced reluctantly, and Akaashi carefully balanced their plates and cups across the room before settling them on the table. He refused to let Tsukishima help because of his injury.

“I want you to be honest with me away from your brother and Yaku,” Akaashi said.

Tsukishima pursed his lips and didn’t say anything for a long while. Akaashi sat in companionable silence sipping his coffee and watching the people walk by outside.

“It’s really stupid the reason why I’m upset.”

“I’m sure it’s not actually stupid,” Akaashi said. “If you’re worried about me telling Kuroo-san or Bokuto-san anything, you don’t need to. I’ve kept secrets from them before. They don’t have any need to know what we discuss.”

“You’re going to think I’m a stupid first-year.” Tsukishima’s hands balled into fists on his jeans.

“Good news, I’m a stupid second-year dating my captain which surely is bound to create a power imbalance in any other scenario. You can’t possibly get worse than that.”

“But you and Bokuto-san are soulmates, it’s different.”

Akaashi hummed and returned to his people watching. He quietly took bites of his crepe cake, and Tsukishima picked at the strawberries on his dessert.

“I hope you know that you aren’t stupid and that the problems are not stupid,” Akaashi said finally. “I often thought the same of myself before. It’s not like I haven’t been attracted to people who aren’t Bokuto-san, but don’t tell him that.”

Tsukishima frowned. “I just—Kuroo-san is a third year.”

“Yes,” Akaashi said.

“You won’t judge me?” he whispered.

“Tsukishima, I’m pretty sure I already know, and I haven’t judged you for it.” Akaashi gently reached forward and slid his fingers alongside the glands on Kei’s wrists. His pheromones were soothing, and omega bonding scenting wasn’t something Tsukishima experienced often since moving to Tokyo.

Tsukishima fumbled for a moment over the word “I” before finally managing to say, “I think I like Kuroo-san.”

“He’s a good person to fall for. I can see why.”

“That’s why I was stupid, though. I mistook his actions, messed up the team dynamic by panicking yesterday, and it forced Kuroo-san and Kenma-san to admit to the team they’re dating. The fact we lost today is all my fault caused by everything that happened yesterday.”

“It wasn’t your fault, and you’re not stupid,” Akaashi repeated.

“It feels like it is,” he paused. “It feels like everything is one big lie.”

“Why do you say that?”

“I thought Kuroo-san was being nice to me in a different way, but I misunderstood. I had thought at the beginning that he and Kenma-san were dating, but everyone assured it wasn’t true. I was getting excited to play volleyball, and I hadn’t really experienced that in a long while—then he introduced me to you and Bokuto-san, and it all felt different. For a brief time, I thought he was jealous of my friend Yamaguchi who plays for Karasuno. I found it a bit funny because it felt nice to be wanted for once. When I had my heat, he called looking for me, and for some reason I thought it meant more. I know I didn’t mean to mark him, and the mark was probably riddled with stress, but walking into the room and realizing that he had Kenma claim him over me, it stung. I couldn’t focus on the game after that.” He stared at his injured fingers. “It’s silly and ridiculous.”

“I don’t think it is at all,” Akaashi said. “If I’m being honest, I thought he liked you a bit, too. He’s never invited anyone else to join our weekend practices before.”

That was when the tears started falling. Akaashi gently wiped them away. He didn’t say anything, not a single negative or positive word, but Tsukishima felt comforted. Somehow, Akaashi knew or understood how he felt, and it didn’t change anything about how he thought of Tsukishima and that was enough for the moment.

“I’m sorry,” he pushed his hands up under his glasses.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for. You can’t help how you feel.”

“I—I don’t think I’ll be coming to extra weekend practices anymore.”

“That’s okay. I understand.” Akaashi took his hand. “How about we make plans for just the two of us. We can go to a café like this one once a month on the weekend or wherever else we want to go.”

“That would be good. I haven’t really had any friends since leaving Sendai.”

“None of your teammates are your friends?”

Tsukishima shrugged. “I always just thought of them as teammates. We don’t really hang out outside of practice.”

“Well,” Akaashi said, “you can consider us friends from today on. We’ll do more things together.”

Tsukishima was quiet for a long time, but he at least ate a few bites of his strawberry shortcake, so Akaashi wasn’t worried until he spoke again.

“Do you think I should quit volleyball?”

“What?” he whispered.

“I’ve thought about it off and on for a long time—the only reason I really stayed was because I was going to go to Karasuno with Yamaguchi, and I wanted to spite my older brother by proving I was better than him, but I don’t really care that much about it anymore. Maybe I would if I was at Karasuno, but I could find another club to join. It’s just that the coaches are bringing in Haiba-san, and Inuoka is not a bad player. I think he’s better than I am, and after these last two days, I’m not sure why the coaches keep putting me out there. I think it’s because I’m tall.”

“Tsukishima—” Akaashi tried to say something, but he was cut-off.

“My height isn’t even desirable in an omega. If I hadn’t been born this way, the incident yesterday never would’ve happened. If I hadn’t been on Nekoma, it wouldn’t have happened either. Whoever my soulmate is—they’re going to hate me. I’ve known that since I was a kid. No one but Yamaguchi ever wanted anything to do with me.” He gestured to his hand. “I mean, I do this kind of crap and my soulmate experiences all of it, too. I already know they don’t care about me because of the injuries they sustain.”

Akaashi’s hand squeezed his tightly to the point it almost hurt. It was the only way to get him to stop talking. “You can’t think like that. It’s a great thing that you’re on Nekoma. They’re lucky to have you. Your soulmate will love you for who you are as well.”

Tsukishima shook his head. The last unfinished bite of his strawberry shortcake taunted him. The world lost so much color and flavor since that morning, and not even his favorite thing could cheer him up. “I want to go home.”

“Okay.” Akaashi nodded and walked with him back to the other table. “The couple of days break after a tournament will help.”

Kei shook his head but didn’t say anything else.

“You ready?” Akiteru asked, sensing the end to the conversation.

“Yeah, I want to go home.”

Akiteru slid out of the booth and wrapped an arm around Kei’s shoulders. “Let’s go, then.” He turned to Yaku and Akaashi. “Thank you,” he said. Then to his brother, “Do I need to take you to the hospital for your fingers?”

“They’ll be fine. They were wrapped by the medical staff at the arena.”

As they exited out the door and away from earshot, Yaku wanted to know what they talked about.

Akaashi clenched his hands into fists. “I think he legitimately likes Kuroo-san. Maybe liked. I don’t think he knows how to feel—there’s some self-esteem issues.”

“I told him not to do it.” Yaku slid out of the booth to join Akaashi in walking toward the door. “I warned him, both of them, what it would do and what it risked.” He held the door open for Akaashi to exit first. “Kenma hurt Yamamoto in the crossfire, too.”

“Fukurōdani will be happy that Nekoma will find themselves out of the running for the Spring National Tournament so easily,” Akaashi said. “Bokuto won’t be happy about the easy win, though.”

“Hey, we still have a few months to fix all our problems,” Yaku argued.

“Are you sure you can do that?” Akaashi pulled out his phone.

“We’ll see. It would suck to have our last year of volleyball ruined because of relationship drama on the team. I never knew soulmates would be such a headache.” Yaku shoved his hands into his pockets.

“I’m going to record a voice message to Kuroo-san, if you’ll excuse me.” Akaashi held up his phone.

“Feel free to twist the knife a few times.”

“Oh, I will.”

Chapter Text

Kuroo sat in his spinning chair at the desk in his room and rotated slowly as he stared at Akaashi’s text. He already finished listening to the message as promised, but there were certain parts that kept echoing in his head.

“The worst part of all of this Kuroo is that I think Tsukishima was falling for you.”

“The things he was saying when he spoke were really concerning, and I don’t think he’s going to be the same person we knew before.”

“I’m kind of concerned that he might try to end everything—at the very least he wanted to quit playing volleyball.”

“He has no plans to ever come to extra practices again because of you.”

“He doesn’t feel like he’s wanted, but you can’t let him know that you know that.”

“I’m really disappointed in you. I thought you were better than this.”

“I don’t know if he’ll ever trust you.”

He dropped his hand off the side, and his phone clattered to the floor. He continued to spin in soft circles from momentum before finally coming to a stop. He couldn’t think, and the smell of peaches invading his nostrils made his stomach sicker than when it had been soured strawberries.

“Ne, otōto, do you want to go out tonight to cheer up?” His older sister, Narumi, opened his door without knocking. He couldn’t bring himself to yell at her like he normally would, and he could tell the lack of reaction threw her off immediately. “Yo, Tetsu, what happened?”

He couldn’t bring himself to formulate words and settled for a half shake of his head.

Narumi bent down in front of him. “Hey, you’ve never been this upset after losing a game before. What happened?”

He continued shaking his head, avoiding her eyes.

“Tetsurō,” she whispered. “Talk to me.”

“Losing was all my fault,” he mumbled, and Narumi strained to hear him. “I was selfish, and I ruined everything.”

“Come here.” Narumi dragged him roughly out of the chair and over to his bed. “You’ll at least be more comfortable.”

“I don’t deserve it,” he said.

“You really gotta explain, kid,” she said.

Kuroo gestured vaguely to his phone. After he unlocked it for her, she pressed play on the message that already wouldn’t leave him alone.

“Oh, Tetsu.” Narumi wrapped him in a hug. “I’m glad I came to visit.”

“I ruined everything.”

“You’re going to be able to fix it, Tetsu. This isn’t permanent.” She brushed her hands over his messy hair. “It won’t fully override a mark from someone who’s not family, but I can dampen Kenma’s claim on you.”

“Please, nee-chan.”

Narumi swiped her wrist several times against his neck, and the peach was almost washed away by the soft rainforest smell. “It is going to be okay, Tetsu. You haven’t ruined everything. It just feels like it.”

“Can we skip to the part where everything is okay again?” he asked.

“Unfortunately, life doesn’t work like that.” Narumi sighed. “Just be patient. Don’t push anything. Step back and be prepared for the fallout. It all takes time.”

“It sucks.”

“I understand. I may not know who my soulmate is, but I still know their pain and how much it hurts not knowing them.”

“I’ll just—I’ll just wait until I’m graduating to tell him, I think.”

“Whatever you feel is right, Tetsu.”

Chapter Text

Tsukishima sat on a bench outside the train station with Akaashi. He invited the other omega last minute, considering how they parted the day before at the café, but he was happy to join Tsukishima despite the short notice.

“When was the train supposed to arrive?” Akaashi asked.

Tsukishima checked his phone. “In about two minutes.”

Akaashi hummed. “What were you thinking of doing today?”

Tsukishima turned pink. “I thought we might do a few touristy things like going to the Sky Tree.”

“Those are always fun to do once in a while.”

A train pulled up to the platform, and there was a rush as people exited and the new riders boarded. Among the crowd, Tsukishima heard the familiar call of, “Tsukki!”

“Yamaguchi.” Tsukishima stood and looked over the crowd until he saw the slightly shorter omega weaving his way through the crowd toward him. “I’m really glad you could visit on such short notice.”

Yamaguchi had a bare minimum idea of what happened. Tsukishima called the night previous just to talk, and his best friend knew almost immediately something was wrong. He stayed on the line until Kei felt like talking about it, and he only offered support for the situation. Yamaguchi immediately asked his mother if he could visit Tsukishima the next day. Akaashi had texted him to check-up on how he was feeling and, on a whim, he invited him to join their outing the next day, and Akaashi agreed. Fukurōdani lost their match at quarterfinals as well, so they wouldn’t have another game until the spring when it was time to decide who would be the Tokyo prefecture representatives for nationals.

Akaashi was honestly a little taken aback when Yamaguchi immediately pulled his best friend into a hug. It was exactly what Tsukishima needed, and he almost cried.

“I’m glad you could come.”

“Of course, Tsukki.” Yamaguchi smiled brightly at him. “You just have to promise that if I’m ever upset over an alpha that you come visit me as well.”

“You couldn’t keep me away from Sendai.” He turned back to the bench. “This is Akaashi Keiji. He plays as a setter for Fukurōdani, and I’ve gone to a few extra practice sessions with him and his mate.”

“Hajimemashite.” Yamaguchi bowed politely. “Tsukki has spoken of you frequently. I’m Yamaguchi Tadashi. I play as a middle blocker for Karasuno.”

“Hajimemashite,” Akaashi said.

“So, what are we doing today?” Yamaguchi asked.

“Tourist traps,” Tsukishima said.

Tadashi’s eyes flicked up and down him as if considering how much he wanted to push his friend’s buttons. He knew Tsukishima didn’t like overly crowded places. He hated being around people. He liked to hang out in parks and listen to his music or at home with a quiet movie or music while playing a game. The fact he suggested something crowded, annoying, and full of long wait times immediately put Yamaguchi on alert for something major being off.

He eventually settled on saying, “As long as we get to eat good food, I’m good with any plans! You definitely have to take me to the place with the best soggy French fries.”

Tsukishima curled his nose at the mention of Yamaguchi’s favorite food, but he unfortunately knew of a location that would fit his tastes.

“You’re buying me a strawberry shortcake,” Kei grumbled.

Yamaguchi grinned at Akaashi, and it easily broke the nerves he felt meeting an unfamiliar person and hanging out with Tsukishima, who he admittedly didn’t know as well as he’d like to.

“Shall we go to Sky Tree first? I think it’ll be the most crowded,” Akaashi suggested.

They had to get on the train line to navigate outside of the main part of Tokyo into Sumida, but they had fun pointing out different sights as the train crossed over and through the cityscape. At the top of the tower, they sat and had a few drinks while looking over the city skyline.

“That’s the Kitajukken River,” Tsukishima said when Yamaguchi pointed at the small body of water crossing just before the tower. “You can see the Jukken Bridge there, and the River feeds between the Sumida and Kyunaka Rivers.”

“Is there something specific you want to see while you’re here, Yamaguchi-san?” Akaashi asked.

“Maybe some of the shrines? I want to pray for good luck for Karasuno to make it to nationals. Hinata and Kageyama got into a fight, so things are tense on the team right now,” Yamaguchi said. “It just happened yesterday, and we haven’t had practice yet, but the group chat is terse.”

Tsukishima hummed thinking of the mess his own team was in. Nekoma could certainly do with at least one prayer—or a few thousand. He was still torn on whether he should care or not about the team as some part of him desperately wanted to leave it all behind.

“The Kameido Tenjin and Katori Shrines are somewhat nearby here. Oh, and the Koto Tenso Jinja Shrine. We may have to walk a bit from the train line.” Akaashi was examining a map and showed them the two locations. “It looks like there’s a Kameido station, and it’s only about a ten-minute walk or so to Kameido Tenjin.”

“Sounds great.” Yamaguchi made to stand then his mouth formed a comical O shape. “Ah! We should take a commemorative photo. I can send it to my team’s group chat to try and break some of the tension, maybe?”

The other two agreed, and they were quickly wrangled into a group selfie with the expansive skyline shimmering under the bright morning sun. Yamaguchi texted it to them in a new group chat before sending it to his team. Akaashi quietly stepped back from them to save the photo to his phone before forwarding it to Bokuto.

We’re all good. Heading to the Kameido Tenjin Shrine. Praying for Fukurōdani’s victory!

He put his phone back in his pocket and ignored the return text in favor of picking up the conversation about where they should go for food. Tsukishima was convinced they should return back to the Nerima ward for food, but Akaashi said they should taste the flavors of Akihabara or Shinjuku as a special treat. It ultimately came down to Yamaguchi to decide, and he found a compromise by eating lunch in Akihabara and dinner in Nerima as he intended to stay the night at Tsukishima’s before going back home in the morning.

Trying to explore restaurants in a part of their prefecture that they didn’t go to much was quite difficult. Zooming in on the map to hopefully find the less touristy places, they managed to find a place called Okonomiyaki Carp in Chiyoda a little south of Akihabara.

When they were seated and watching their food cook, Yamaguchi insisted on more pictures, and his companions reluctantly agreed. For the first time that day, Tsukishima had a soft smile on his face. Yamaguchi managed to capture it in the photo, but he didn’t say anything, or Tsukishima would make him retake it. He quietly sent it to the group chat where Akaashi dutifully forwarded it to Bokuto to keep him updated.

He’s smiling.

Akaashi kept his phone under the table as he responded.

For the first time today.

Bokuto’s next text was accompanied by a picture of Kuroo lying on the floor face down.

Well, he was cheering up for a brief moment with the photos until he saw that message.

Akaashi snorted, and the other two looked at him. He smiled sheepishly, “I’m just texting Bokuto-san. He wanted me to check-in with where we’re at in case anything happened.”

“So, anything special you think we should do for the afternoon?” Yamaguchi asked.

Tsukishima pursed his lips. “I’m not sure. We could maybe go to the Shinjuku Gyoen?”

Yamaguchi pulled out his phone and searched for nearby activities. It only took him a moment to find one that would surely brighten his best friend’s mood. It wasn’t his favorite thing in the world, but they’d already done things outside of Tsukishima’s comfort zone, and Yamaguchi had come to Tokyo to cheer him up not entertain himself.

“The Tokyo National Museum would be a lot of fun,” he said. “We should go there.”

“Are you sure?” Tsukishima asked. “You’ve never really liked museums.”

“This one looks way better than the ones in Miyagi! Look at the website, they have a rotating exhibition with different daily events. The ones that are scheduled for today look like a lot of fun to interact with.”

“Are you okay with that Akaashi-san?” Tsukishima asked.

Akaashi wasn’t fond of museums. However, the stare down that Yamaguchi gave him made him agree without voicing his discontent. As they rode the train to their next location, he received a private text from Yamaguchi explaining why they needed to go to the museum, and he was happy to join the journey. He updated Bokuto on where they planned to go and why, and Bokuto had several questions about why Tsukishima liked such boring activities. Apparently Kuroo was now upset with Bokuto for insulting his soulmate’s interests even though Kuroo also typically didn’t like museums.

However, Akaashi quickly saw there was another side to Tsukishima when he was surrounded by history. The way he smiled, actually smiled, and investigated every piece as if committing it to memory was something else. He snuck as many photos as he could, sending them in a chain to Bokuto with little sly comments. When the next text from Bokuto came through, he could tell that Kuroo had fully commandeered his boyfriend’s phone probably to stare at every photo in detail and study him just as much as the omega was studying the displays. Akaashi could tell why Yamaguchi had insisted on the museum. It was the first time the omega had probably been truly happy in a long while.

“Tsukishima-kun,” Akaashi said, pressing record on a video with his phone. “You really like museums, huh?”

Kei turned a faint shade of pink. “I want to work in a museum one day. I’ve always really liked history.”

“Do you have a favorite museum?”

His cheeks turned a darker shade before all color drained from his face. “Um—”

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” His thumb hovered over the record button. He could stop it at any moment—delete the video and never send it to Kuroo like he planned. Some things were better left a secret.

Tsukishima turned away and curled his head down between his shoulders. Akaashi lowered the phone to face the floor.

“The Fukui Prefectural Dinosaur Museum,” he said in almost a whisper.

Akaashi forgot he was recording. “Oh?”

He curled in on himself more. “My parents took me for my sixth birthday because I really like dinosaurs. It was my last birthday with my dad alive.”

Akaashi extended a hand and gently patted his back. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have pried.”

“It’s fine. It’s nice that someone other than Yamaguchi knows,” Tsukishima whispered.

“I’m glad you could trust me.” He glanced at his phone and cringed. He quickly stopped the recording, but his finger hovered over the delete button. He wouldn’t send it to anyone, but he also couldn’t bring himself to fully get rid of it. “Let’s make our way to the Heiseikan exhibit. It looks fascinating.”

He tucked his phone into his pocket, and there it remained for the rest of their trip. He knew he received a few texts from the vibrating in his pocket, but Akaashi ignored them until he was on the train home after enjoying a dessert at a café Tsukishima liked. It was evident he really liked strawberry shortcake, and Akaashi would definitely make a note of that for Kuroo. One of the last texts from Kuroo before Bokuto took his phone back hung at the bottom of the screen.

Thank you for taking care of him today.

A small smile pulled at the corner of his lip.

Tell Kuroo I didn’t do anything. I simply agreed to accompany him and his friend.

He’s still very grateful.

You on your way home?

Yes. Meet me at the train station?

Obviously.

Despite their faults, Akaashi really did love Bokuto.

Chapter Text

Yamaguchi lay on Tsukishima’s bed staring at the ceiling in comfortable silence. It had been a while since they occupied each other’s nests even before Tsukishima’s family moved. There was something comforting about it that made them feel safe.

“I know it’s not nearly as strong of a scenting as it would be if you were an alpha, but do you think you could scent me like we did when we were kids?” Tsukishima whispered.

“The really intimate one? It won’t do anything to deter alphas,” Yamaguchi said.

“I know.” Tsukishima rolled over to face him. “I just want to smell like someone else for a few days.”

Yamaguchi blinked hesitantly before agreeing. When Tsukishima removed the scent patches, he was overwhelmed by rotten strawberries. Tadashi barely bit back his gasp at the overwhelming sadness and depression that had overtaken Tsukishima. His distress and pain was nearly crippling, and Yamauchi couldn’t figure out how he managed to walk around with them all day while in that state even if it was hidden by patches. He placed a hand against Tsukishima’s neck and gently rubbed, spreading as much calming cinnamon and sugar smell as he could. He didn’t want to taint Tsukishima with more worry.

He had to shift awkwardly to rub their necks together, but the way Tsukishima’s body released tension made it worth it.

“I’m sorry,” Tsukishima whispered.

“What for?” Yamaguchi asked.

“Making you smell like me.”

“Don’t worry about that.” Yamaguchi shifted up the bed to cradle Tsukishima’s head against this chest. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“I don’t even know why I feel like this,” he admitted. “It makes no sense. Sure, I think I was developing some feelings for him, but I knew from the beginning that he was with Kenma-san. It’s obvious from the way they interact with each other. I think I fooled myself into thinking otherwise.”

“That happens.” Yamaguchi stroked his short hair. “I’ve been jealous a lot of all the soulmate pairs on my team. I want someone as well like them, and it’s frustrating to feel left out.”

“I think I realized that I’m just like everyone else when I don’t want to be.”

“What do you mean?”

“A first year gaining feelings for a third year—it screams cliché.”

“And you somehow consider yourself above that.”

He couldn’t form a satisfactory response and stayed quiet instead.

“You’re fifteen like me. It’s not a crime to be a little stupid and do things we know we aren’t supposed to do.”

“I don’t like feeling that way.”

“Ah, the true crux of the problem.” Yamaguchi laughed, and Tsukishima’s glasses were pressed uncomfortably against his face.

He swatted at Yamaguchi to back-up, so he could remove them. Everything turned fuzzy, but he could still make out important shapes. He set them gently on the nightstand having to lean over his friend to do so.

Yamaguchi played with the blankets as they curled under the quilt together. “Are you wanting to date someone?”

“I’ve never thought about it,” Tsukishima said.

“I have.” Yamaguchi didn’t say anything else for a few minutes. “I think I only want to date my soulmate when I find them. That’s what I decided. I think you need to answer that question for yourself as well because I think it will help you sort out your feelings regarding what happened with Kuroo-san. I want to say, I think it’s okay that you want to date people other than your soulmate. There’s no rule or law governing that. You have to make the decision that works for you.”

“I don’t know if I ever really pictured what meeting my soulmate would be like other than asking them what they were thinking with pinching me for breaking my arm.”

“You have clear priorities. That’s good,” Yamaguchi mumbled as he started to drift to sleep against the pillow.

“Thank you for noticing.”

Tsukishima couldn’t get to sleep for a while longer, laying there thinking about all that happened. In the end, he settled on doing his best to pretend the incident with Kuroo never existed. He wouldn’t return to doing everything like previously, as he already told Akaashi he had no intention of attending extra practices again. He’d have to wear scent patches until he managed to stop feeling so awful about the entire thing, but he could pretend. He could draw walls and boundaries where they needed to exist.

There was no point in being close with Kuroo. He would take his advice regarding volleyball and put in effort where necessary, but he wasn’t going to kill himself over a sport he no longer felt much attachment to. It was just a game, and volleyball was just a club—one he needed to graduate. That’s all it had to be. He didn’t need close friends on the team, although Tsukishima knew Yaku would never let him ignore him without a fight. He’d at least have something of a semblance of a friend in the libero. That was all he needed.

One day, maybe in college, he would meet his soulmate and everything would be okay. High school and his feelings for Kuroo would be a blink in the past. He’d laugh at those memories someday, wondering how he could be such a stupid kid. That was enough.

Chapter Text

“So, we’ll be staying at facilities hosted by Fukurōdani, but of course we’re helping to pay for some of the expenses. Shinzen, Ubugawa, and Karasuno have all made plans to join us. As all of you know, Karasuno is a new addition. I invited them personally after playing with them in Miyagi. They’re a good team, and I’d like to see our schools become rivals like in the past again,” Nekomata announced at the end of practice one day. “Haiba Lev will also be officially joining our first string for the upcoming training camps. We’d like to work on training him to be a middle blocker for next year, and Inuoka will move to wing spiker to replace Kai who will graduate at the end of the season.”

Tsukishima’s heart had leapt into his throat at the thought of being able to see Yamaguchi for a longer period of time and play volleyball together again, but it dropped at the reminder of Haiba joining the first string and the third years’ inevitable graduation. His stomach turned at the thought of Haiba’s licorice smell and the two years he would have to endure with it—if Haiba didn’t replace him and send him to second string as he expected to happen. When pain and annoyance ripped a familiar trail across his heart, Tsukishima was glad he was still opting to wear scent patches to practice. His team wouldn’t be able to function with him as a distraction, and some days he wondered how he was even still there.

Tsukishima felt a pair of eyes on him, but he brushed off the feeling and stayed focused on Nekomata.

“Of course, if any of you are failing your classes, you’ll have to be taking supplementary exams during that time. The training facilities we plan to use with Fukurōdani aren’t far away, but we’d still prefer to not have anyone show up late if it can be avoided. Make sure you study hard over the next few weeks.”

“Yes, coach,” the team said.

The main problem the team faced turned out to not be their grades. Not a single one of them dropped grade ranks during the following weeks, but their teamwork was incredibly patchy. Tsukishima struggled the most to work with any of the team members. He could feel the coaches whispering behind his back, and the shadow of Haiba Lev on second string loomed behind him. The alpha haunted Tsukishima’s nightmares every night sending his stress through the roof. His reliance on scent patches also pulled down his sanity slowly, and all he could picture was his dismissal from the team—that he would become like Akiteru on the sidelines lying to his family. He knew he wasn’t supposed to wear scent patches as much as he was, but he couldn’t risk anyone getting a hint of how he felt.

Despite the scent blockers in the school, he still wore the patches for walking to school and outside to keep anyone from knowing what happened. All his allowance went toward the patches. His mom had yet to comment on their presence, but he saw Yaku eye them up every day in the changing room. Tsukishima didn’t trust himself to keep everything under control—and he knew his scent was still rotten strawberries of disappointment. It would mess with the entire team and reveal more about himself than he felt comfortable with any of them knowing.

Tsukishima could feel his pain and frustration regarding Lev swelling in his gut. So, of course it had to be on a day where his suppressed emotions were running high, and his scent patches didn’t want to stick that Lev was in the changing room when Tsukishima arrived. It was like having the nail in the coffin driven home. He changed quietly and quickly with a growing buzzing in his ears.

It was during that first practice with Lev, just five days before the training camps that Tsukishima crumbled.

It started with him rolling his ankle after landing wrong from a block. He didn’t mention the pain, just played through it. Kuroo’s eyes kept trailing to him as if he could sense his injury, but he didn’t change his neutral expression. As he dropped to receive the ball after his serve, his ankle decided to give out again. The whiplike force with which Lev hit the ball from the other side of the net barreled directly into his face and shattered his glasses. The frame broke clean in two at the nose piece before falling to the floor. He fell, smashing his elbow painfully onto the hardwood flooring in a poor attempt to catch himself. It had been so long since he took a volleyball to the face that the pain spread like new, and his nose throbbed before blood trickled to his upper lip.

He faintly heard people calling his name, but there was a ringing in his ears that drowned out all noise. Blurry shapes swam in his vision, and he thought he could faintly make out Naoi-sensei holding a paper towel to his nose to stopper the flow. Tsukishima raised his arm to wipe away some of the sweat pooling on his face, and his shirt caught against the edge of the scent patch pulling it free.

Rotting strawberries filled the gym within seconds, his distress and rejection on full display for everyone. Startled, his fingers found the patch before slamming it back over the gland and holding it there. He brought his other hand up to commandeer the towel for his nosebleed.

“I’m sorry.” His apology was muffled and had a strong nasal quality.

Yaku’s warm hands wrapped around him in the next second, and warm mango enveloped his senses attempting to drown out the smell of his pheromones. “Come here. We’ll get you cleaned up.”

“I can’t see anything,” he said.

“I’ve got you. Just trust me,” Yaku whispered. “It’s going to be okay.”

“It’s not okay,” Tsukishima whispered as he felt them step down the stairs from the gem. “It’s not.”

Yaku rubbed his back and moved him toward the water fountain.

Back in the gym, Kuroo held a towel to his bleeding nose while it felt like a cavity had opened in his chest. Everyone on the team including the coaches stared at him with full realization of what had happened and what he’d done. There was no one on the team at that point who didn’t know that Tsukishima was his soulmate other than Tsukishima himself.

Surprisingly, Yamamoto looked the angriest of all their team. “What the hell?” he asked.

“What?” Kuroo snapped.

“You—you—” he spluttered. “I never would’ve expected this of you.”

“Just spit it out.” Anger grew in Kuroo’s body in place of any feeling he had in his heart previously. It felt like the distress and sadness had stuck to the inside of his lungs. He could taste it with every breath, and it pushed him lower. It was only from desperate practice over the last few weeks that his scent only gave away the anger boiling under his skin.

“You knew he is your soulmate. You had to. You weren’t surprised when you felt the pain in your face. You weren’t surprised when it started bleeding, you were already heading for a towel. You knew all of it, and you still—you still started dating someone else.” He held up a finger, pointing accusingly at his captain.

“I’m not dating Kenma.” Kuroo crossed his arms to hide his clenched fists.

“He scented you,” Yamamoto said. “After Tsukishima accidentally did, you came back the next day smelling like Kenma.”

“Yes, I had Kenma override it.” His jaw clenched, and he looked away. “It was stupid. I know it was.”

“You hurt him. On purpose. You rejected him.” Yamamoto took a surprised step back and his hand fell to his side. “And he doesn’t even know why. He has no idea why he smells like that.”

There was a tinkling sound that distracted them as Shibayama swept up the broken pieces of Tsukishima’s glasses. “Sorry!”

Nekomata sighed loud enough to capture everyone’s attention. “Well, today has been very eventful. Clearly, we are having some relationship issues. I know we can’t keep these kinds of emotions off the court, but we have to try. Knowing that any injury Kuroo sustains, Tsukishima will have and vice versa is helpful for us as we plan the team. If there are any other soulmate pairs on the team, the coaches would like to know just so we can plan better for the future. Please don’t interfere with each other’s relationships off the court as it will only cause more tension. Do not add relationship issues to the team’s disfunction no matter if you think you are doing the right thing or not. Everyone here deserves the chance to handle their relationships in the way they think is best even if we may not agree. Remember that volleyball is as a sport and what your expectations are for playing. Members of the team who can’t follow the basic rules will be removed.”

“Yes, coach,” they said.

“Alright, let’s return to practice. Someone grab the dust mop and give the court a good once over to make sure there’s no more glass,” Nekomata said. “Naoi-sensei, I’d appreciate it if you would go check on Tsukishima and Yaku.”

He nodded and hurried out of the gym doors.

“Kuroo, get your nose cleaned up and get back on the court.”

“Yes sir.” As he passed by Nekomata to step into the locker room area, he paused and said, “Tsukishima rolled his ankle pretty badly when he landed earlier.”

Nekomata sighed again. “It’s impressive he kept playing. Are you in much pain?”

“Quite a bit, but I’ll play through it like before.”

“Don’t be too reckless.”

“And coach?” He shuffled awkwardly between his feet.

“Yes?”

“The other soulmate pairs on the team—I think they’ll feel too awkward to admit it. Kenma’s soulmate is Yamamoto and Yaku’s is Lev.”

Nekomata stared up at him for a long while without saying anything. Eventually, he shook his head and pursed his lips. “I thought you were smarter than this, Kuroo.”

“I thought I was, too, sir.” He swallowed uncomfortably around a blockage in his throat before finally stepping away to clean up his bloody nose.

Tsukishima was sitting on the ground next to the water faucets when he stepped out of the gym. He had his arms wrapped around his legs, and he was staring at the ground.

“Did you bring my phone?” he asked.

Kuroo stopped. He wasn’t sure what to say.

“Yaku-san?”

Sudden footsteps from the opposite direction. “Here.” Yaku held out the phone. “Unlock it then I’ll find your mom’s number and dial it for you.”

Yaku met Kuroo’s gaze long enough for him to mouth, “What’s wrong?”

As Yaku pulled up the phone app, he returned the answer, “He can’t see.”

Shibayama appeared around the corner suddenly. “Ah, Tsukishima-san,” he said, glancing at Kuroo. The captain shook his head, and the libero stayed dutifully quiet. “I swept up the pieces of your glasses. Is there anything you wanted to try and save?”

“I’ll probably need the frames.”

Yaku handed Tsukishima the ringing phone before nodding to Kuroo and timing their steps to muffle the fact he was there. Kuroo turned on the water and washed his face quickly. As Tsukishima spoke on the phone, he uncomfortably picked at the edges of the scent blockers and pulled them away. Kuroo nearly choked as Tsukishima’s pheromones reared their head again.

Yaku glared at him and mouthed, “You did this. Suffer.”

“Hi Mom,” Tsukishima said. “I broke my glasses during practice. Can you come pick me up?” He waited for a response. “I think they’re destroyed.”

“They are,” Shibayama confirmed.

“Yes, I’ll need a new pair. Sorry, Mom.” He pulled his legs tighter to his chest. “I didn’t mean to—I received the ball wrong and it hit my face.” More speaking from the other end of the line. “Bloody nose. Probably some bruising over the next few days. He hit it pretty hard.” Tsukishima scowled at whatever his mother said. “He was an alpha, but I don’t see how that’s relevant—” His face scrunched in anger. “It’s not because I’m an omega, Mom.” The wind shifted, and he caught the sudden scent of juniper on the wind, and his whole body stiffened. He raised his head just slightly to see the blurry form of Kuroo standing by what he assumed was the faucet structure. Even without glasses, Kuroo’s hair was unmistakable. “We can talk about it later, Mom. I just need someone to pick me up.” A moment later he sighed, said goodbye, and set his phone to the side.

Kuroo folded his arms knowing he’d been found out and asked, “How many days do you think you’ll be out without glasses?”

“Don’t know,” Tsukishima mumbled. “I hope to be back for the training camp.”

“I’ll let the coaches know.” Kuroo turned on his heel and walked away despite not wanting to. He wanted to sit down on the curb next to Tsukishima and comfort him, but he had no right to—not after all he’d done.

He had to bite his tongue a moment later to keep from reacting when he heard Tsukishima burst into tears, and the smell of his distress increased. He couldn’t turn back. If he had thought just a few short weeks ago that smelling like Tsukishima’s fear through a few games was bad, it was nothing like what he felt then. He wished he could go back in time and smack himself before he ever got the stupid idea to have Kenma override his soulmate.

Chapter Text

“You’re not supposed to receive the ball to the face,” Akiteru said, trying to the lighten the mood as he guided Tsukishima across the school campus.

“I’d really prefer if you didn’t talk to me right now,” Kei fired back. “I don’t need further judgment. Especially from you.”

Akiteru pursed his lips. He could smell his younger brother’s true emotions for the first time in weeks, and the thought of something hurting him that much made him angry. He knew the distress of his omega brother bothered him more than if he had been a fellow alpha. It was like something deeper than a brotherly bond reared its head and wanted retribution.

“Mom’s already called the doctor about your glasses and put in an order, but I’m taking you to the hospital as well,” Akiteru said. “You’re not doing okay, and I think an official review would help you as well as us. Mom’s more stressed than she looks. She’s noticed your excessive reliance on scent patches, so don’t think you’ve fooled her.”

Kei didn’t say anything in response, so Akiteru continued.

“She feels bad about you wasting your allowance on that, but she also can’t save up any money to pay you back for them. I wish you could be more honest with us in the future about what happened.”

“I don’t know why I’m still like this,” he mumbled. “It doesn’t make any sense to me.”

“That’s why we need to speak to a doctor.” He wrapped an arm through Tsukishima’s. “Since you can’t see, use me as your guide.”

“You’re going to shove me in a puddle first chance you get,” Tsukishima said.

“It hasn’t rained in at least a week. At the very least, I’m going to send you careening into a tree.”

They squabbled for most of the walk to the hospital over insignificant things. Eventually, they were settled into a room to wait. The brothers were quiet for the duration. Tsukishima squinted to steady the blurry shapes and make out elements of the room, but he could tell little more than his own intuition told him about a doctor’s office.

“I hear you’re here to identify the source of a sour smell in an omega.”

“Yes, sensei,” Akiteru said. “My younger brother. It’s been ongoing for around a month now.”

“Do you mind if I swab your scent glands?” the doctor asked.

Kei hesitantly shook his head.

The doctor removed a swab pad from a clean package and gently swiped his gland. “We’ll run a test, but I would say that purely based on smell you’ve experienced a soulmate rejection.”

Tsukishima blinked rapidly. “I don’t know who my soulmate is.”

“That’s not needed to experience a rejection. They come from a variety of sources, and it doesn’t need to be a blatant rejection to your face after a confession,” the doctor said. “Most common soulmate rejections are actually a soulmate overriding the scenting of their soulmate with someone else or the selection of a chosen mate.”

“How long does a rejection typically take to fade?” Akiteru asked.

“Most patients say it lingers for three months which means you’re most likely close to halfway through. Of course, in the event that your soulmate is older than you by enough years to legally be able to engage in mating practices, then the case is a little different. Not in terms of how long it takes to wear off, but if they’ve chosen a mate and marked them, it’ll take about a year, three to four heat cycles, before the soulmate bond breaks. You’ll still only have a soured scent for the expected three months, but your heats will be rougher and longer during that year period. At the end of the it, you won’t feel any of their pain anymore and vice versa.” The doctor collected another sample of his scent glands. “I can get you a pamphlet on the different types of rejections you can read. Our tests are unable to determine what type of rejection you experienced, but you’ll get some clues based on how you’re feeling. The pamphlet comes with a quiz you can take that gives a guess as to the rejection type, but results are inconclusive and sometimes wrong or unconfirmed.”

“It’s possible I feel this way because my soulmate chose someone else?” Tsukishima asked.

“That is the usual reason why there is a rejection. Sometimes an alpha will reject their soulmate without realizing what they’re doing. It all depends on who it is and how close their proximity is to you. Since you said you don’t know who your soulmate is, the best we can do is speculate.” He held up to the two sample baggies. “I’ll be back shortly with some results and that pamphlet.”

“I’m so sorry, Kei.” Akiteru pulled him into a hug. “You must be having a really hard time—and all without knowing who caused it.”

“Now I have another grudge to hold against my soulmate.” His voice was muffled tucked into his brother’s shoulder. “I wish I could see.”

“You still have your game glasses, right?”

“Yes, but I kind of want the excuse of not being able to go to school right now.”

Akiteru sighed. “You can have that.”

Tsukishima’s phone vibrated in his pocket, but he ignored it as he wouldn’t be able to read the message anyway.

The doctor reappeared after about fifteen minutes with conclusive results on his paper and a pamphlet. It was definitely soulmate rejection symptoms, so they were prescribing medical grade scent blockers for the duration of the rejection period—they were stronger than the generic store brand, and Tsukishima wouldn’t have to work so hard to hide his scent. He could feel any emotion he wanted, and no one would be the wiser (if he kept it off his face). There was something freeing about being told that. Tsukishima wanted to cry.

“Honestly, the prescription ones are a little strong, they’ll dull your other senses as well. You won’t be able to smell people around you like you’re used to right now,” the doctor said.

“Fine by me,” Tsukishima said. With Lev’s licorice, Yaku’s worried mango, Yamamoto’s frustrated motor oil, the annoying juniper of the captain that wouldn’t leave him alone, and Kenma’s subtle hurt peach—it would be a relief to not smell them as much as before.

“Just wanted to make sure I warned you. Some people don’t like their senses dulled.” The doctor handed him the pamphlet. “Look over that and just think how you only have a couple months left before you start to heal again.”

“Thank you,” he said clutching the brochure he couldn’t read. When he got home, he would put on his sports glasses to look it over and get his homework done. Despite that Akiteru agreed with him about taking a few days off, he didn’t plan on falling behind. He still wanted to attend the training camp.

“It’ll take three days for your new glasses to arrive,” his mother said as they walked through the front door of their house. “Will you be okay until then?”

Tsukishima nodded. “I’m not going to school or practice until I get them.”

“Okay, I’ll call the school and let them know you’ll be absent.”

“I’ll let my coach know,” Tsukishima said. He toed his way carefully to the stairs, feeling for where he needed to lift his feet to keep from falling.

“How?” Fumiko asked her oldest son.

“Sport’s glasses. He doesn’t want to wear them to school.”

“Ah,” she sighed. “How is Kei doing?”

“Doctor says it’s a soulmate rejection—there could be a number of causes, but whoever it is hurt him. The hurt lingers for about three months, so there’s still a while to go.” He explained how they picked up the new scent patches for him to use and what the potential causes could be.

At the very least, Fumiko was glad to have a diagnosis she could work with, and the time frame for when he should start to feel more normal was helpful. It wasn’t until dinner that they saw Kei again when he trudged down the stairs reluctantly wearing the glasses he used for official games only. He held the pamphlet in his hand.

“What is it?” Akiteru asked as he slid a bowl in front of his younger brother.

“I did the questionnaire, but it wasn’t really conclusive of what happened.” He pursed his lips. “The most likely indicator is that my soulmate might’ve chosen a mate over waiting for me. It’s the only one that makes sense.”

“That just means you also get to choose someone!”

“And break up another soulmate couple.” He played with the food in front of him. “I’ll just live alone—it’s probably better that way.”

Akiteru and his mother shared a startled look.

“Maybe we should get you into some counseling,” his mother said. “Do you think that would help?”

“What’s the point of it?” he asked. “I’ll be fine. I’m just going to focus on my schoolwork.”

“Okay,” Fumiko softly patted his hand. “Let me know if anything changes.”

“Okay,” he said without fighting further and trying to eat something even if he didn’t feel like it.

“Are you done with the pamphlet?” Akiteru asked. When Kei gave him an affirmative, he passed the brochure to his mother who wanted to look it over.

“Thank you for dinner,” Kei said after eating around half of what they put on his plate. He slipped out of the dining room and back up the stairs to his bedroom where he closed the door and collapsed onto the bed.

His phone vibrated, reminding him of the earlier message at the hospital. He pulled his phone free from his pocket and saw Yaku’s and Yamaguchi’s names in the notifications. He ignored Yaku’s line of questions for Yamaguchi’s more casual, “How was practice today?” accidentally sent to the group chat with Akaashi. He debated moving to his private chat with Yamaguchi, but he decided he didn’t care if Akaashi also knew.

Lev hit a volleyball into my face and broke my glasses, so I won’t be at practice for a few days until I get a new pair.

My brother ended up taking me to the hospital because of my still sour scent—and I was diagnosed with soulmate rejection syndrome.

He moved to a chat with Naoi-sensei to update him on his issues. He trusted the coach to keep his information secret, although he knew Naoi would need to tell Nekomata.

Sensei, I won’t be at practice for a few days until my new glasses come in. My brother also took me to the hospital regarding my scent, and I was diagnosed with soulmate rejection syndrome. I’ve been prescribed some medical grade scent patches, so I shouldn’t be a bother to anyone again until it wears off. The doctor says it could take up to another two months.

Yamaguchi responded to his text, and he flipped back.

What does that even mean?

He rehashed the diagnosis for their benefit, but it didn’t show Akaashi read any of the messages.

Wow, I didn’t even know that could happen.

I didn’t either.

It really sucks.

I’m sorry you have to deal with this.

Akaashi’s first words on the thread. Somehow, he felt like the pity was more genuine and understanding as if he had information others didn’t about his situation. It was strange to feel that way, but he felt the same when they visited the museum—he sensed something in Akaashi’s demeanor that told him he understood. It unnerved Tsukishima that someone else could somehow know more about a situation that he was involved in than himself.

He texted his friends off and on for the rest of the night before falling asleep casually sometime after midnight.

Chapter Text

Kuroo stared at the text from Akaashi on his phone as he sat in the practice room waiting for everyone to arrive.

You don’t even know how badly you’ve fucked up, and I’m not sure you ever will. I’m not going to drag you down anymore, but I wanted you to have an idea. I know what’s going on, but it’s not my place to say anything more.

Kuroo spun his phone between his fingers as he waited. He held some minor conversations with the other team members as they changed, but he stayed on the bench waiting—hoping. He checked the time on his phone. One minute until practice started. He would be in trouble with the coaches if he wasn’t in the gym at that time. Tsukishima wasn’t coming.

The coaches called roll, noticeable skipping Tsukishima’s name a few moments after Kuroo arrived.

“Good, everyone is here,” Naoi said.

“Coach, what about Tsukishima-san?” Kenma asked.

“Oh, he texted me yesterday saying he wouldn’t be here until his new glasses come in. That was another matter of business I wanted to take care of. Is anyone here in Tsukishima’s class?” Naoi placed his clipboard under his arm and tucked the pin into his shirt pocket.

The first years all shook their heads.

Naoi sighed. “Does anyone know any students in his class?”

Shibayama raised his hand. He had a round-about connection through a friend in the theatre club who knew someone in Tsukishima’s class. He was apparently in the top class for academically inclined students like Kuroo and Yaku.

“Think you can get his assignments for him for the next couple of days?”

Shibayama nodded.

“Great, we have that sorted. Let’s get to practice,” Naoi said. He immediately set them about practicing receives.

Tsukishima was finishing tying his shoelaces in the club room four days later when Kuroo entered, throwing his bag roughly across the room before realizing who was inside. He stared wide-eyed at the omega who was startled by the bag that narrowly missed him moments before.

“I’m sorry,” Kuroo said. “I didn’t realize anyone was in here yet.”

“Just glad I’m not your backpack.” Tsukishima turned his attention back to his laces, pulling them tight until the pain dug a little into the top of his foot. He liked to feel the presence of his shoes, otherwise he worried about them slipping off.

He heard Kuroo tentatively sniff the air, but Tsukishima knew he wouldn’t smell a thing with the medical grade scent patches. He stood and nervously tugged at his fingers as he tried to produce something to say that would direct the captain’s attention away from his condition.

“Rough day?” he asked.

“Huh?” Kuroo snapped out of his trance.

Tsukishima pointed to the bag.

“Oh, that.” His hand jumped to the back of his neck and rubbed at the short hair there. “I missed getting an important assignment in on time because of club duties, and I got into a bit of an argument with the teacher about it. I’m normally on top of everything, but with all that’s happened recently, it slipped through the cracks without me noticing.”

Tsukishima didn’t know what to say, so he quickly turned to his locker space and straightened a few of his items under the guise of looking for something. He shuffled the items in his bag hoping for something semi-important to stand out.

“So, you got new glasses,” Kuroo said.

“Yeah. Hopefully, I don’t break this pair, too.”

Kuroo picked up his bag and gently set it in his locker. “Is there anything else I should know about as captain?”

For a moment, Tsukishima considered telling him what he learned about his condition, but he decided not to. “The coaches know anything important.”

“I see.”

“I also have medical grade patches, so the team shouldn’t have to worry about anything. I’m sorry I couldn’t manage it on my own.” He wasn’t quite sure why he said anything about the patches, but he watched the slight stiffening of Kuroo’s shoulders with interest. He didn’t have a single guess as to why Kuroo might be annoyed by that information.

“Why would you need medical grade in the first place?” Kuroo asked, turning to face him.

The sudden action surprised Tsukishima, and he couldn’t keep the startled widening of his eyes or parting of his lips hidden. His shoulders tensed as if sensing a fight, but he didn’t take a step back like his mind told him to do. Kei worked over the truth in his mind trying to figure out what he could say that would satisfy the captain without telling him the intimate details of his personal life which he had no desire to share outside his family, friends, and the coaches. He tried to play it off with a shrug. “My scent is just a little haywire for right now. Why isn’t important. The doctor prescribed them to me—I just thought I’d reassure you because I know I sent everyone for a tailspin a few days ago.”

“Tsukishima—” he cut himself off, moving his mouth like a fish as he tried to formulate words to call him on his bluff.

The door to the changing room swung open to reveal Yamamoto and Kai who were deep in a conversation about a recent professional volleyball game they watched. Among their boisterous conversations and brief hellos to Tsukishima, the latter managed to excuse himself and slip from the club room to the gym without more fanfare.

Kuroo changed into his practice gear and followed, but Yaku was already there talking to Tsukishima, and he didn’t want to interrupt. He knew it would be too obvious to try and continue their conversation from earlier.

Brief laughter filtered from their side of the gym, but Kuroo could see the deadness behind Tsukishima’s eyes. He appeared overtly happy, exaggerating himself, and Yaku bought it—or pretended to. Something much worse happened, and he might never know.

“Gather ‘round,” Nekomata called. The team hurried to make a circle on the floor.

Kuroo noticed how Tsukishima sat on the opposite side from him, and despite his focus on the coach, he could tell there was something else occupying his mind.

“Tomorrow we will be at Fukurōdani for the practice matches. I know our team has had a rough patch these last few weeks, but I expect everyone to work harder than they ever have before. Meeting with other schools is one of our best opportunities to grow. Take full advantage of everything this weekend will have to offer. After this, we can look forward to the summer camp for more training.”

The only thing Tsukishima knew he was looking forward to was spending time with Yamaguchi and Akaashi. He was still considering dropping volleyball altogether, but as he had no one he deemed safe to discuss that topic with, the conversation stayed in his mind and weighed on him every minute of the day. Earlier that day, he stopped by the staff room to find pamphlets for the other clubs offered at Nekoma and was glad to see Naoi-sensei wasn’t there when he quickly gathered copies of all the options. He didn’t want the coaches to know—he felt guilty—but he also knew that if he wasn’t there the team would be fine. They had Inuoka and Lev, and Tsukishima saw how much better than him they were in practice every day. Sure, Lev still sucked at receives, and he didn’t listen to direction well no matter who it came from (although he clearly listened less when it came from an omega), but he was growing exponentially fast.

Tsukishima knew he had to make a decision sooner than later. The training camps were to prepare them for the Spring Interhigh, and competition would pick back up in October officially to qualify them for further matches. If he planned to drop volleyball, he needed to do so before they wasted any more time on him—he couldn’t wait for them to drop him to second string to quit. He would look like a child throwing a tantrum. Tsukishima had to head them off, but he just couldn’t settle on whether he really should leave or not. There was something in the darkest recesses of his mind that wanted to continue playing, but it would never provide him with a good enough reason to.

Nekomata continued, covering what they needed to focus on through practice and the news made Tsukishima’s shoulders sink without him realizing. Lev had been paired with Kuroo to work on receives and blocking. Tsukishima wasn’t called out specifically meaning he would play in the scrimmage. It felt like a death sentence. He knew how the coaches typically organized practices and playing in the scrimmages meant they wanted you to stay out of the way of the real practice. He kept his face impassive and unbothered as he moved, almost robotically, toward the net.

The other team members he was paired with knew the drill, but they weren’t visibly upset by being sent away. They quickly broke into teams, three on three, and Tsukishima tried to put every bit of try-hard attitude he could muster into playing. By the look on Naoi’s face, he knew he hadn’t succeeded, and the following practice after the training camp would be more of the same (if he was allowed to play in the practice matches at all)—delegated to what he disparagingly called bench duty. The players who were necessary in case of injury. The ones who were one step from cheering in the stands like his brother. For Tsukishima, if you weren’t on the court, you were nothing.

He tried to swallow around the lump in his throat, but as the opposing team scored another point, he dived for his water bottle on the sidelines to have something to distract himself. It wasn’t working, but his teammates didn’t seem bothered by the extended break as they took one of their own. It was clear the desire to try had been driven out of all of them at some point, and that scared Tsukishima. Am I becoming like nii-san?

Kei felt a hand over his heart before it squeezed and crushed his most vital organ. He couldn’t breathe. The beginnings of a panic attack pushed him to the floor. Everything looked blurry, and he couldn’t bring his own hand into focus. He heard voices but couldn’t hear what they said. A moment later he came back to himself. Tsukishima turned shakily to his peers, but they were still talking amongst themselves and laughing. Naoi yelled at them to return to the game and stop wasting time on water. Nobody noticed his momentary lapse.

Relieved, Kei pushed himself shakily back onto his feet and took one more swig of water. He would have to figure out a solution to deal with his new problem later. He called for the ball and spiked it effortlessly over the net, over the hands of the supposed blocker. The guy hadn’t really tried, and it gave Tsukishima a momentary flash of hope that if anyone were to be pushed to second string first, it wouldn’t be him. He had at least a bit more time to make a decision. If the coaches moved him, he would quit. Tsukishima was always a few days away from quitting as it was. There was something unknown pushing him back, telling him to stay on the team—but he knew that voice would lose eventually, and one of those clubs from the pamphlets in his bag would be his new graduation requirement. He just had to pick one.

He pursed his lips and considered. It was true that practice added another nail to the coffin. When he got home, he would pick a club to join. He wouldn’t quit yet, but he would know where he was going when he lost all desire to keep playing—and he knew the ember was nearly gone.

Chapter Text

Tsukishima stared at the pamphlets on his desk. A collection were already in the trash as non-viable, and he quickly narrowed his choices to only a few options. He removed all sports almost immediately. If he wasn’t going to play volleyball, he didn’t want to try something else. A Japanese literature club remained on the desk alongside the history club and foreign studies club. He also retained information on the science, calligraphy, English, and volunteer clubs.

Kei removed his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose in dismay. It was much harder to choose an alternative to volleyball than he thought it would be. There was some part of him that thought another club might be less work, but every one he had an interest in would only increase his workload. At least volleyball was over as soon as practice ended every day without assigning homework.

He pushed a few more pamphlets to the side leaving him with only the history, science, volunteer, and calligraphy clubs. A moment later, he pushed the calligraphy club into the trash. At the very least, Tsukishima had limited choices. Logically, he knew he could only handle one club at most, but all of the remaining options were tempting for different reasons. There was a part of him that wanted to pursue museum studies in college, so history made the most sense for him, but science was also an interest of his—especially since it could be useful for artifact preservation—but volunteer club would look good on college applications.

A moment later, he opened his message with Yamaguchi.

Still awake?

Yeah, for a few more minutes. Have to be up early to catch the bus. Can’t wait to see you again!

If you need to go, we can always talk later.

No, Tsukki! I can talk. I’m lying in bed. It’s all good.

I’m trying to make a decision.

About?

A potential replacement club for volleyball.

The chat was silent for so long that Tsukishima thought Yamaguchi had unintentionally fallen asleep.

You’re quitting volleyball?

Maybe.

It’s still up in the air.

What’s happened?

I’m just not really into playing anymore.

Tsukki…

I think I’m losing my position on the team.

I’m sorry to hear that.

I’ve been feeling it coming for weeks. It started shortly after my heat. The coaches announced they were moving Lev from the second string, and I just knew what was happening. Then the whole thing with accidentally scenting Kuroo-san, and then having my soulmate reject me, apparently. It’s been a long time coming. This might be my last training camp.

Is that what you wanted me to help you decide?

Help deciding on a potential club. I’ve narrowed it down to science, history, and volunteering.

All good options. No sports?

No sports. I’m kind of done with that idea.

I thought the first two would be good considering I want to work in a museum.

I agree.

Volunteering might look better on my transcripts for applying to college though.

Well, since you want to work in a museum, I think you should go with either of the first two. Maybe both if you can swing it?

That’s not a bad idea.

I’m not sure what I might be more interested in.

You’re still going to play this weekend, right?

I think so. All depends on whether the coaches put me in the game.

You don’t think they will?

Not sure. They relegated me to B practice today—the practice for those who don’t play in the games. The benchwarmers.

Oh.

That’s not good, is it?

No. I think Lev will be replacing me permanently in the next couple of weeks. After that, I’ll probably find a new club.

Well—I’m excited to play with you this weekend, then. If it’s the last time. Hopefully you can play in a few games, or we can do extra practice together?

Sure, just a bit, though. There’s not really any point in working harder if I’m going to be replaced anyway.

I’m sorry you had to move to Tokyo. Maybe if we were on a team together, it would be different.

Yeah. This year has been the worst.

Have a good night, Tsukki. I’ll see you tomorrow.

Night, Yamaguchi.

Then, to Tsukishima’s horror, Akaashi’s name appeared below the text chain to indicate he read the messages. He sent his entire conversation to the group chat instead of the private one. His face went up in flames, and he felt so stupid. He sat, staring at his phone waiting for the inevitable message from Akaashi saying something he didn’t want to hear, but it never came. He hesitantly closed his phone for the night and tucked into bed, dreading what Akaashi might say to him in person the next day.

Akaashi pushed Bokuto off him, and the latter groaned. “I just need to see why my phone was vibrating.”

Bokuto’s hands were wandering where they shouldn’t while Akaashi stretched for the device on his nightstand. He settled back into his boyfriend’s bare chest as he opened the message. Bokuto’s lips were soft and distracting against his neck as he tried to make sense of the long text chain between Tsukishima and Yamaguchi. When the words finally clicked in his mind, he swore.

Bokuto stopped and watched Akaashi cautiously.

“I have to text Kuroo,” he whispered. “I promised I wouldn’t meddle anymore, but this is serious.”

“What happened?” Bokuto asked.

“Tsukishima’s planning on quitting the team.”

Kōtarō’s eyebrows twitched as he tried to make sense of the situation. “Why?”

“It sounds like they’re lining up Lev, an alpha, to take his place. There’s a lot of Tsukishima’s past I don’t know, but so much about him worries me. A few weeks ago, I was convinced he was going to kill himself.”

Bokuto’s arms tightened around his waist.

“I honestly wouldn’t be surprised if he was still in that headspace—it doesn’t go away easily. I just…” Akaashi drifted off. “If he’s going to quit volleyball, I feel like Kuroo has a right to know.”

“So, he has a chance to try and fix it?” he asked.

“I—I don’t know. I’m not sure it’s something that could just be fixed.” Akaashi’s fingers tightened around the phone. “Should I not tell him?”

Bokuto considered it for a moment. “You should, I think. He ultimately has to act like he doesn’t know, but I think he deserves to know some of what’s happening.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. From what you’ve told me in confidence—I think he needs to know. I’d be really upset if you quit the team, and I had no idea why. Tsukishima will try to cover up the reason, and it might ruin Kuroo. He’s already hurt knowing that he’s the reason Tsukishima is the way he is right now, even if he doesn’t know it’s soulmate rejection syndrome. I think it’s fair for him to prepare for Tsukishima’s exit from the team. We wouldn’t want him stalking him to try and find out why he left, and he’d be a bigger headache to deal with because I’m sure he’d realize we know why.”

“So, we’re doing the right thing?”

“Yes—” he pursed his lips and paused. “This weekend could be a chance for Kuroo to try and convince Tsukishima to stay on the team.”

Akaashi hesitantly took screenshots of the messages and loaded them in a text to Kuroo. He made Bokuto press the send button because he couldn’t quite bring himself to do it.

I know I said I was going to stay out of your relationship issues and everything, and I’m still not sure it’s my place to say anything more here, but Bokuto agreed and said he thinks you ought to know. I’m sorry.

The message was read a moment later, but it took Kuroo a long while to formulate a reply.

Thanks for letting me know. What did he mean by having his soulmate reject him?

Akaashi scrambled to review the texts, and there it was. Plain as day. He sent Kuroo Tsukisima’s medical diagnosis without meaning to. With shaky fingers he debated not saying anything further, but he knew Kuroo well enough to know he would search it online—he probably already was.

When Tsukishima scented you by accident, and you had Kenma override it, it caused a condition known as soulmate rejection. That’s why his scent is sour. It’s why he has to wear those patches.

What?

How long?

How come it didn’t happen to Yamamoto?

I didn’t know I was rejecting him.

I didn’t mean to.

His scent is because of me?

Akaashi pursed his lips before replying.

Kenma was never scented by Yamamoto, and you didn’t scent him, so it didn’t cause a rejection. The smell is supposed to stick around for up to another two months. However, Tsukishima believes that his soulmate took a chosen mate because he couldn’t figure out the source of the rejection, so he’s not interested in dating anyone anymore as far as I’m aware. He was really upset by the idea of a chosen mate over a soulmate, so… he’s going through a lot. It’s just the tip of the iceberg for why he wants to leave the team.

fuck

FUCK

I really did mess up, didn’t I?

It’s not impossible to get him back, Kuroo. I don’t think it is, anyway. You just have to be patient. Focus on this weekend. Rebuild his confidence in volleyball. He hasn’t left yet.

Akaashi had a feeling that weekend was going to be an absolute mess.

Chapter Text

Kuroo rode the morning train sitting with Kenma, Yaku, and Kai like usual. Tsukishima was a few seats away staring out the window with his headphones on. Kuroo pulled out his phone and unlocked it before handing it to Yaku with the text messages Akaashi shared open.

“What is this?” Yaku asked.

“Akaashi sent it to me last night—Bokuto convinced him to. The messages are from Tsukishima and his friend from Karasuno who will be joining us today.”

“Oh! The one he protected from the bullies that led to his broken arm.” Yaku focused on the messages, Kai and Kenma leaning in to read over his shoulder.

“He’s quitting the team?” Kenma asked with a more neutral expression than Kuroo could recall him having before.

“He’s making plans to.” Kuroo nodded.

“Because of us?” Kenma read the texts between Akaashi and himself. “Because I scented you.”

Kuroo nodded stiffly.

“I’m sorry,” Kenma whispered. “I never should’ve volunteered to do that. I had no idea it would cause all of this.”

Yaku swallowed the “I told you so” rising in this throat. Instead, he asked, “How can we convince him to stay?”

“No idea.” Kuroo swiped at his face with his hand, attempting and failing to rub away the stress. “But we won’t be able to smell him on the court for another couple months, and by then it’ll be back to his normal scent—as long as he’s still on the team.”

Kai turned in his seat to look at the coaches sitting in the lower portion of the train carriage reviewing information on a clipboard. “I wouldn’t be surprised if the suppression patches he’s wearing are affecting the way he plays. He seems so tired at practice lately, and I think that’s why the coaches rotated him out of the line-up for a while.”

“That makes a lot of sense, actually.” Yaku twisted to watch Tsukishima who now had his eyes closed. “With medical grade, I bet they’re affecting a lot more than just his scent, and he psychologically thinks he’s been rejected. There’s a lot of negatives influencing him from all sides and being pushed off the court isn’t helping. We need to get him back to basics, train on the simple stuff. Maybe he’ll feel a little better if we put some focus into him like we are doing with Lev because he sucks tremendously at the basics.”

“It’s worth a shot, but making Tsukishima work alongside Lev is a recipe for disaster. I have a hard enough time dealing with him, but it’s different for him,” Kenma said.

“Rivals.” Kai pursed his lips. “Have Kuroo work one-on-one with Lev. I know Yaku has been doing most of it recently, but Kuroo is a close second behind Yaku on receives. He’s not a bad person to train with, and Tsukishima is more likely to reject working with Kuroo after everything that’s happened. Of course, don’t just work on receives with him. Spiking is important, and Teshiro can play setter. He’ll get in some good practice on landing spikes against Yaku—I swear he could pick up anything.”

“Please, I’m nothing compared to Nishinoya from Karasuno. I don’t think he’s interested in going pro like I want to, but I have so much to learn from him. His instincts are scary to watch. I went back and watched their game against Date Tech, and he saved a ball with his foot. I’ve never seen anyone at our level do that before,” Yaku said. “Maybe I could rope him into extra practice with us—and I bet if I got his friend, Yamaguchi I think it is, involved that he might be interested in staying more than normal. We could plan on commandeering a gym to ourselves.”

“See, plans.” Kai grinned at Kuroo. “You just have to talk to the right people—and listen to us.”

Kuroo snorted and saw the electronic sign flash their upcoming stop. He stood and gathered his bag. “Sure, but thanks.”

He ushered them out of the seats ahead of him, checking to make sure everyone had their things and noticed Tsukishima hadn’t responded to the bustle of the team preparing to exit the train. He watched the slow rise and fall of Tsukishima’s chest for a moment before thinking of the most calming and reassuring things he could. Kuroo reached for the scent gland on his wrist knowing it was wrong and shady, but he couldn’t stand by and do nothing. Slowly, he slipped his fingers over the gland startling him awake. Tsukishima’s soft brown eyes were wide, and he lifted his hand to cradle it against his chest as if burned. His breathing was shallower than before, and he ran his tongue uneasily over his chapped lips.

Kuroo quickly withdrew his hand, pretending as if he merely tapped him on the arm. “Our stop is up.”

“Thanks,” he mumbled. Tsukishima stood and collected his bag before queuing in the line to exit as far from Kuroo as he could get. He kept checking his wrists uneasily, and he curiously sniffed the one Kuroo scented. Some of the tension eased from his shoulders before quickly returning as he realized what happened.

Kuroo pretended not to see it happening as he laughed at a joke Yaku made. He knew he started a dangerous game with his own emotions, but if Tsukishima decided to ask an alpha to override the scenting, at least he could better understand what he put his soulmate through. If he didn’t, then he could experience a brief moment of comfort that Tsukishima wasn’t entirely repulsed by his scent. He intended it entirely as a method of calming some of his turmoil. He wanted it to be the one last wrong thing he did.

Slowly, they shuffled their way across the sidewalks to the Fukurōdani campus where they met the other teams milling in the parking lot. Some were asking about the new team from Miyagi who got an invitation through Nekoma, so they entertained a few questions about the team ahead of their arrival.

The Fukurōdani coaches were in charge of checking everyone in, and they had clipboards the students had to fill out with important information. It was as Kuroo was talking to the captain from Shinzen that the worst possible thing he could imagine happened. Kuroo watched, slack jawed, as if it happened in slow motion.

“You can’t wear any scent neutralizers at training camps. It’s against the rules because teams need to be exposed to everyone’s pheromones.” The coach reached for Tsukishima’s neck, and he stepped back hastily, clasping a hand over it.

“They’re prescribed by my doctor. I have to wear them,” Tsukishima said.

“Then you’ll have to leave the training camp. We have strict rules here.”

Tsukishima’s face went entirely pale. All the attention was focused on him, and he stumbled around sounds, unable to form full words to explain why. Suddenly, Nekoma as a team was surging forward to form a protective barrier around Tsukishima. Kuroo wasn’t sure when he moved, but he stood at the front with his arms crossed.

Naoi was rushing across the parking lot waving a clipboard, but he wasn’t arriving fast enough.

“This is ridiculous!” the coach yelled. “All you have to do is take the patches off, and you can stay and play. It’s regulation rules. I don’t know what your team has been allowing you to do at your school—”

Bokuto and Akaashi’s sudden appearance startled the coach. Bokuto copied Kuroo’s stance and glared while Akaashi ducked between the Nekoma team members and gently pulled Tsukishima away from the kerfuffle. Whispers erupted around them, and Kuroo could sense something was happening to Tsukishima, but he refused to back down from the challenge to protect him. He would check on him after.

Naoi arrived, puffing, a moment later. He pressed a sheet of paper to the coach’s clipboard and managed to get out a few words about having the adjustment approved by the regulation. The coach turned a bright pink and apologized for the confusion, but it did nothing.

The whispers grew into worried conversation, and suddenly everyone formed a circle. Kuroo spun to find Tsukishima sitting on the ground with his head between his legs in the middle of a panic attack. Akaashi held onto him, trying to whisper comforting words, but nothing was working. Kuroo’s heart constricted, and he took several quick steps forward to bend down in front of him.

Akaashi pulled Tsukishima gently toward him, lifting his head and wiping away the tears gathering against his cheeks. “I don’t know what to do,” he said.

“Lift his left wrist to his nose,” Kuroo said softly where no one other than Akaashi could hear him.

Curious and confused, he followed the instruction. Tsukishima took several shallow breaths before they naturally started to even out. His eyes closed, and he leaned into Akaashi keeping his wrist close.

“What did you do?” Akaashi hissed.

“Tell you later.” He patted his friend on the shoulder before standing. “Yaku?”

“I got him.” Yaku appeared suddenly behind his captain. “We’ll both get it taken care of.”

“Thanks.” Kuroo turned on his heel and stalked away, leveling the coach with one more glare.

Bokuto scurried after him to get more information, and the crowd dispersed. However, their conversation carried on about the events of the arrival. Kai hurried after his captain after checking on the three and making sure everything would be okay.

They found a private spot to wait, but none of them said a word. As they waited, the Karasuno bus pulled into the lot and parked near them. When the team started exiting, a sense of normalcy floated over them hastened by Tanaka and Nishinoya’s confusion about the cell transmission tower.

“Where’s Tsukki?” Yamaguchi asked with his bag over his shoulder.

“He’s with Akaashi and Yaku. He had a panic attack not that long ago because a coach was trying to not let him wear his scent patches,” Kuroo said. Yamaguchi’s eyes widened. “It’s already resolved, but I’m sure it’ll be better when he sees you.”

Yamaguchi nodded and ran off toward the building.

“So, what did you do to Tsukishima?” Kai asked after they finished greeting Karasuno’s team and sending them in the right direction to check-in with the coaches.

“Something so stupid he might hate me if he realizes it.” He bit his lower lip. “I was frustrated with being the cause of his problems that I wanted to be a bit of help, so I scented him when I woke him up on the train. It’s faint and soft, and only on the wrist, but it was enough to help him calm down earlier.”

“Kuroo,” Bokuto sighed. “I know your heart is in the right place, but your brain.”

“I don’t think you’re allowed to talk about that,” Kuroo said playfully.

“I get that my relationship with Akaashi is way different than yours because we both know about the whole soulmate thing, and we’re actually dating, but our relationship would be nothing without honest communication between us. You can’t keep doing things like that in secret and hoping he doesn’t realize. He’s already hurt, and one of these days your recklessness is going to cause you to get hurt, too. I don’t want to see that happen,” Bokuto said. “He wants to leave volleyball, right?”

Kuroo flinched.

“You have to stop with the secrets and overprotectiveness when he knows nothing. Communicate with him.”

“And, we already have a plan in place for encouraging him to stay,” Kai said. “I’m sure Yaku is already putting it into motion. You can try to help and get to know him in your own way, too, but let us try to at least keep him on the team—otherwise your chances are all but shot. There’s no way you have time outside of club responsibilities to get to know a random first year.”

“It’s a lot harder to fight off your instincts than you make it seem.” Kuroo stretched his arms over his head, the joints popping.

Bokuto hummed thoughtfully. “I don’t know about that. I trust Akaashi. It’s never really been a struggle between us. I guess when we first started dating, I felt the need to scent him more, but now I don’t feel that so much.”

“That’s because you’re having sex,” Kuroo snorted.

Bokuto glared at him.

“They’re starting the first game!” the captain of Ubugawa called.

“Just no more doing secret things,” Bokuto pointed an accusing finger at Kuroo as they walked toward the gym. “Obviously, you’re in a position where you can’t tell him about the whole soulmate thing, but you shouldn’t scent him without his permission. That’s just scummy—even if it’s faint and could be brushed off like an accident. Think of what you did to him when it really was an accident, and he could really hurt you if he found out and had someone override it. We’re just looking out for you. That’s all I’m going to say.”

“Let’s hope my scent is faint enough he doesn’t realize, and it fades quickly. I’ll really fight it the next time, I swear.” He frowned at the unimpressed looks Bokuto and Kai gave him. “If I do, you can let Yaku do whatever he wants to me as punishment.”

Kai shrugged. “Alright, he’s legitimately sorry.”

“I’ll be sure to tell Akaashi of his promise. He’ll help keep Kuroo in line.”

As they stepped into the gym, Tsukishima stood next to Yaku, Teshiro, and Yamaguchi just as Yaku planned. Lev was practically hanging off Kenma begging for praise, and the latter sent a clear “help me” signal with his eyes toward Kuroo. Cursing his rotten luck of being stuck with Lev for the training camp, he stepped forward and smoothly pushed the alpha toward preparing for their practice game with basic stretches.

The coaches conversed in a corner, most likely determining the lineup and the losing punishment. In previous years, with four teams, they played three set matches, but Kuroo was sure that would change with the addition of Karasuno. He watched Yamaguchi wave over Nishinoya and speak with him a bit before he appeared to agree to the proposal to practice together during free evening time. Tsukishima was the only one who didn’t look thrilled at the prospect of more training, but at least it didn’t look like he was turning the idea down immediately.

“We’ve come to a decision,” the coaches announced waving everyone over. “We’ll be playing one set matches. Losers will participate in diving receive laps around the gym. One team will be rotated off each round in a round robin style, so it doesn’t matter if you win or lose, but obviously everyone should be playing to win.”

“Coaches will determine line ups for individual matches. We’ll be wanting to test out all sorts of different formations. So, don’t expect to play in every match. There will be some time after practice before dinner today to work individually. After dinner, we’ll have baths and sleep before getting up to practice all over again tomorrow with teams leaving at the end of the day. Be sure to use your time wisely as we won’t see each other for a few weeks when we have our weeklong camp. Take advantage of every opportunity.”

Kuroo noted the bored expression on Tsukishima’s face and tried not to frown. It didn’t look that different from his normal resting expression, so they wouldn’t be able to tell, but Kuroo could see the way he dragged through the motions of participation. He knew it was only a matter of a few rounds of play when they would switch him out for Lev and only drive the nails deeper into Tsukishima’s psyche over volleyball.

Kuroo was powerless to stop it. He had to watch from the sidelines and pray that somehow Yaku could rescue the whole scenario. He knew the train wreck was only a moment from happening, but the railroad switch was stuck, and no amount of weight he threw against it would make the tracks move.

The first four games included Tsukishima on the court, and they only lost one game—against Ubugawa who had a few lucky shots mainly against Kuroo who was still distracted by what he knew would happen.

On the fifth game, it did. Lev’s name was called for the main line up, and Tsukishima was left out. He quietly dismissed himself to refill his water bottle, and only Naoi-sensei and Kuroo kept track of where he was going, though Kuroo was sure it was only himself counting the seconds in his head and wondering how many minutes was too long for Tsukishima to be gone.

Bokuto went up for a spike, and Kenma, who jumped to block it alongside Lev moved his arms away from the incoming ball. The ball bounced through the back court, and Kuroo turned in time to feel his heart drop. The ball soared straight toward Tsukishima returning with his filled bottle. His eyes widened at the sight before he raised a hand to block it. Kuroo felt the pain bloom on his wrist as the ball hit before bouncing harmlessly away.

Kuroo turned and glared at Bokuto who had the right mind to look a little sheepish at the impact of his spike while Nekomata yelled at Kenma for running away from the block.

“Are you okay?” Kuroo asked as he rotated to the back for his serve.

Tsukishima appeared startled by the question. “It’s just a rogue volleyball. I’ve encountered far worse. Why are you asking?” His eyes narrowed at the end.

Kuroo thought back to how much his wrist stung and tried to think of a plausible reason, but he couldn’t formulate any words. He couldn’t recall if it hurt so much because of everything else he was feeling or if the ball had hit abnormally hard. He settled on a shrug before falling into the serve and doing his best to ignore Tsukishima’s existence—except he could feel the omega’s eyes following him curiously around the court, but whenever he looked, Tsukishima was always doing something else.

Chapter Text

“But Tsukki! You agreed earlier.” Yamaguchi tugged on Tsukishima’s arm as the coaches released them for an hour of free time prior to dinner and baths for bedtime routines.

“I didn’t really want to then either.” He tried to shake off his friend to no avail.

“Just for a little while. If you really hate it, then you can go relax before dinner.”

Tsukishima sighed and reluctantly allowed himself to be pulled over to their ragtag group which Akaashi voluntarily joined leaving behind his boyfriend with Kuroo and Kenma, the former of whom didn’t look terribly pleased with the outcome.

“I thought you might need another setter,” Akaashi said. “Looked like a fun group to practice with.”

Tsukishima sighed. “You don’t have to lie, Akaashi-san. I know Yamaguchi is trying to organize this to cheer me up.”

Yamaguchi shared an uncomfortable look with Yaku before accepting the blame and quickly trying to push them into playing more volleyball.

“No, I really do want to practice,” Yamaguchi said. “It’s so different not having you around, and this is just more time that I can spend with you.”

Tsukishima fought off the smile that wanted to form at his best friend’s comforting words. He opened his mouth to respond when the third years from Karasuno crossed behind them.

“Lev’s spikes were like nothing I’ve seen before,” Sugawara Kōshi said.

“I know, it was a like a whip.” Daichi lifted his hands over his head and stretched.

“He’s so tall. It honestly scared me as much as I was excited about playing against him. He has a threatening aura on the court that really takes you by surprise,” Azumane Asahi said. “I was really impressed by how Nekoma decided to switch up their line up.”

“What do you think we should work on first to counteract our opponents?” Suga asked.

“I’m not sure. I think we need to get stronger at some of the basics first, but having Hinata and Kageyama show up and then winning our first game—it pissed me off because it felt like we needed them to win. It shouldn’t be that way.”

By the looks on everyone’s faces, Tsukishima knew he hadn’t kept the hurt or disappointment from his expression. His mouth snapped shut, and he nodded jerkily for them to get the volleyball to practice.

“Um, what’s going on?” Nishinoya whispered rather loudly to Yaku.

“I’m not sure.” Yaku feigned ignorance around his tight smile.

Extra practice hardly went how Yaku originally wanted it to. Tsukishima wasn’t jumping nearly as high as he did in the matches, and his spikes lacked strength. His receives were off and couldn’t make it back to the setter, and his serves went into the net more than they did over it. With each misstep, he grew visibly more frustrated and played worse.

By the time dinner was called, Yaku was one hundred percent certain they only exacerbated the problem instead of alleviating it. Tsukishima sat at a solo table with Yamaguchi and Akaashi during dinner, but he didn’t say anything through the whole meal. After dinner, they used the baths by designated secondary gender before returning to their rooms. They still had time to stay up, so Yamaguchi joined Tsukishima in the Nekoma rooms where Hinata was there speaking with Kenma.

“Having Lev on your team has made a huge difference!” Hinata said.

Tsukishima cast his eyes immediately away and made his way toward his bedroll in the far corner with his bag. He shuffled around the bag not really sure what he was looking for.

“I suppose Lev is a really great asset. There’s a lot of things he’s really good at when it comes to volleyball. His height is definitely an advantage, and he hits the ball like no one else on the team,” Kenma said.

Tsukishima’s hands balled into fists around the extra clothes and wrinkled the fabric. Yamaguchi placed a soothing hand on his shoulder, but he shrugged it off. He heard the door slide open behind him, but his hand had just landed on the resignation form.

There was a sudden shift in how Kenma spoke about Lev. “He really sucks at all the basics though. He’s worse than you, Shōyō. He doesn’t listen to anything we tell him to do, so he’s not the greatest member to have on our team right now.”

Tsukishima folded the paper within the confines of his bag before pushing it into the pocket of his shorts along with a pen and standing. The room went eerily quiet, but Tsukishima ignored them all, walking with his eyes angled away from their faces, certain he would only see pity there. He already knew what they were all thinking—he knew what the coaches wanted, and he wouldn’t allow them to have it. Not with their will.

Yamaguchi was hot on his heels, whispering his name frantically as if afraid to speak too loudly. Tsukishima pushed the door open before walking to the exit.

“Tsukki.” Yamaguchi’s plea stopped him just at the doors where he had to change his shoes.

“I’m just going for a walk,” he said.

“I’ll go with you.” He quickly changed his shoes and hurried after Tsukishima into the cool night air. He didn’t say anything more, but he followed Tsukishima’s climb up the steep hill and sat next to him on the ground next to one of the large trees that provided a bit of shade during the day when they needed a break from practice.

“I wish you’d never had to move to Tokyo and join Nekoma,” Yamaguchi said after several moments of quiet.

“Everything might’ve ended up the same if I went to Karasuno,” Tsukishima said. He leaned against the tree, and the corner of the folded paper dug into his thigh. “Maybe my mom was right all along about me being different because I’m an omega—maybe nii-san and I were just never meant to play volleyball the way we saw people do it on TV when we were kids. I remember feeling so inspired, but now all I feel is pain from pushing myself to continue. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this lonely in a team sport.”

“Maybe you’d feel more at home with our team, though? You’d at least have a friend playing with you. You definitely play better than I do.”

Tsukishima snorted. “You’ve become so bold in your lies.”

“I’m not lying—you are better than me, Tsukki.”

“Not here I’m not.” He reached into his pocket and retrieved the form. “I keep talking about doing this, but then I never act.” Tsukishima unfolded the paper and clicked the pen. “I just have to make it official—switch clubs. I still have time to establish myself elsewhere. Nii-san was able to push through and keep playing volleyball as an adult with an association team, but I don’t feel anything when I look at a ball or stand on the court. It’s like it doesn’t exist even though it’s all around me. It’s just something to keep me occupied.”

Yamaguchi sighed. “I thought you might at least hold out until our next training camp. This one was so short, I wanted just a little more time with you.”

“I don’t have to turn it in right away.” Tsukishima pressed the pen to the paper and scribbled his name across the line. “I can hold onto it, but I’m going to turn it in before they demote me, before I’m off the court entirely. I just want that much control over my fate.”

Yamaguchi rested his head against Tsukishima’s shoulder. “You deserve that much after everything. I’m really sorry that Nekoma couldn’t be a place where you could connect after what happened with Akiteru-nii. I just want to see you happy again, and I haven’t seen that since our first training camp.”

“I had thought it was a good thing for me at first, too. I really fooled myself into thinking I could do this.” He folded the paper again and tucked it back in his pocket. “We’ll still be friends even if I don’t play volleyball, right?”

Yamaguchi looked affronted at the insinuation. “Tsukki! Of course we will.”

“I just don’t want to be entirely alone.”

“Never,” he whispered.

Kuroo stood at the window of their temporary room in one of the classrooms watching the grounds with his arms folded. He hadn’t moved from that position since Tsukishima left with Yamaguchi nearly an hour before. Kenma had tried to apologize several times for his carelessness in talking with his friend from Karasuno, but Kuroo had remained dead silent as he watched. Kai checked the view out of the window several times, but he couldn’t see Tsukishima in the line of sight and eventually gave up. He stood guard as one by the one the team faded into the warm embrace of their dreams, but he couldn’t even think about sleeping until Tsukishima was back.

“Kuroo, you should sleep,” Yaku whispered. His voice was groggy as he fought off sleep to stay awake.

“Not yet. I will later.”

“It’s going to be okay,” Yaku tried to say, but even he didn’t sound confident in his assessment.

“I don’t think it is. Not this time.” Kuroo’s voice was softer than Yaku expected, and he realized belatedly it was because he was trying to hide how upset he was by everything that happened. He wasn’t the unaffected captain they expected, he was a teenager approaching adulthood who was really still just a scared kid who knew too much.

Yaku wanted to say something, but he couldn’t think of the right words when the door rattled open. Tsukishima stopped in the doorway, taken aback by Kuroo’s large frame shadowed by the light from the window.

“You were out past curfew,” Kuroo said brusquely to hide the tremor.

“I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.” Tsukishima pulled the door closed and quickly crossed the room. There was a rustle of paper as he fiddled with his bag before climbing into the futon.

Kuroo moved robotically away from the window and slid into his own futon near Yaku and Kenma. He thought he could see Yaku’s eyes open in the dark, but they spoke nothing more. It wasn’t until the sun was trying to creep its way back into the sky when Kuroo was finally able to fall asleep. Kenma and Yaku let him sleep through breakfast before they woke him up for more practice matches.

Chapter Text

Tsukishima could feel the death knell swinging over his head as he didn’t play in a single game the next day. Yaku and Akaashi kept glancing at him with concerned expressions, and Yamaguchi approached him several times during breaks, but from the looks of it, he didn’t speak a single word. Lev apologized during the games for struggling so much with the basics, and Kenma felt forced to reassure him that it was fine.

Nekomata watched the team curiously, scrutinizing everything as he considered the paths forward for their team. During their game with Karasuno, he found himself pleased with Lev’s instinctual ability to block Hinata’s quick after just a few attempts. Kenma proved his value to the team by correctly analyzing what Karasuno would do in response to Lev, and he knew the team would be moving in the right direction.

Nekomata’s eyes landed on Tsukishima standing off to the side of the game, dejected. He figured the first year thought he looked like his normal, unbothered self, but Nekomata knew better. He also knew Tsukishima was still dealing with the fallout of soulmate rejection syndrome, the accidental condition caused by their very own captain, but he could see the omega slipping farther away. The far away expression in his eyes, and the lack of interest in volleyball—he knew he would have to cut Tsukishima off eventually to keep hold of their team, but it wasn’t the right time.

Naoi-sensei sensed it as well. He reached out as a caring teacher to guide Tsukishima in the right direction, but everything kept grinding to sudden halts when the first year recognized any of their attempts to pity him. Nekomata originally wanted to play Tsukishima in more games to boost his confidence, but the depression he was fighting only pushed him lower as evidenced by the extra practice the previous night. He watched for Tsukishima to show he could keep up, but Nekomata knew he would soon be the weak link.

Kuroo would fight him on his decision to cut Tsukishima. He was emotionally involved, so he couldn’t say anything to the captain until it was already done. Naoi-sensei talked him into giving Tsukishima another chance at their next training camp in a couple of weeks, when he would potentially no longer need the scent patches to manage his scent, and Nekomata hoped he would see a spark just big enough to keep Tsukishima. If not, he would see who beat each other to the punch—Tsukishima resigning or them sponsoring his demotion.

The important puzzle piece and secret to every team was in allowing them to evolve and change. Those who didn’t have the will to try would never make it in volleyball—it was an unfortunate reality and one Ukai Ikkei critiqued him for. Ikkei always pushed his team to practice hard to a breaking point, but he never drove away anyone even when they showed little will to continue. He believed they could grow if they just kept going, but Nekomata was ruthless in cutting off the dead branches. Nekomata pursed his lips. He would talk with Naoi-sensei again.

This brings our weekend training camp to a close,” the Fukurōdani coach said as the day approached midafternoon, and they finished the last of their punishments for losing the games. “It was an incredibly fruitful weekend with a variety of players. I hope that we can all take something from this weekend and work to improve that in our teams.”

He dismissed them to a chorus of thank yous. The teams intermingled, and Tsukishima handed Yamaguchi his bag, so he could use the restroom.

“I really think we should do it sooner than later,” Nekomata’s voice floated to him from the nearby hallway.

Tsukishima stopped walking. He would have to walk past them to access the bathroom, but he had a sinking feeling in his stomach.

“We need to wait,” Naoi-sensei said. “I think with everything going on that there’s a real chance he would try to commit suicide if we were to tell him to stop trying now. He’s in a really rough spot right now because of external factors. It’s our job to help guide them toward success. I can’t in good conscience ask him to leave the team right now.”

“Tsukishima is no longer a viable option to play a position on Nekoma,” Nekomata argued.

Tsukishima’s stomach dropped, and he lost the urge to use the restroom. He pushed himself away from the wall and returned to Yamaguchi’s side attempting to look as natural and nonchalant as he could. His friend was engaged in a deep conversation with Yaku, so he turned the words of the coaches over in his mind.

He didn’t think Naoi-sensei was wholly incorrect in his assessment. The feeling to get rid of himself had been growing for some time. Some part of him wanted to end it. He already determined his soulmate didn't want him, so he couldn’t see anything worth pushing for. The coaches wanted him off the team, but they didn’t want him permanently gone which he didn’t view as the victory they painted it as. Tsukishima thought he might already be partially dead. He couldn’t remember when he last felt a positive emotion. Relief was neither positive nor negative, it just was. Knowing he was making the right decision with the paper in his bag eased some pressure from his heart and shoulders.

Tsukishima’s mind wandered to think about what it would be like if he was gone. He figured Yamaguchi would be sad, but he had his team in Miyagi. He was friendly, and he could make other friends. Nekoma would march on just the same without him as it did now. He wasn’t necessary. His mother would have one less burden to take care of with their move to Tokyo. He knew how tough it was on her to support her two sons as a single mother. She could put her focus into Akiteru, the more successful of them in a twisted turn of irony.

He wondered what would be the easiest way to do it. He figured an overdose with the over-the-counter drugs at home had the most access to other methods. Tsukishima could feel the dark thoughts wrapping his heart in a war cloak until his death sounded like the only viable option. Even if he had misunderstood the soulmate rejection, which he doubted he or the doctors did, he thought whoever was on the other end of his connection would be better off without him. He was a freak omega, too tall, too skinny, too much of everything that nobody wanted. His lower lip trembled.

A hand grabbed his arm. “Hey,” Akaashi said, removing him from the tidal wave of plans for quitting the team and then vanishing altogether. “I wanted to say goodbye before we all separate.”

“Thanks,” Tsukishima mumbled.

Yamaguchi’s eyes were trained on his face as if he could read Tsukishima’s thoughts.

“I really had a lot of fun practicing with you and your friends last night,” Akaashi tried to hold a conversation again.

“You should tell them directly—I didn’t plan anything, and I didn’t even play well at all. If you had fun, they should know. You could have more people to play with.”

Silence stretched between them.

“Are you sure you don’t want to join us again for weekend practices?” Akaashi asked. “It was nice having another friend around.”

Tsukishima peered over Akaashi’s head where Kuroo watched them a little too intently for his liking. It turned his stomach uncomfortably and added to the sour feeling he felt around the Nekoma captain. He couldn’t understand the instigator for the sudden shift, but he felt constantly on edge and jumpy around Kuroo. Tsukishima’s desire to be anywhere near him had evaporated since their disastrous Interhigh match. Being around Kuroo increased the ill feeling in his mind that made him want to be rid of volleyball forever—he was tired of feeling that way. The thought of extra practice with the captain sounded like active torture.

He settled for shaking his head. “I really don’t see the point after the last couple of days.”

Akaashi felt his heart sink into the pit of his stomach, and his lower lip trembled under a wave of empathy. “Okay.”

Tsukishima was thankful he left it at that and didn’t push it anymore. He didn’t want to say anything to Akaashi, or to anyone for that matter, but at the bottom of his bag was an already signed club resignation form that he just needed the courage to hand to Naoi-sensei. Yamaguchi knew it was there. He watched Tsukishima sign it the night before after he left the Nekoma room to take a walk.

The paper was crinkled and stained with his frustrated tears. He didn’t want to wait until he was officially demoted, but he also didn’t want to see the disappointment in Naoi-sensei’s face when he turned in the form. There was no way to just leave it for him to find because if he did, he’d be called out of class to address it. It felt like a brand burning its way into his side as he pressed the bag closer.

As the Karasuno bus pulled away, Akaashi checked his phone, angling the device just right where Tsukishima couldn’t read the notification. He heard Nekomata call for their team to gather to take the train home, and he left Akaashi with only a soft goodbye.

Chapter Text

Kuroo stared down at the screenshot of a private message with Tsukishima’s friend that Akaashi sent him just as they were leaving Fukurōdani. Everything in him felt numb, and he couldn’t hear what the others were saying. A ringing filled his ears, and his teeth clenched together so hard an ache was already settling in his jaw. Kenma and Yaku turned around suddenly, startled by the spike in his pheromones, and they fully stopped walking at the look on his face.

He couldn’t bring himself to say anything, but he stalked forward with hunched shoulders and hurt building in his chest that made him want to just lose control of everything and scream into the void for a little while. Kuroo fought to keep his pheromones in check when Yamamoto carefully peeked at him. He saw Tsukishima start to turn but when Lev commented loudly on his smell, Tsukishima kept walking. He bit out a scathing response for Lev, but he wasn’t sure any of the words made sense. The only thing burned into his retinas were the tiny words:

He signed the resignation paper last night.

Heat flushed across his cheeks, and an unexpected tear tore its way from the outer corner of his eye across his cheek. Kuroo stopped walking from shock.

“Kuro?” Kenma reached a hand to his arm, but he jumped away.

“Sorry,” he muttered. “Don’t worry about it.”

Kuroo didn’t tell anyone what he knew, but he listened closer. He heard the coaches arguing about when they should drop Tsukishima from the team—he saw the pallid demeanor the omega took on with every passing day. He knew the paper existed, he saw it sitting folded and crinkled at the top of Tsukishima’s bag. He kept waiting for the moment it wouldn’t be a possibility but a reality.

A couple of weeks passed since their initial training camp, and they were preparing for the next one. Lev had taken Tsukishima’s regular spot in practice, and the third years all knew what it meant. They saw it happen before. Kuroo didn’t need to say anything to them. They started to withdraw as well. Only Yaku pushed himself closer to Tsukishima in hopes of getting him invested in practice again, but even he couldn’t save the latter from the spiraling depression they recognized. Kenma apologized profusely for praising Lev previously, but they all could see the change. Lev was stronger than Tsukishima on the court, at least in their current form. It would be better and make more sense if Nekoma dropped the weakest teammate.

Just one more training camp, Tsukishima kept repeating. One more time to see Yamaguchi, then that paper gets turned in.

The resignation form equally haunted Tsukishima and Kuroo. It chased them in their dreams and weighed heavily on their day-to-day activities. Kuroo had experience feigning his emotions, and hardly anyone on the team could see the difference. He spoke rousingly about putting their best foot forward and becoming the best to encourage them for their upcoming games and competitions, but the faraway look in Tsukishima’s eyes as if he was no longer truly in the gym with them made the last few fizzle into nothing.

The third years, and Kenma, could sense it. The training camp would be the last time they played alongside Tsukishima. It was goodbye, and the coaches wouldn’t even put him in the game. It felt like the end to something larger, and in a way, it was. Yaku returned to teaching Lev under coach’s orders. Tsukishima was pushed to the wayside.

As Kuroo was leaving practice the day before they were set to join the second round of training camp at Shinzen, he saw Tsukishima leaning against the wall of the gym with his head tilted up and eyes closed. He wandered closer, and that was when the conversation between Nekomata and Naoi, who thought they were far enough away to not be noticed, filtered over him.

“I’ve said it before, we need to cut him from the team,” Nekomata said.

“He is still dealing with his medical diagnosis, and I’m sure that’s affecting his play. I’ve spoken with his mother directly about things as well, and he’s not doing well mentally as a result of everything. I understand that he’s not playing to Nekoma standards, but Tsukishima deserves to have a chance once he’s healed. Tsukishima said it would be another couple of weeks before he could stop wearing the scent patches—he’s started to normalize.”

“I don’t think it’s enough to keep him on the first string. Those who sit on the sides have better attitudes about volleyball. It’s like he thinks if he’s not good at volleyball then he’s not good at anything. He was incredibly promising when we saw him first play, but he hasn’t developed like the others have. It would be cruel to keep giving him hope.”

Kuroo stopped walking, standing in front of Tsukishima.

“We should invest in him and rebuild confidence. The last few months have been hard on him, and you know why. Kuroo—”

“Is the captain, and he has to live with his mistakes, but this is our reality. Nekoma is not made stronger holding onto weak players.”

Footsteps as Naoi, and shortly after Nekomata, walked away.

Tsukishima opened his eyes to see Kuroo standing there. His eyes were focused on the bend of the corner, and he looked thunderous, but Kei couldn’t fathom why.

“Kuroo-san?” he asked as soft as he possibly could.

When Kuroo’s eyes moved to him, his expression softened and something Tsukishima couldn’t name flitted across it. He raised a hand and made to place it on Tsukishima’s head before he stopped. They stared at the raised hand. Tsukishima waited for it to ruffle his hair and wondered what it would feel like, if some of the captain’s scent might rub off and linger in his lungs for a few days like at the last camp. He had noticed, but he simultaneously minded and didn’t mind, adding to the confusing emotions swirling in him. He opted not to say anything and just enjoy the accidental scenting. His stomach swooped as the hand lowered, but it moved to his shoulder instead.

Kuroo squeezed his shoulder comfortingly before letting it slide away. Tsukishima straightened, disappointment seeping into his gut, and he was reminded of their height difference. It wasn’t much, but he was taller than Kuroo. No one would want an omega like me, he thought. Taller than most alphas and weaker than them, too. It is no wonder that he’s interested in Kenma-san. He’s the right size and personality for an omega.

“Don’t let Nekomata stop you from proving him wrong,” Kuroo said.

“Eh?” Tsukishima said without thinking. His eyes went wide behind his glasses.

“I think Nekomata is wrong about you. Lev may have grown quickly, but I think you’ll be the better player to replace me next year. Don’t let him convince you to give up.” Kuroo turned away, pursing his lips. “I know you haven’t really liked being around me, and I understand why, but I want to see you keep playing. If you want to keep playing, just find me. I’m here for you. I remember when you played before the—incident. Even Bokuto was getting pissed off at how good you were. Don’t let that hard work fall to the wayside.”

“Senpai?” Tsukishima asked.

“If you need anything, I mean it. Just talk to me.” Kuroo continued walking, shoving his hands in his pockets as he went. Tsukishima didn’t follow, but Kuroo turned back briefly at the gate under the guise of checking his phone and looking for Kenma, and he saw the omega’s eyes still watching every move. Kuroo tapped a quick message on his phone before leaving the grounds for home.

Chapter Text

“We’ll be playing two set matches this time around since we have more time to spend together. We put together a list of matchups to get close to an even rotation of plays against each other. We may be off by one or so matchups. The Shinzen special for losing teams is running up that hill,” the coach pointed outside to the steep hill, “when you lose a game. It’ll help build stamina and footwork. The news reported it would get hotter over the next couple of days, so we may switch back to diving receives to save you from heat stroke. Any questions?”

When the resounding “No” echoed around the room, the coach told them who they’d play in rotation. Nekoma would have the first break and be in charge of score keeping and referring for the first games. It was up to Kuroo to split people for their tasks, so he put himself with Tsukishima on scorekeeping for the Karasuno versus Fukurōdani game while he paired Lev with Yaku (which earned him a dark glare) to the Shinzen versus Ubugawa game. He made sure to place Kenma and Yamamoto on line duty together, but he knew they’d be separated by the court at the very least (so Kenma wasn’t as upset with him about his obvious choice).

While they were keeping score, Nekoma didn’t need to wear their colored jerseys. With five teams, they had to adopt two blue colors from the available jerseys. Fukurōdani had a light shade of blue bordering on aqua while Nekoma claimed the dark blue leaving yellow for Karasuno, pink for Shinzen, and green for Ubugawa. The most horrendous combination was Ubugawa’s jersey over their bright yellow shirts, but they claimed it made them stand out more on the court. They were definitely eye catching in the wrong way, in Kuroo’s opinion.

Kuroo didn’t say anything to Tsukishima as he used the chalk to mark in his neat handwriting the characters for Karasuno and Fukurōdani. He considered writing it as crows versus owls but hesitated under the watchful eye of Nekomata who Kuroo wasn’t sure would fully appreciate his shorthand.

“Who do you think will win?” Kuroo asked.

Tsukishima turned his head just slightly to be able to watch Kuroo for any clues. He forced himself to remain casually leaned against the rolling scoreboard.

“I don’t know,” Tsukishima said.

“Oh, come on. Make a friendly wager.”

“Wager? Am I getting a reward out of this if I win?”

“I suppose we could come up with some stakes.” Kuroo considered Tsukishima carefully. “If I win, you have to join me for free practice tonight, but if you win, I’ll make sure Yaku doesn’t drag you out for training until the last possible moment tomorrow morning.”

Tsukishima’s mouth and eyebrow twitched subtly as he contemplated the offered branch. It was too tempting for him to pass up. “Karasuno,” he said.

“Oh? Picking the team with your friend on it. I see where your loyalties lie.” Kuroo flipped the first point for Fukurōdani. “I’m honestly a bit surprised you’re betting on them considering they won less than a handful of games at our last training camp.”

“They started winning games when that freak duo arrived, and they’re here from the start this time,” Tsukishima said.

“Sound logic, but I think you’ve forgotten to take in a key component in the battle of the birds,” Kuroo said. He caught the curious expression on Tsukishima’s face from the corner of his eye before it fluttered away again, and he smirked. “Fukurōdani has Bokuto, and he’s not a top five spiker in Japan for nothing.”

Bokuto slammed home another spike right over Hinata’s head as Kuroo spoke.

“Their shrimpy number ten is nothing to sneeze at, and we both know that from playing them, but nothing beats experience on the court. I would argue that Akaashi’s sets are better than Kenma’s, but if you tell him that, I will have to kill you.”

“Oh?”

“Obviously. If he knew, he’d never come to practice again. It’d be a nightmare for Nekoma.”

“Your speech acts on the premise that I care what happens to Nekoma as a team.” The words slipped from his mouth before he could stop them. Kuroo was quiet for a long time, and despite his general uncaring attitude, something about the silence unnerved him. Tsukishima tried to figure out what to say, but just as he opened his mouth to let out a jumbled mess of words that he couldn’t quite formulate into a sentence, Kuroo spoke again.

“Sure. That’s also true.” He added another point to Fukurōdani. Karasuno only had one against their six. “However, I think as much as you try to hide it, there’s some part of you that still cares about volleyball. It’s just hidden behind a few dusty boxes.” He slid his gaze to Tsukishima’s flushed cheeks. “Or I’m completely wrong and you really don’t care about volleyball. Whatever you decide to feel is up to you, and I just hope you’re happy with the conclusion you come to. I think everyone deserves to find their passion in life, and that doesn’t have to be volleyball for you. Don’t feel pressured to make a decision because of what your friends want or what you think others want from you. The only person’s whose feelings matter is your own.”

Tsukishima turned slowly to stare at him in surprise. His soft brown eyes met Kuroo’s darker hazel, and a new redness spread across his nose and cheeks into his ears. “Thanks.”

Kuroo hummed. Tsukishima couldn’t bring himself to look away even as the former turned back to watch the game. He wasn’t sure how long he stood there, staring unabashedly at his captain, but the moment was broken when Kuroo whispered, “Karasuno scored a point.”

Tsukishima hurried to update the scoreboard before watching the game again. Yamaguchi rotated into the front row and managed to pull off a solid block against Konoha Akinori. Watching Yamaguchi made him uncomfortable. In the few months since they parted ways, his best friend changed into someone almost entirely unrecognizable. He was confident and focused and clearly passionate about volleyball. It was everything Tsukishima wished he could be. Then he remembered Lev and the shadow that lurked and haunted him at every turn. Something kept whispering in his ear that he could never overcome an alpha no matter how much he trained. It didn’t matter that his genetics gifted him a body somewhat built for volleyball, he was nothing compared to those on the opposite side of the gender spectrum. Kuroo was certainly stronger than him in a lot of ways. The lack of faith in Tsukishima’s abilities from the coaches didn’t help, and he could feel his mood plummet again after the brief glimmer of brightness in talking to Kuroo.

Fukurōdani took the first set, but no one considered it a surprise. Tsukishima knew he already lost the bet as a tie in their two set games would invalidate their betting, and he watched woodenly as Fukurōdani took the second set as well. They made some good plays between Kageyma’s new set, Hinata no longer freaking out about the ball going awry, and Yamaguchi’s blocks, but they also had a lot of room to improve. Tsukishima could tell Hinata and Kageyama were still hesitant around one another after the fight Yamaguchi told him about.

The other teams paused to watch in awe as Karasuno tried to absorb the same techniques they saw the other schools use against them, but they failed abysmally at every single one. For a moment, it made Tsukishima feel better about his own inadequacies, but that was quickly squashed by remembering his name wasn’t on the main team roster for practice. He’d be lucky to even see the court at their training camp. Karasuno was the first team to run the hill. The Ubugawa-Shinzen game was still ongoing as they returned. Tsukishima cleaned up the scoreboard while Kuroo watched the other two schools. Nekoma would have to play Fukurōdani or Karasuno next as Ubugawa and Shinzen were still in their first set. The coaches were discussing what they wanted to do.

As Hinata and Yamaguchi returned to the gym, they watched Ubugawa jump a three-man block against a spiker from Shinzen and kill it. Ukai walked over to break down the play, and Tsukishima listened curiously to the description of serve and block. He wondered if Nekoma might be able to absorb an attack like that similar to what Karasuno wanted to try.

Shinzen’s captain Ogano Daiki glared through the net at Gōra Masaki, the captain of Ubugawa, and said, “Damn you, fish lips.”

“Broccoli…” Gōra returned.

“Hey, stop that. You’re being rude to food,” Kuroo called from the side court. They transferred their ire to him instead, and he quickly slipped away with a smirk on his lips.

Tsukishima was still listening curiously to Ukai explaining finer points of the idea behind the serve and block strategy, but he quickly stopped and moved away when he noticed Kuroo’s gaze on him. He swore he had no interest in volleyball. None.

“It’s been decided Nekoma will play Fukurōdani next!” Naoi-sensei called. “Hurry and put on your numbers. Karasuno will switch out with score keepers and line duty.”

Tsukishima frowned at the number ten. One rank higher than Lev only because he joined the team first. He knew he would say goodbye to that number in just a few days, but something painful still twisted through his gut. Sure enough, as Naoi read off the roster for the match against Fukurōdani, his name was skipped in favor of Lev. Tsukishima kept his gaze on the floor and thought again about how nice it was to wear the medical patches and hide his unbidden disappointment from his teammates—in the more obvious sense.

“I think we should play Tsukishima instead of Lev,” Kenma said.

The team went quiet.

Naoi hesitated, “He’s not really—”

“Not what? Tsukishima has better basics than Lev does, and he has more experience playing against Bokuto. He used to go to extra practices with Kuroo, Bokuto, and Akaashi. Lev still can’t receive the ball correctly, and all he knows how to do is wildly hit it. Tsukishima can think on his feet, and he’d be a way better choice to play against Fukurōdani—if we care about winning that is.” Kenma crossed his arms in a gesture of, ‘I don’t want to play if we don’t play my way’ which was generally out-of-character for him.

Naoi and Nekomata exchanged uncertain glances.

“Alright, if you feel so passionately about it, we can rotate line ups for different practices. However, if we think any of you are struggling on the court, we won’t hesitate to switch you out for a different rotation.” Naoi cleared his throat and adjusted his clipboard. “Are you up to playing, Tsukishima?”

“If that’s what Kenma-san wants, I’ll play.” Tsukishima couldn’t confidently say he was excited to play, but there was something warm in the pit of his stomach at the thought that someone on the team wanted him to play over Lev. He didn’t think he was really that good of a player to face Bokuto as he hadn’t attended those extra practices for over a couple of months, but he could still remember some of what Kuroo taught him.

Bokuto’s strength was in straights, so if they could successfully keep him from sending the ball down the line, his only option would be in his newer skill, cross shots. He wasn’t as good at managing them and frequently went into the net at their practice sessions. It was something Kuroo always smirked at with glee. Tsukishima knew that Nekoma was good enough to pick up awry shots, and if Kuroo or Yaku were behind him, they’d be waiting for it. Kei’s mind worked in overdrive as he considered the possibilities of play—something he thought he no longer had the capacity for. He could feel a bit of excitement swelling in his chest at proving the coaches wrong and completely shutting out Bokuto. His fingers twitched subtly as anxiety overtook him, and he fought to resist the urge to pull until they popped.

His plans fizzled away as the coaches announced the rotation, putting him on the opposite line from Bokuto where they would almost never come face to face. Disappointment washed over him like being pulled by the undertow in a rip current. Ringing filled his ears, and he almost missed Kuroo debating the lineup and asking the coaches to switch him with Tsukishima. Naoi hesitated before acquiescing.

Tsukishima closed his eyes, trying to regulate the panic attack rising under his skin. He started counting and naming anything he could remember seeing in the room to help ground him. They were strategies Yamaguchi texted him when he admitted that he had no interest in seeing a therapist. Admittedly, they were helpful. He used them more often than he cared to admit.

A hand on his back startled him. His eyes flew open, but his vision was fuzzy and only basic shapes and colors registered for a long moment.

“Sorry,” Yaku said. “You ready?”

“Yeah.”

Akaashi smiled at him from the other side of the court, but he couldn’t bring himself to return the gesture of friendliness. He nodded slightly which appeased his friend.

Six points later, Tsukishima rotated into the front line. The scores were tied, and he was finally up against the net against Bokuto with Kuroo serving. He took a deep breath, trying to steady his nerves. He had a feeling he could block Bokuto—there was something about the air around them that sent hope spiraling around his heart for the first time in a long time.

Komi picked up the ball from Kuroo’s serve and as Tsukishima predicted, Akaashi sent the set to Bokuto. He ran the few steps to reach the opposing captain before he came to a full stop and jumped, centering himself on Bokuto’s spiking arm just as Kuroo taught him in their practice sessions weeks before. He saw the brief panic in Bokuto’s eyes before he shifted into a cross shot. Behind him, Kuroo waited for that exact opportunity as if he knew what would happen. Bokuto scowled as the ball flew perfectly to Kenma before being spiked down by Yamamoto.

“Perfect block, Tsukishima!” Yaku cheered from the side.

Kei suddenly wanted to curl in on himself. Panic and anxiety boiled under his skin again. The realization flooded over him that he wouldn’t be able to pull off another block like that during their game. He could feel the spiral building, and every bit of praise Kenma gave him before they started playing would be for nothing. Lev was waiting in the wings, and the coaches wouldn’t hesitate to switch him out when he failed to perform again.

“Tsukishima?” Akaashi asked through the net. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” he mumbled.

Akaashi’s eyes flitted to Kuroo who was preparing to serve again. Kenma caught the slight nod of understanding between them. They knew what was about to happen, but they had little power to stop it. After Kuroo’s serve, he darted between the others in the back row to position himself behind Tsukishima.

When his block was frazzled and delayed as predicted, Kuroo picked up Konoha’s spike and said a loud, “Nice!”

Tsukishima frowned as he landed, the word echoing in his head. Nothing about his block was nice. None of his movements were nice. None of his abilities fit that description. The only thing nice about the play was Kuroo flawlessly picking up the ball after his failure. Kenma set the ball a bit higher than normal, and it took Tsukishima’s addled brain a long moment to realize it was a spike set for him not Yamamoto. He missed Kenma calling his name, he was delayed to the runup. He wouldn’t be able to get to the ball in time to hit it over. Tsukishima jumped but not for the spike. He extended his hand and softly tapped it over the net just inside where it waterfalled against the blockers before hitting the floor.

Kuroo’s hand landed on his back a moment later. “Good decision there. We’re two points up. We can maintain that lead.”

Tsukishima swallowed thickly around the lump of frustration in his throat. The warm smell of juniper clogged his nostrils and made tears spring unbidden to his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“What for? We had a great rally because of you. Just keep playing like normal. You’re doing amazing.” Kuroo’s hand left him, and the empty feeling in his stomach returned.

Somehow the compliment felt hollow, but he knew Kuroo didn’t say things he didn’t mean. He saw the coaches scribble a note on the clipboard and unease settled in his stomach. His poor response would be another mark against him. Tsukishima tugged on his fingers reflexively, and Akaashi’s eyes darted to him. He knew what that sign meant, and it didn’t bode well for Nekoma.

Akaashi tried to subtly flag Kuroo’s attention, but he was focused on the next serve. The ball went up after a narrow save by Onaga, and Tsukishima didn’t jump. The ball hit the court behind him. The sound of it echoed and swirled around in his mind. He closed his eyes and tried to quell the panic as he swore he could hear the coaches writing another note on their clipboard. Someone said his name from behind him, but it was the sudden hands on Tsukishima’s face paired with the soft citrus of Akaashi’s clementine scent that brought him back.

He pressed his forehead against Tsukishima’s and didn’t say a single word. Kei wasn’t sure when his friend ducked under the net to his side, but he was grateful. Akaashi’s gray eyes rested on his, and he smiled.

“Better?” he whispered.

“Yes. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have agreed to play.”

“You’re still recovering.” Akaashi used a thumb to swipe at a tear Tsukishima didn’t realize was running down his cheek. Quiet enough where no one else could hear, he asked, “Do you need Kuroo?”

“Why would I—” Tsukishima knew Akaashi recognized his still lingering feelings for his captain despite everything that happened.

Something in the pit of his stomach couldn’t let go, and he hated being dragged along by it. He hated the comfort he got from Kuroo’s scent when he knew it wasn’t possible for him to date a third year let alone his captain of all people. He now had the knowledge Kuroo and Kenma weren’t dating, or that’s what he assumed from their conversation on the way to greet Karasuno that morning. However, he knew they had no future. Kuroo’s soulmate was out there somewhere, and Tsukishima’s had chosen someone else. That’s where they ended.

“No.” Kei pinched his lips between his teeth. “He doesn’t need to be involved in any of this. The coaches will probably switch me out for Lev shortly.”

“Don’t think like that. You blocked Bokuto-san earlier. You did so well. You can do it again. Keep playing. Don’t let the coaches get in your head.”

“Too late,” he whispered. One of the coaches held up a hand to a coach from Shinzen in charge of refereeing the net. “It was only a matter of time.”

A moment later, the coaches called for Tsukishima to trade places with Lev. A fake smile graced Kei’s lips as he exited the court. Akaashi exchanged a meaningful look with Kuroo before mouthing, “He’s crumbling,” and returning to his own court.

The coaches didn’t put Tsukishima back in the game even when Kenma demanded he play instead or when Lev missed easy blocks. They let Tsukishima stand on the sides as Lev failed again and again to make any basic plays. Kenma refused to send him any tosses, and Kuroo kept yelling tips at him for blocking, but it was all futile. Nekoma lost the game, and Tsukishima ran numbly up the hill next to Yaku unable to process anything he said. He settled for shaking his head before stumbling back to the bottom of the hill to retrieve his water bottle.

The pattern continued for every game after, but Nekoma won a few of them—Tsukishima never played. He blew his last opportunity on the court by freezing in the critical moment. He wasn’t built for volleyball at the standard they needed to win, and his lack of involvement would pass almost unnoticed. Tsukishima thought Yaku might notice he stopped attending practice and be the first one to ask the coaches about receiving his resignation letter, but he wasn’t sure the others would. Perhaps he could hand it in that evening, pack his things, and be on the next train home.

Yamaguchi would be the most disappointed in him. It was supposed to be their last week playing volleyball together, but he wasn’t even allowed on the court. He couldn’t match Yamaguchi’s skill to be necessary to the team. It was all over.

Chapter Text

“Tsukishima!” Kuroo wove his way through the students cleaning up the court before extra practice sessions started. Several already had their things collected with no intention of extra practice, and it was clear Tsukishima had a similar idea.

“Come on, Tsukki,” Yamaguchi’s warm voice filtered over the few remaining students separating Kuroo from them. “This is going to be our last training camp together.” A knife in Kuroo’s stomach. “Please play a little extra with me.”

“Most people are already practicing way more than any normal person would want. Why do you want to practice so much? It’s not like if I go all out it’s going to change anything.”

Yamaguchi pursed his lips at Tsukishima’s response. His eyes slid away from his friend in through and landed on Kuroo, and he snapped his jaw tight with a slight glare in Kuroo’s direction.

“Tsukishima!” he called again.

Kei turned with a frown plastered along his lips—Kuroo cleared his throat and hoped neither noticed his slip in composure.

“What?” Tsukishima asked more gruffly than normal.

“We made a wager, and I’m here to collect,” he said. “You promised you’d practice some more with Bokuto, Akaashi, and I.”

Tsukishima made an annoyed tch and turned away.

“I didn’t think you were the type to go back on your word,” Kuroo said. He glanced at Yamaguchi. “Your friend can come, too, if that’ll get you to fulfill your side of the bet.”

Yamaguchi gave Tsukishima an uneasy smile with his teeth showing. The latter pursed his lips and did his best not to cross his arms like a petulant child. He turned stiffly on one leg.

“Which gym are you practicing in?”

“Third. I’ll catch up with you. Bokuto and Akaashi might already be there.”

Tsukishima took a few angry steps away.

“I’m sorry to pull him away from you,” Kuroo said to Yamaguchi. “You are really welcome to join us.”

“Yamaguchi!” Sugawara called. “Are you free to practice the synchro attack?”

Tadashi glanced between the three of them. “I should go practice with my team. I’ll find you later, Tsukki.”

Kuroo stood there for a while longer debating. Tsukishima vanished though the door toward the gym where Bokuto and Akaashi were setting up. Yamaguchi was speaking to his vice-captain, and Kuroo steeled his nerves.

“Can I speak with Yamaguchi-kun for just a moment?” he interrupted.

“Oh, uh,” Sugawara was clearly taken aback.

“I’m not trying to steal him from your practice if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Actually, no. That’s not what I was thinking.” Suga straightened his back. “I was thinking about how you’re an alpha approaching an omega on our team and wanting to speak alone.”

Kuroo turned a furious shade of red and raised his hands over his head. “I swear I didn’t even think of that. I just wanted to talk to him about Tsukishima—his friend on my team.”

Suga pursed his lips. “Do you promise to stay in sight of us at all times with him?”

“Yes. It’ll only take a minute.”

“What do you think, Yamaguchi?” Suga asked.

Yamaguchi laughed. “Kuroo-san is perfectly safe. I’ll be right back.”

They stood just outside the gym doors in silence. Kuroo had his lips pursed as he mused over the words he wanted to say.

“I messed up severely,” he admitted.

“Oh?” Yamaguchi folded his hands behind his back.

“I’m sure you’re more aware of what happened with Tsukishima than I am, but I think I’m to blame for it.”

Yamaguchi laughed. “That’s ridiculous. What could you have done?”

Kuroo leveled him with a stern look that made him take a nervous step back. “Can you keep a secret on your own life even from Tsukishima?”

He shuffled his feet. “I’ve never kept a secret from Tsukki before.” He registered the plea in the soft hazel of Kuroo’s gaze, and he was compelled to agree. “But I can certainly try depending on the information.”

“Tsukishima is my soulmate.”

Yamaguchi’s eyes were the size of dinner plates. “What?”

“I’ve known since the last training camp with us together. I remember my arm breaking suddenly when I was a kid without reason around the time that you mentioned, and a couple of years later like you described, I broke my leg falling out of a tree saving a cat. On the way home, his head hit against the window as he fell asleep, and I felt it. I’ve noticed more since that as well, and I think I caused his scent to sour. I had Kenma override his accidental scenting because the anxiety was negatively impacting me, but I hurt him way more without meaning to.”

“You’re sure you’re soulmates?” Yamaguchi asked softly.

“Without a single doubt—I know he’s it.”

“And you hurt him?” His gaze turned fiery, and his hands balled into fists. “You’re the one who made him miserable?”

“Yes, and I absolutely deserve all your rage. Believe me, my team is mad at me, and Bokuto and Akaashi have torn into me as well. I don’t currently have any plans of telling Tsukishima because I know whatever relationship we had on the team is all but destroyed. I want him to choose what he wants for himself.”

Yamaguchi pursed his lips. “And this extra practice?”

“I may not want to trouble him with relationship complications, but that doesn’t mean that I don’t want him on my team. I know the coaches have been planning to cut him, but he’s good at volleyball—he just needs a spark to keep going. That’s all I want to do. I want to keep him on Nekoma.”

“You really think he’s good enough to stay on your team?” Tadashi whispered.

“Without a doubt. In a few short months, I could have him playing as well as me if he would be motivated to practice. I’m not just saying that because of who he is to me—I saw it from the first couple weeks of school when I had no clue that he was my soulmate.”

“What is it that you’re asking of me exactly?”

“Push him to stay on Nekoma and practice—help him love volleyball this week.”

“I’m not sure that’s possible,” Yamaguchi said.

“Please, Yamaguchi-san—just one or two positive words could change everything.”

“I’ll try, but I won’t make any promises.”

“Thank you.” He patted Yamaguchi on the shoulder. “I appreciate it.”

“Can I ask you a question?” He held up a hand to Sugawara indicating he needed a minute more when the latter called his name for practice.

“Anything,” Kuroo reassured.

“If you were to scent Tsukishima, and he wanted to override it with another alpha’s scent, would you be okay with suffering through the consequences of that choice?”

Kuroo swallowed thickly. He considered the question many times previously, but none of his answers ever came with the conviction he had at that moment. “A thousand times over if I had to.”

“Okay. I’ll see what I can do.” With that, Yamaguchi turned on his heel and hopped back into the gym, apologizing for the delay.

Nekomata caught Kuroo on his way to the third gym and assigned Lev to him for additional receive practice. He tried to explain his prior commitment to the coach with the intent of passing the giant to Yaku, but it was unsuccessful. That was how Kuroo found himself doing something akin to the walk of shame as he led Lev to their private third gym.

“Kuroo-san, you’re here. Oh—” Akaashi immediately puttered out as he saw Lev behind the captain. “You brought someone else.”

“Coach said I needed to drill him on receives more, so I’m going to do that over there.” He pointed at the area behind the court. “Tsukishima can block jumps against Bokuto.”

Akaashi raised a curious eyebrow. “You’re pinning that on him knowing Bokuto’s practice is endless?” He smiled at Tsukishima. “I’ll protect you from him though if he gets carried away.”

“I can just leave if that makes it easier for you,” Tsukishima said quietly.

“No!” Kuroo, Bokuto, and Akaashi all said together, startling him.

“You’re already solid on receives, so this is a good opportunity to practice. Plus, you lost the bet we made. If you go back on our deal, I’ll have to come up with some other consequence,” Kuroo said.

Tsukishima frowned and turned away from him. He didn’t say he would block, but he nodded to Akaashi who tossed a ball to Bokuto to put up.

“I can practice blocking, too,” Lev volunteered.

“No, you need to get the basics first. Nekoma can’t make plays without the ball first going up to our setter, and you can barely get under the ball most of the time.”

“That clearly doesn’t matter to the coaches considering I’ve already replaced Tsukishima in games.”

Kuroo clenched his fists. “Yeah? You think so? Because Nekomata-sensei literally told me to drill you until you break, so I hope you’re prepared.”

“Eh?”

The ball from a particularly brutal hit landed between them.

“Good block, Tsukishima,” Akaashi complimented. “You’ve learned a lot from Kuroo! That was a great time to use a soft block.”

“How’d you know I was going to do a straight there? That’s so unfair,” Bokuto whined.

Kuroo grinned. “Not even you could do what he just did. Our coaches are blind to real talent.” He held up the ball. “Hope you remember the proper stance for receives.”

They were there for around thirty minutes, by Tsukishima’s estimate, before the exhaustion started to wear on him. He could feel himself breathing heavier and jumping lower, and he could tell Akaashi noticed with plans to wind his boyfriend down.

Bokuto cheered as he passed off another hit against Tsukishima.

“You beat all of one blocker,” Akaashi celebrated with an eye roll. “How about just three more hits then we take a break.”

“And you can try against two blockers,” Kuroo stepped up next to Tsukishima.

Surprised, the latter turned to look at Lev who was laying face down on the gym floor in a pool of his own sweat. For a moment, the hopeful thought of, Is he dead? made his heart momentarily leap into his throat. It was too good to be true.

Kuroo leaned in close to Tsukishima to whisper, “Make sure you keep his straight in check.”

He nodded, forcing himself not to take a step away despite how the closeness made pain prick his stomach. He wanted to throw up and lean into Kuroo’s scent all at once in a horrible cacophony of not knowing how to interact with his captain.

Akaashi set the ball. Kuroo and Tsukishima jumped, and Kuroo moved his block at the last second to successfully stop Bokuto’s cross. Kuroo cheered, ribbing Bokuto further as Tsukishima considered what happened a little slack jawed.

“You know, Tsukishima. I’ve noticed something about the way you play. You’re really good at reading. You have a sharp mind, but your blocks in general are weak. You’re so skinny that whenever I see your arms in front of me, I’m reminded of how frail they are, and I’m worried that I’ll break them with my spike,” Bokuto said.

Tsukishima glared through the net at him.

“I can see why Kuroo wanted you to practice your blocks, because you need to do it like you mean it.”

Kuroo was frantically gesturing for a time-out just out of Tsukishima’s peripheral vision while Akaashi shook his head waiting for the explosion.

“I’m still a growing boy,” Tsukishima mumbled. “Omegas aren’t known for their muscle or brawn, and I’ve only started developing some from exercise. It happens slower for people like me.”

Kuroo, a little caught off guard by the comeback and lack of venom, responded without thinking his words over. The collection of observations he made about Tsukishima spilled across the floor in front of them. “I don’t know. On Karasuno, Yamaguchi plays with that shrimpy omega who has quite a bit of muscle and prowess. You need to eat more balanced meals, otherwise I could see you losing out on opportunities. We play the same position, after all.”

Any brief positive emotions that flickered across Tsukishima’s face while they practiced vanished. The apathetic, unemotional expression he adopted since the scenting reemerged.

“There’s always outliers to the rule in science, but they don’t count against the majority. Omegas are known for their frailty and lack of muscle definition. Isn’t it normal that we would eventually be out played?”

“No one’s tosses will ever be better for me than Akaashi’s,” Bokuto defended.

“That’s because he’s your soulmate. Nothing can compare, but in general, we could be outpaced by an alpha with a modicum of talent. I’ve seen that happen often—even to alphas. It’s pointless to keep pushing yourself when you’ve found your limit. There’s always someone better. Even you’re only ranked fourth in the nation for high schoolers, right? Reaching the top is impossible. The difference in natural talent is just too much to try and close the gap.”

Kuroo opened his mouth to respond, but he was cut-off by Yaku and Inuoka entering asking if they could join. Yaku noticed the tension immediately, and his eyes moved between Kuroo and Tsukishima against Bokuto and Akaashi and Lev laying on the floor.

“Oi, Lev. Why aren’t you practicing receives? Get up.”

“Geh! Yaku-san.”

“What’s with that reaction?”

“I’ll definitely practice spikes with you all if that’s what you’re doing,” Inuoka gave them a wide grin.

“We’re not actually—” Kuroo tried to say.

“I can practice blocks, too!” Lev tried again.

“It appears that I’m going to be in the way. Hopefully this fulfills my punishment for losing the bet since I did do extra practice. I’ll make sure I’m more careful with wagers in the future. I’ll be leaving first.” Tsukishima turned his back on Kuroo.

“Oi!” Kuroo called, but Inuoka stepped between them asking about practice and kept him from going after Tsukishima.

“We somehow stepped on the landmine again,” Akaashi said. “I thought I was finally understanding him a bit more.”

“It’s interesting watching the Master of Provocation fail so often with his mate. I’ve never seen it happen like this with anyone else,” Bokuto said. “It’s like a whole new world to navigate.”

“Soulmates are supposed to complement us in the best ways, so maybe it’s teaching Kuroo-san that he needs to be just a little less of this side of his personality,” Akaashi suggested.

“I never would have thought someone as smart as him would think that so many people are above him. He sees challenges as proof that he’s not good enough when he has all the basic techniques and is quite strong on his own. It’s like he can’t see any of that about himself, so he just assumes that when he fails, it was predestined instead of something to overcome.” Kuroo swallowed, chewing his tongue. “I think I understand how to talk to Tsukishima and work with him—if he’s willing.”

“Oh?” Bokuto perked up. “If you can manage it, he’s way more fun to play against than you.”

Kuroo sent him a half-hearted glare. “I need more information. I wonder if Karasuno knows anything.”

Chapter Text

“Yo,” Yamamoto said at breakfast the next morning. Tsukishima looked up startled at the alpha who he barely talked to.

Kei couldn’t even form words to ask why he chose to join him suddenly.

“I know we don’t talk much, thought we could change that.”

“Why?” Tsukishima blurted out.

Yamamoto shrugged. He could practically feel Kuroo’s gaze boring into him and making his skin crawl. “You seem like a cool dude, and honestly, Lev is annoying me when I sit at the regular Nekoma table.”

“He does seem to have that quality,” Tsukishima pushed the food around on his plate and took a small bite hoping it would look like he ate more.

“You really should eat more food.”

He blushed at being called out almost immediately.

“Volleyball expends a lot of energy, and you need the calories to fuel you.”

Tsukishima snorted. “I don’t even see any games on the court, why do I need to eat my own weight in rice?”

Yamamoto hummed and rested his face against a closed fist as he stared at Tsukishima. “I don’t get why the coaches won’t play you.”

“I’m just not good enough,” Tsukishima whispered.

“That’s the thing, you are good enough,” he said. “The whole team knows it—other than Lev. He’s a real jackass about it, bragging. I think his ego was bruised or something when they put him on second string after try-outs. Even Kenma said the other day you were a better player than Lev. I think we could win more games with you on the court.”

Tsukishima pushed a fake smile onto his face. “The coaches disagree.” He gestured to the scent patches. “I’m a liability and a wild card with this going on still.”

“Some people on the team might care, but I don’t.” Yamamoto shrugged. “Even when you’re sad, your scent is still nice. Kind of miss it in the gym.”

Tsukishima stared at him with wide eyes like a deer caught in headlights.

Yamamoto turned a furious shade of red. His chopsticks clattered to the table as he put up his hands. “I don’t mean it like that. I’m not attracted to you or anything. Although, that just makes it sound like I am. Fuck. Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Tsukishima mumbled. He took a few more small bites and tried to fold in on himself to disguise the pink creeping along his neck and cheeks.

“I just mean you’re a lot nicer to play with than Lev even with your prickly attitude.”

Tsukishima’s good will toward Yamamoto soured almost immediately, and he glared at the other.

“Tsukki?” Yamaguchi asked curiously as he turned up for breakfast late, clutching his tray.

“Yamaguchi, this is my teammate, Yamamoto Taketora,” he introduced. “He decided to sit with us this morning to avoid Lev.”

“Ah,” Yamaguchi slid into the seat next to his best friend. “From what I understand from Tsukki, that’s a good choice.”

Yamamoto laughed loudly, catching a few more curious eyes. “You know how to sugar coat your words. You’re careful about people. I like that.”

“He’s being very complimentary this morning. I’ve never had a conversation this long with him before,” Tsukishima said.

“Oi,” Yamamoto protested.

“What are you discussing other than Lev?” Tadashi asked tearing into his breakfast, clearly ravenous.

“I was telling Tsukishima that I wish the coaches would play him on the court more often,” Yamamoto said around a mouthful of food. “Which, I was thinking of putting up a bit of a fight to have you play today. I’m tired of dealing with Lev crashing into everything and everyone. I think a few of the others would also back me up, but the key is that we start the fight for you over him.”

“You don’t have to do that,” he said. “If the coaches don’t want to play me, then they don’t want to. I’ve already comes to terms with their decision, and I know what comes next.”

“You think they’re gonna cut you from the team,” Yamamoto’s eyes narrowed. “They wouldn’t do that. They know your talent. Knew it from the first day.”

Kei scoffed. “I already know they plan to cut me. Overheard them talking about it—and Kuroo-san knows, too. It’s a matter of time before I’m gone from the team.”

“What? Why? It can’t be because of your scent. You have no control over that.”

He shrugged. “They just don’t think I’m good enough.”

“If anything, all you lack is drive—and it’s kind of hard to have that without having an opportunity to play.” Yamamoto crossed his arms and glared at the mostly full plate of food Tsukishima had in front of him. “Do you want to play?”

Tsukishima shrugged. Some part of him screamed ‘yes’ so emphatically that it nearly slipped out of his mouth, but the dread, pain, and reality seeped in quickly enough to suppress it in the almighty ‘no’ of apathy. “I really don’t care either way. I’m just accepting things as they come.”

“Well, I’ll fight for you to play today. Since that is obviously going to cause it to happen, you need to eat everything on your plate.”

“What are you, my mom?” Tsukishima asked.

“Could be,” he grinned. “Need me to feed it to you? I have some younger cousins, and I know how to do a sick airplane sound.”

Kei gave him the most annoyed deadpan look he could muster while Yamaguchi cracked up next to him. He shoveled a few more bites into his mouth at once. They tasted like cardboard.

“It’s always the threat of the airplane that gets them eating, too.” He took on a smug quality. “Hope you’re ready to kick some ass today.”

“Coach, I think it would be more beneficial for the team if we practiced with Tsukishima more,” Yamamoto said as they announced the morning line up. “I understand that Lev has potential for the future, but Tsukishima is supposed to be our here and now for tournaments until next year when we don’t have Kuroo. You’ve been letting Inuoka play because he’s going to replace Kai, and even Shibayama has practiced in Yaku’s place. If we want to go to nationals this fall, we need Tsukishima.”

Naoi visibly sighed. “Perhaps this afternoon. We’re going to use the announced players for the morning.”

“I’m sorry,” Yamamoto whispered.

“I told you this morning it doesn’t matter. I’ve already accepted it.” Tsukishima shrugged. “Thank you for trying, but you don’t have to. I don’t care what the coaches choose to do.”

“Why?” Yamamoto leaned in closer.

Kei pursed his lips. “I haven’t told anyone, but I have a resignation form already in my bag for when they ask me to quit.”

“Tsukishima.” His hand flew out suddenly and grabbed the omega’s upper arm. He sucked in a startled breath as Yamamoto continued, “You can’t.”

“Pretty sure I can.”

“But—” he spluttered louder than before, catching the attention of several others on the team.

Kenma’s mouth turned to a deeper frown as he trailed Yamamoto’s hand placement with his eyes. Kuroo had his fists clenched behind his back as he fought to stop himself from intervening.

“I told you, it’s fine.” Tsukishima pulled his arm free. “Go practice. If we lose, then I get to practice, too—in the form of the punishment.”

“Don’t give me motivation to lose,” Yamamoto hissed making Tsukishima laugh—something rich and unheard of in their team practices. It was so unfamiliar that it brought everything to a halt. Even Yamaguchi looked up startled from across the gym, and Akaashi and Bokuto looked on with almost identical open-mouthed shock.

“Warui, warui,” Tsukishima covered his mouth. “I’ve never heard Yamaoto-san say something that funny before.”

“I wasn’t even trying,” he said. “It wasn’t a joke.”

“I’m going to get some water,” Tsukishima excused himself.

“I can’t remember the last time he laughed,” Yaku whispered.

Kuroo took several deep breaths trying to keep his mind from fantasizing about ripping Yamamoto’s head off. Kenma would not be happy with him if he did.

“I think he’s healing,” Kenma said. Kuroo took comfort in the way he also sounded disgruntled about the closeness between the two and how it had been his soulmate who made Tsukishima laugh. There was a now all-too-familiar pain fluttering in his chest.

“Would be nice if it was because of me, not someone else,” Kuroo mumbled.

“Maybe if we lose, the coaches will put Tsukishima in?” Yaku suggested to push them onto the court.

They all knew the real problem was that it didn’t matter how many games they won or lost—as proved by the previous day. The coaches didn’t think Tsukishima was good enough to play, so he didn’t. Their record meant nothing.

Chapter Text

Nekoma lost several games that morning, and the heat rose astronomically. Yaku paused on the run as Tsukishima almost collapsed from the heat behind him, but the latter waved him off saying he just needed to take a small breather. It’s only after he completed the hill and returned to the bottom that he saw Kuroo, who ran without issue, watching him carefully. He held out a cold water bottle and ushered him into the shade and semi-air-conditioned gymnasium. An early morning break was called as one of the parents from Shinzen dropped off a large order of watermelon to help cool them.

Kuroo approached the Karasuno team, who opted to sit together. Yamaguchi was the only player not with the team as he sat next to Tsukishima and Akaashi in the shade from the gym.

“How’s the training camp for you all so far?” Kuroo asked.

“It’s definitely putting a lot of pressure on us to improve!” Daichi laughed. “I’ve never seen my team so driven, so I’m really excited about the upcoming games. I think we’ll see a big improvement among us on the court.”

“You definitely will,” Kuroo agreed. “Everyone’s talking about how fun it is to play against you because we’re never quite sure what will happen. Gives us a chance to break old habits.”

“How come your coach isn’t playing Tsukishima as much anymore?” Asahi asked.

Kuroo sunk to the grassy hill with a pained smile. “There was an incident, several of them. We overhead them talking the other night about their intention to cut him because of those issues. I don’t think it’s right, and several of us on the team are pushing back and asking for him to play, but they aren’t listening.”

“Poor Tsukishima,” Asahi whispered. “Does he know?”

“Yes.” Kuroo pressed his water bottle to his lips and took a long drink. “We’re all just waiting for the hammer to fall.”

“Ya know, my sister mentioned knowing a Tsukishima when she was in school.”

“Oh? How did that name come up?” Daichi asked.

“It was after the golden week training camp where you all came up to Miyagi. I was telling nee-chan about the game, and I mentioned how we met Yamaguchi’s friend who would’ve been on our team if things went differently. She thought there was someone by that name in her year at school—during the years of the Little Giant—and how there was some kind of blow-out on the team. His name was tied up in the rumors.”

Sugawara hummed. “Maybe some of Tsukishima-san’s problems is tied up in that. If they are actually related and your sister’s memory can be trusted.”

“I think that’s the kind of thing I would have to leave him to work out.” Kuroo sipped his water bottle. “I figure I just have to wait it out and do my best to push him in the right direction. I keep hoping everything will resolve swiftly.”

“We do wish you luck. Rivals are only fun to play against when they’re at their strongest,” Daichi said.

“I appreciate the sentiment,” Kuroo laughed. “I wish your team the best as you develop your new strategies as well. You’ll make for an interesting opponent at nationals.”

“Assuming we get that far,” Asahi lamented.

“No negative goatee!” Suga yelled sending a karate chop directly into Asahi’s stomach.

Azumane whined under the force and subsequent pain asking Sugawara to leave him alone while Nishinoya yelled at him for hurting his mate.

Kuroo’s grin cocked to the side. “I don’t think you getting to Nationals will be a problem—well, I mean, you do have to face Ushijima, but I think you all have a chance of beating them with what you’re practicing. I just have a feeling that the Battle of the Garbage Dump is going to happen. I’ll make sure it happens with Tsukishima on the court. We want both our teams to be at full strength after all.”

The coaches called for their return to the gym.

“Thanks for the chat, crows!”

Nekomata watched Tsukishima play in the first afternoon game after more insistent begging from Yamamoto. He watched him jump blocks trying to figure out exactly why him playing bothered him so much. Tsukishima wasn’t terrible by any means, but he could sense that the omega wasn’t suited to play for Nekoma. He crossed his arms. On the next block it came to him. He leaned into Naoi-sensei and pointed to Tsukishima.

“I’ve figured out the reason why Tsukishima needs to be cut,” he said.

Kuroo turned his head slightly toward the coach, curious, but attempting to hide that he was listening.

“Oh?” Naoi was annoyed the old coach brought it up again.

“His play style is similar to how he handles his grades. It’s not that he isn’t good, it’s just that he never tries for one hundred percent. He’s always looking for what he needs to do to pass and pass well, but he doesn’t try to reach higher. Our team is all about potential and hard work, and Lev has shown more dedication to those ideals than Tsukishima-kun has.”

Naoi watched the next several blocks without speaking, but he finally did as it became Kuroo’s turn to rotate into the front line on Tsukishima’s serve. “I see what you mean.”

“The sooner we cut him the better,” Nekomata said softly. “Rip the band-aid off cleanly.”

“If he showed more initiative, I’m sure we could keep him,” Naoi defended.

“How long are you willing to hold onto a player like him? Do you plan on working with him one-on-one?” Nekomata asked.

“I’m not sure. I just feel like I can sense something else beneath the surface. I’m not sure whether it’s that he might be a danger to himself if we cut him or if it’s a dormant power waiting to be awoken. I hope for the latter, and I want to find out if it’s true.”

Nekomata hummed. “I suppose I’ll have to continue to humor you. I won’t mention it again, but I will wait for your decision.”

Chapter Text

“Yo, Tsukki!” Bokuto called after the general practice ended. “You’re joining us for practice tonight, right? Your blocks are super fun to play against.”

“You literally told me last night that you think my arms are so frail, you’ll break them,” Tsukishima countered.

“Well, yeah! But even with your weak arms, you’re way more fun to play against as a blocker.”

“No thanks,” he declined picking up his sweat towel from the bench.

Bokuto made a disappointed noise before turning to his next victim. “Yo, Kuroo!”

“Ugh,” Kuroo voiced his malcontent, bringing a brief hidden smile to Tsukishima’s lips.

“Eh?” The shrimpy, orange-haired omega from Karasuno jumped in front of him.

Tsukishima begrudgingly remembered his name was Hinata and he was soulmate pair to the setter Kageyama. He frowned at the onslaught of knowledge imparted by Yamaguchi. He had no desire to remember Karasuno’s team member names when he had nothing to do with them on a regular basis.

“You don’t want to practice with Bokuto-san? That’s such a waste. If he invited me, I’d be all over it. He’s a top spiker in Japan, you know!”

“I’m aware.” Tsukishima glared at him until Hinata left grumbling complaints under his breath.

Yamaguchi watched Tsukishima leave with a small frown. “Say, Hinata,” he said. “What would you say to Tsukki if you were in my position? Like you did with Kageyama.”

Hinata thought for a moment, spinning a ball between his fingers. “I don’t know. I only know a little about him from what you’ve told us in the first place—but even from just this training camp—I mean, how do I say it? —It doesn’t seem like Tsukishima is really interested in actually playing volleyball. You mentioned off hand that he had a resignation form, right? If he doesn’t want to play, I’m not sure there’s anything you can say. I can only speak to Kageyama the way I do because I know how invested in this sport he is.” Hinata’s eyes trailed wistfully to Kageyama who insisted on practicing alone, with Yachi. The jealousy ate at him more, and he pursed his lips. “Tsukishima’s height feels like such a waste on him since he doesn’t want to play. I think what matters more is, what would you want to say to him Yamaguchi? You’re his best friend.”

He considered the question carefully. He’d done a lot of listening to Tsukishima over the past few months, but he never really said what he thought about the situation at all. Yamaguchi knew all of it sucked, and he tried to be understanding, but what Hinata said was very true about his best friend as well. He never seemed eager to play volleyball after the incident with Akiteru. It wasn’t like when they were kids, and he had an innate drive to be better. It wasn’t like when he stood up to the bullies that broke his arm in defense of omegas. He’d broken and accepted a lesser role because of his sub gender and that impacted every other decision along the way. Going to two different high schools, they grew apart despite talking almost nearly every day.

Yamaguchi might still be able to say something before he lost his best friend forever—but there was only one opportunity to do it. It had to be that moment.

His feet moved before he really realized his thoughts. The solid pounding of the concrete under his feet steadied him. He was breathing heavy from adrenaline when he saw Tsukishima’s slouched back slowly moving toward the temporary dorms.

“Tsukki!” His shout came out strangled, but Tsukishima turned, startled.

“What?” he asked softly.

“Tsukki, you were always able to do anything while being cool and smart, so I’ve always been jealous.”

“And?”

“But you’re being lame lately, Tsukki! On my team, Hinata might become the Little Giant someday. On your team, Lev might actually learn how to play properly and beat you with skill—but that just means you need to become an even better player than them and prove your natural talent and skills! You just have to beat them all. I know experiencing soulmate rejection hurt you, but don’t you want to prove to whoever it is that they made a mistake? You’re worth so much, Tsukki. Nekoma believes in you—they want you on their team, and they’re fighting for you with the coaches. You have the height, brains, and instinct, so why do you decide that getting any better is impossible?”

Tsukishima gritted his teeth. Yamaguchi hit every sore point that he cared to admit existed inside him. He balled his fists, and the shouting response burst from him before he could control it. “Even if worked really hard and became the best player on Nekoma, what would happen after that? Even if there’s a tiny chance we make it to nationals, what happens after that? No matter how high you climb, there’s always someone better. I’ve seen that with my soulmate—someone was already better than me. Even if you are able to show some results somewhere, you’ll never actually be number one! I’m not number one. You’re going to lose somewhere! I already lost. You know all of this—all of them do, so how can you keep going?!”

“What else do we need besides pride?!” Yamaguchi balled his fists in Tsukishima’s shirt and shook him, attempting to throw him with some minimal force.

Tsukishima stumbled back. All the anger deflated out of him. He slumped, and a soft laugh spilled from his lips.

Yamaguchi looked up at him startled.

Tsukishima spoke quietly, “To think this day would come… When did you become so cool? You’re actually cool. I just can’t accept what you said. Not yet.” He straightened and pulled Yamaguchi’s hands from his shirt. “I’m going to ask some people a few questions.”

“Tsukki?” Yamaguchi asked in a weak squeak.

“I’m okay. I’ll catch up with you later, yeah?”

“Un.” Yamaguchi watched him walk away. His brow still furrowed in confusion.

Tsukishima’s feet carried him toward where he wanted to be. He hesitated at the bottom of the steps staring at the third gym sign. After seven long breaths that he counted, he hesitantly climbed the steps into the gym. He stood on the threshold watching Kuroo block against Bokuto. He tugged uncomfortably on his fingers. As they turned for another rally, Akaashi noticed him.

“Oya?”

Bokuto perked up immediately and responded before turning to see Tsukishima. “Oya oya?”

“Oya oya oya,” Kuroo laughed before stopping immediately when he saw Tsukishima standing in the doorway. It took him a moment to gather himself before he quietly said, “Hey. Did you change your mind or something?” His hand launched uncomfortably to the back of his hair.

“There’s something I’d like to ask you. May I?” Tsukishima barely spoke above a whisper, but the quiet of the gym provided a natural microphone to his voice.

“Sure,” Bokuto and Kuroo volunteered together. The latter gave a small glare to his friend who looked sheepish at automatically including himself.

“I’m really sorry for interrupting your practice but thank you.” He dropped his eyes to the floor and tugged harder at his fingers. A moment later he tried to hide the nervous tick. “Bokuto-san’s team and ours are both moderately strong, maybe? Even if either of us made it to nationals, it would be incredibly difficult for us to come out on top, right?”

“It’s not like it’s impossible!” Bokuto crossed his arm, and his lower lip turned downward into a pout.

“Let’s hear him out. He’s talking hypothetically,” Akaashi whispered. He itched to reach out and rub his arm, but he knew the PDA bothered Tsukishima, so he held himself back.

“I’m genuinely curious. Why would you go to such lengths?” He looked up. “Volleyball is only a club, so the only merit in it is being able to write ‘I worked hard in club activities during my student years’ on a job application, right? I could do that with any club.”

“You could,” Kuroo agreed hesitantly.

“It kind of sounds like a name,” Bokuto said, holding up a finger. “Just a club.”

“Like Mary Club?” Kuroo quirked an eyebrow in the air.

Tsukishima exchanged a confused look with Akaashi who only shook his head to tell him to leave it be. He considered leaving the gym and trying to find an answer elsewhere (though he had no idea where to go) when Bokuto agreed it wasn’t a name and turned back to him.

“Tsukki,” he said.

“Tsukishima, please.”

Bokuto tilted his head as if considering. “Tsukishima-kun~” he drawled. “Do you even enjoy playing volleyball?”

Kuroo visibly startled at the question. Tsukishima frowned and dropped his gaze again. Guilt settled around him, and he tightened his grip on his fingers, cutting off the blood flow. His fingers turned a faint purple color. He couldn’t come up with an answer. He was choking back frustrated tears and wanted to leave.

“Well, I’ve gone to the nationals for three years and I’m absolutely positively better at this than you! But it was only recently that I started to think volleyball was ‘enjoyable’. And that’s because my ‘straight spike’ became usable in actual matches. The cross spike that was originally my specialty kept getting stopped cold. I was so damn frustrating, so I kept practicing my straight spike, and then in the next competition those same opponents who blocked me before couldn’t even touch the straight I drove past them. With that one hit, it felt like my time had come. It’s a matter of whether that moment exists for you or not. What will happen in the future and whether or not you can win the next match, for once, none of that matters. Crushing the guys in front of you, and the amazing feelings of having shown one-hundred and twenty percent of your strength are everything.” He paused his monologue. “Well, that just in my case, so it’s not like It would apply to everyone. That whole ‘only a club’ thing you were saying doesn’t really mean anything to me, but I don’t think it’s wrong. Still, if you experience that moment, it’ll really get you hooked on volleyball.”

The gym was quiet for a long moment.

Finally, Akaashi said, “That was quite profound, Bokuto-san. You should try to be more like that for your schoolwork.”

“Geh,” Bokuto cringed away. “Akaashi!”

Tsukishima swallowed uncomfortably. He wished to leave again, but before he had the chance, Bokuto turned around.

“Now, since I answered your question. Come block for me.” He wrapped an arm around Tsukishima’s shoulders and pushed him toward the net. “It’s only fair. I’m not joking about you being good practice, though. You’re only second to Kuroo when it comes to blockers that I don’t like to play against. That’s why you make the perfect practice.” Once he was standing at the net, Bokuto let go of him and slipped underneath to the other side. “You should start coming on the weekends again. It’s way more fun with you there.”

“Um,” Tsukishima said. He wasn’t quite sure how to respond.

“Akaashi! Send me a toss.”

Before Tsukishima really had a chance to process exactly what was happening, the ball was flying through the air, and he had no choice but to jump or let it sail over his head in protest. A warm body was next to him in an instant as he jumped, and the double-block against Bokuto rose above his spiking point. He cursed and made it bounce back off their block to go for a second hit.

“Put more power into the very tips of your fingers, so the ball won’t blow past,” Kuroo whispered. “Extend your hands out in front of you when you jump. Don’t raise them directly above you.”

Tsukishima tried to correct his stance as Bokuto started running toward the net. He jumped, hands extended more in front of him. A moment later, Kuroo shoved his arms to the side and blocked the cross-shot Bokuto tried to go for.

Kuroo laughed and shouted, “And make this noisy-ass owl shut up!”

“I’d like to see you try!” Bokuto taunted.

“He just did.” Akaashi rolled his eyes. “They’re so brash when they’re together.”

“I remember,” Tsukishima agreed.

“I am glad you’re back to practice with us. Even if it’s just for one evening,” Akaashi said.

“We’ll probably be interrupted by Nekoma team members like before. Kuroo-san attracts people.” Tsukishima picked at some dirt under his nail.

“Bokuto-san is the same way, but I don’t think we’ll be interrupted tonight.”

“Really? Why?”

Akaashi pursed his lips. “Kuroo mentioned something about the coach dragging most of them into some training drills. The ones he didn’t catch were Kuroo who he excused to practice with us, and a few others.”

“Like me,” Tsukishima sighed. “Because he doesn’t see value in training me anymore.”

Akaashi cringed.

“I already know. Heard it straight from his lips.” He quietly watched Bokuto and Kuroo play wrestle—a drastic escalation to Kuroo’s earlier insult. “Although, I think I want to try.”

Akaashi suddenly grabbed both of Tsukishima’s hands. His eyes were bright as he said, “Really?” louder than he meant to.

“I—I don’t know. It—It’s just that Yamaguchi said something to me earlier—then Bokuto-san said—and I thought—I’m not sure.”

“Let’s practice a few more tosses. With Kuroo’s help, I’m sure you can block almost all Bokuto’s hits by the end of the night.”

“Hey!” Bokuto protested. “I’m not that weak. I’m a top five spiker!”

Akaashi rolled his eyes. “It’s not about being weak, Bokuto-san.”

“Akaaaaashi~” he whined.

“Let me teach you something,” Kuroo said waving for Tsukishima to join him on the opposite side of the court. “Bokuto has a funny habit about his hits. If you can shut down his straight, he’ll go for a cross. He’s not terribly diverse, but his power is what hits the hardest. The key with Bokuto is to shut down one of the options and shift at the last moment to cover it or allow those behind you to have your back.”

“We have no one behind us currently, Kuroo-san,” Tsukishima said.

Kuroo gave him a sly grin. “I’m at your back, Tsukki.”

“Don’t call me that,” he said.

“So, Tsukishima,” Kuroo drawled out his name in retaliation, and Kei leveled him with an annoyed glare. “You’ll be proving how much you trust me on the court because you’re blocking, and I’m receiving. Hopefully your setting skills are decent, or we might not score any points.”

“You’re not going to block?” He pointed awkwardly at the net where Akaashi was getting Bokuto back under control to practice spikes. It involved far more physical touch than he was comfortable watching, and he kept his back turned to them.

“Nope.” Kuroo stepped back another foot. “You’ve got all the information you need to play against Bokuto. I’m leaving it up to you to put together.”

Tsukishima pursed his lips. He wanted to level Kuroo with a glare, but he thought that wouldn’t go over well since he was the captain. Frustration swept over him, and his muscles started to tense.

“Hey,” Kuroo was suddenly at his shoulder again. “Don’t overthink it.”

Tsukishima shook his head. “I can’t block Bokuto-san on my own.”

“You can.” Kuroo held out a hand. “Here.”

“What?” Tsukishima stared at the offered hand.

“Platonic team scenting. It might help.”

“We’ve never done that before.” Tsukishima’s eyes were blown wide with a hint of fear.

Kuroo raised a hand to the back of his neck, and the thought flitted through his mind that he did that a lot more recently, and he needed to stop. “Nekoma isn’t exactly the most cuddly team in the world—but some teams will do it before big matches to help dull scents with each other and possibly confuse opponents.”

“And you think Bokuto-san is going to somehow confuse our scents.”

“I thought it might calm you down.” Kuroo shrugged trying to pass it off as nothing. “You’re clearly uncomfortable with the idea of it, so it’s not a big deal.”

“You just caught me off guard,” Tsukishima mumbled.

Kuroo watched him, cautiously. “You don’t have to force yourself.”

He fidgeted in place. He didn’t notice how quiet Bokuto and Akaashi went behind him.

“I’d have to take off my scent patches—and everyone would know. Everything. They’d assume weird things.”

Kuroo didn’t say anything.

Impossibly quieter, he said, “You don’t like smelling like me, anyway.”

Kuroo bit his tongue to keep from letting his frustration show. “I wouldn’t have suggested it if I wasn’t okay with every outcome. Don’t worry, I’m not insulted.” He was. “I legitimately thought it might help you feel a little better about blocking.”

Tsukishima frowned. “How on Earth is you scenting me going to help me block?”

Now spilling over and thoroughly embarrassed, Kuroo’s reply came out harsher than he meant it. “Scenting helps calm nerves. Everyone knows that. If you didn’t want to, just say ‘no.’”

Akaashi leveled him with a glare, and he pulled away entirely with an apology.

Tsukishima blinked several times to try and process what happened, but he couldn’t make heads or tails of it. He had been nervous, but he didn’t think his reaction warranted Kuroo offering to scent him when he’d never done something like that before. He’d been more nervous and more detrimental to the team in games with real stakes—but Kuroo proved then he didn’t actually want to smell like Tsukishima, so why would he offer then? He turned slowly to face the net. Bokuto watched them with his head tilted and a puzzled expression on his face while Akaashi had his usual perfectly schooled expression where no one (other than Bokuto) was confident they could tell what he was thinking. He did give Tsukishima a confused shrug to say he also had no clue.

They played for another hour before Akaashi convinced them to go to dinner. During that time, Tsukishima made several solid blocks against Bokuto, and Kuroo generally picked up the ones he couldn’t stop. Kei didn’t make a terrible setter, but Bokuto and Akaashi managed to eke out a slim victory.

“Same time tomorrow?” Bokuto asked as they cleaned up the balls for the night. The three looked at Tsukishima.

He quelled under their expectant stares before cautiously, and extremely quietly, agreeing to return the next night to practice more.

Chapter Text

Most of the omegas in the designated sleeping area were already asleep. Kenma went to bed a few minutes before after playing video games under the covers, but Tsukishima lay awake, staring at the ceiling, between an equally awake Yaku and Akaashi. Yamaguchi was asleep near his team who organized sleeping arrangements to stay together.

“Kuroo-san did something very strange during practice today,” he whispered.

“Stranger than he normally is?” Even in the dark and without his glasses on, he could tell Yaku quirked one eyebrow higher than the other.

“Yes.”

Yaku let out a soft whistle that could’ve been confused for a cartoon snoring owl. “What did he do?”

“He was making me play solo blocker against Bokuto-san while he received, and I felt a bit nervous. I told him I wouldn’t be able to stop Bokuto-san by myself, and he offered to scent me.”

“What?” Yaku said. “No way.”

“That is almost perfectly accurate from my perspective,” Akaashi corroborated.

“He offered to scent you because you were nervous,” Yaku repeated in monotone.

“Platonically, he said. He tried to pass it off as team bonding scenting we’ve never done before.”

“That makes literally no sense. Nekoma has never done team scenting before, and that’s usually only ever done right before a match.” Yaku rolled onto his side to look at Tsukishima. “What were you thinking when he asked?”

“I was taken aback at first. I had no idea what he was really suggesting. There was a brief moment where I almost let him do it.”

“Why?” Akaashi whispered.

“I’m not sure.” Tsukishima was glad it was dark, and they couldn’t see him blush. “He just seemed so sincere that it felt rude to decline.”

“Do you want Kuroo to scent you?” Yaku asked impossibly soft.

They lay in silence for a while listening to the hum of the air conditioner and the snoring of the other teenagers around them. A few people moved in their beds, and the floor creaked under their weight.

“Yes and no,” Tsukishima said. “I was really hurt even though I couldn’t explain why when Kenma-san overrode my scent. Something keeps pulling me back to him despite all of it, and I get frustrated by it every time.”

“Is it because you like him?” Akaashi asked.

Kei chuckled, but it sounded a bit sad. “I don’t even know how to think about that anymore either.”

“It’s probably close to the same way I feel about Lev—hesitant and not really knowing what to think. I mean, he is a first year like you, and I’m a third year. To top it off, I’m the omega in the relationship, and Lev is really annoying.”

“Understatement of the year,” Tsukishima huffed a soft laugh.

Yaku pursed his lips and tapped him softly on the arm, not enough to hurt. “That is my mate. I legitimately don’t know how to feel.”

“I’m glad there’s someone else who understands me—but Kuroo isn’t my soulmate like yours.” He rolled onto his side to face Akaashi.

“Maybe you are, and you don’t realize it?” Yaku said.

Tsukishima snorted. He couldn’t formulate a reply as his mind slipped further into the darkness. He yawned and knew no more until the next morning.

“I had an epiphany last night,” Kuroo said as soon as Yaku joined them in line for breakfast in the cafeteria.

“Oh?” Yaku asked. Inside, he chewed on his own decision to tell Kuroo something that the latter surely wouldn’t want to do.

“In order to convince the coaches to play Tsukishima more, we need to injure Lev. So, what’s an injury you can play with that he can’t?” Kuroo stared at him with such bright eyes that Yaku realized he was serious about his conclusion.

“You’re stupider than I thought,” he said without thinking as Kai and Kenma joined them.

“And here I didn’t think that was possible,” Kai chuckled.

“What’d he say this time?” Kenma immediately reached for his milk to keep Kuroo from retaliating.

“He suggested injuring Lev on purpose, and therefore me, just to have Tsukishima play.”

Kai considered it. “Not one of his weirder schemes. He himself has played with a number of injuries that Tsukishima sustained without saying a single word.”

“On that topic.” Yaku set his chopsticks neatly on the hashioki before staring directly at Kuroo. “You need to tell Tsukishima he’s your soulmate and apologize to him.”

Kuroo’s face drained of color, and Kenma paused eating to stare between them. Kai set down his chopsticks as well, and his face took on a pained expression as if waiting for the blowout.

“What?” Kuroo whispered.

“I’m serious. Last night I was talking with Tsukishima and Akaashi, and I realized something. He has no idea what to even think about you, and it’s turning into confused apathy. I think.” Yaku paused. “We’ve all been playing a dangerous game around our soulmates since we know, and they are none the wiser. He was really conflicted about you suddenly offering out of the blue to scent him—it threw him off a lot. He’s frustrated by how you pull him in just to push him away again. He’s not even entertaining the idea of you being his soulmate, and I think he might be pulling away forever after everything that’s happened.”

“It’s true,” Kenma said softly. “I don’t fully agree with Yaku’s analysis, but I was still awake when you were talking. I think he thought I was asleep, so I didn’t say anything. They talked for quite a while last night about you, and he did sound incredibly apathetic and annoyed if anyone suggested you were his soulmate. He was really hurt by what we did—and I know Yamamoto was hurt by it, too.”

Kuroo whined softly as the breath expelling from his chest caught awkwardly in his throat. “I can’t tell him.”

“Why not?” Kai asked. “You could come clean and apologize for everything—for affecting him like this. It is yours and Kenma’s faults after all. Of course, I’m complicit in that as well. I encouraged it because I didn’t have a grasp on the dynamics in the same way everyone else does. I should apologize to him as well.”

“What if I ruin him again?” Kuroo’s voice was barely audible. “What if telling him means he really hands in the resignation form and leaves? What if it even so much as permanently ruins how he plays if he does stay? What if he’s so mad at me he never talks to me again? What if he convinces his mom to change his school? Akaashi’s said to me before that he thought Tsukishima might try to kill himself, and Naoi-sensei has mentioned something similar. What if he really does it and leaves me behind? There’s so many things that could go way worse than they already are. I can’t take that risk right now. None of that even considers the power imbalance between him and me. I am the captain, and that comes with power that people don’t often think about. What if he feels pressured to be with me because of that? What if he feels like he’s forced to do something because I’m the captain and his soulmate? It isn’t right—and others will think the same thing. It’ll negatively affect him. It’ll never blow back on me. I’ve seen that now with how people think about omegas and alphas. The alpha captain with a first-year omega…” he drifted off. “We’re not ready for that—I’m not ready for that, and I also need to prioritize myself. Tsukishima matters, but we’re still two separate people, and we have to come to terms with what we want.”

“You could drive yourself mad with ‘What ifs’,” Kenma said. “But I get it, unfortunately.”

Yaku and Kai pursed their lips. The former crossed his arms and stared at the table, no longer interested in his breakfast. After a long break where none of them ate a single bite, Yaku said, “There is a lot of danger in revealing our secrets, but isn’t there also a danger in keeping them even longer?”

“Yes,” Kuroo whispered. “But I want to find the right time.”

Yaku sighed and picked up his chopsticks before half-heartedly moving the food around his plate in circles. “Is there truly a right time?”

Kenma shook his head and took a bite of tamagoyaki before pulling a face and chewing robotically. The food lost its charm and taste.

They ate quietly, none of them enjoying it for several minutes before Kuroo tried to pull the conversation back to the initial topic with none of his previous bravado.

“Please let me injure Lev? Just a little.”

“No. I don’t want to be in pain just so you can get Tsukishima on the court. Find another way.”

“I could go for a mild concussion. You have one almost all the time. You wouldn’t tell the difference.”

“Kuroo, shut up. Please.” Yaku flicked some rice in his direction.

Chapter Text

Tsukishima made sure he had all his things before heading to the third gym for additional practice that evening. He came to the decision as he watched the others play in the games that day that he wanted to be friends with Kuroo, Akaashi, and Bokuto. Akaashi said previously to already consider him a friend, but they hadn’t done much together. His relationship with Bokuto and Kuroo would obviously be different because they were both alphas, and the former was mated to Akaashi, but he thought he might be able to get along with them permanently. He would draw the line at scenting with alphas, no matter how much his heart ached to take Kuroo up on his offer from the previous night.

It simply wouldn’t work between alphas and omegas as evidenced by the previous incident with his scent. Kuroo had offered, but the truth (as he perceived it), boiled acid in his stomach all day over it. He knew Kuroo didn’t like his scent. He had Kenma cover it up at the first opportunity. He offered to be nice, or to do what he thought was correct, not because he genuinely wanted to form a team bond. He said it was okay to smell like Tsukishima at the camp, but he had a nagging feeling that he would’ve run directly to Kenma again if he had to smell like Tsukishima’s rotting strawberries scent for longer than five minutes. He couldn’t even stand his own scent—but it was clearing up. Slowly. He knew his next heat would be awful because of his soulmate rejection, but he thought he could handle that if his scent was back to normal.

The weird thing he did notice was that his sour scent was fading quicker than the doctor suggested it would, but he was okay with that outcome.

Tsukishima was so caught up in his thoughts about trying to form an authentic friendship and what that might look like that he didn’t notice the two sets of footsteps following him all the way to the third gym.

“Oh?” Bokuto perked up when he saw the group at the door. “Did you bring friends?”

Tsukishima whirled around, and his face fell into an immediate glare at Lev and Hinata.

“They’re not my friends.”

Lev squawked at the denial of friendship as apparently everyone on Nekoma was supposed to be friends, but Hinata had the decency to look sheepish at inviting himself to a group where he knew everyone only in passing.

Reluctantly, Kuroo didn’t send the pair away and let them join their practice for a three-on-three match. He decided to take Tsukishima and Lev for his team since they were all Nekoma players, and he could hopefully impart some knowledge about blocking on Lev—but he didn’t hold his breath considering his still sloppy receiving skills. Akaashi put up brief protest, but Hinata and Bokuto were a pair of spades as they ran to find playing positions that he sighed and accepted the reality of his team being significantly shorter than Kuroo’s.

On the first block, Tsukishima managed to scare Bokuto enough to force him into avoiding the block with a feint which immediately made Hinata’s eyes go shiny with greed. Kuroo laughed at his expense alighting an argument between the two. Tsukishima was grateful and took the moment to drink water. Akaashi was breaking down the play for Hinata who wanted to know more.

“Come on. Next round,” Kuroo called.

It was a short while later that Lev’s playing reduced Kuroo to fruitless shouting.

“LEV! I told you to look where the ball is going before you jump. READ BLOCKING.”

“Ah, right,” Lev said as he landed back on the floor after jumping wildly in front of Hinata. Akaashi set the ball neatly to Bokuto, and Tsukishima met him at the net. Because of his distance and angle, he jumped on a diagonal and completely missed the spike. Kuroo picked it up by diving to the floor.

“Don’t jump sideways,” Kuroo called much softer than he spoke to Lev. “Don’t settle for blocking just the best you can. The best way is to come to a full stop then jump straight up. Try and center your body against their blocking arm.”

Tsukishima bounced the ball over the net to the other team.

“Freeball!” Hinata yelled.

Akaashi put the ball up, and Tsukishima used the skills Kuroo told him to do. He read the toss would go to Hinata and came to a full stop before jumping straight up, aligning himself with his spiking arm. He blocked it with ease, and a self-satisfied smirk spread across his lips as Hinata made an annoyed noise. The ball hit the floor, and Kuroo gave a soft victorious chuckle that Tsukishima knew from their official games.

“See, Lev. That’s how you improve as a blocker. You immediately listen to feedback instead of ignoring it exists.”

Lev tried to put up protest against Tsukishima’s success when there was a new voice interrupting at the door.

“If you don’t finish up soon, you won’t get any dinner,” Shirofuku Yukie, a Fukurōdani manager, said.

Hinata and Lev immediately started yelling about food while Bokuto blinded her with a smile, “Thank you, Yukie-chan! You’re always taking care of us.”

She waved him off and exited to check the other gyms. Tsukishima helped pick up the rogue items spread around the gym, but he was interrupted by Kuroo’s arm wrapping around his shoulders.

“You did amazing tonight.”

“Uh, thanks,” he said.

“Really. If I can get you playing like that in front of the coaches, they’ll forget all about Lev.”

Tsukishima scoffed. “Highly doubt that.”

This time, Kuroo did ruffle his hair when he pulled away. “Have a little more faith in me, yeah? You’re great at volleyball even if you can’t see it yourself.”

He stood, frozen to the spot and smelling distinctly of juniper, clutching his volleyball bag and staring wide-eyed at Kuroo’s retreating back. It wasn’t until he disappeared through the door that Kei shook off the weird feeling and made his way toward the cafeteria in search of food.

Chapter Text

The next evening, Kuroo finally managed to convince Yamaguchi to part from Karasuno and participate in extra practice with them in gym three. Bokuto invited Hinata and Lev to join them again, so Kuroo made sure that Yaku could be there to even the numbers and also torture Lev.

Yaku gave Kuroo a fierce scowl when he claimed Yamaguchi for his team, further cementing the height difference between them. “Really?”

“Their team has no one who is focused on receives!” Kuroo argued. “Bokuto’s the main spiker, so he obviously needs to be at the net. Hinata is a mixed bag of tricks that hasn’t really come together yet. This side has me to receive, so they need you. Otherwise, all the rallies will end in points for us. That simply wouldn’t be fair.”

“As if the fact you are all approaching two meters won’t also affect that.”

“Hey! Yamaguchi is shorter than Bokuto.”

“Wow, I’m surprised you didn’t try to trade the two of them.” Yaku crossed his arms.

“Bokuto is a nightmare to deal with. Only Akaashi is equipped to handle him. Plus, he knows how to actually set to Bokuto to give him a chance to do anything against us. Bokuto would be wasted on this side, and then who are you going to rely on? Chibi-chan?”

Yaku threw both hands in the air. “Fine, have it your way.”

“I will! As always! Thank you, Yaku. You’re the best.” When Kuroo turned to face his team to give them the run-down on how they would play and rotate, Tsukishima had a frown on his face as he watched them. “What?”

“I finally see why Yaku was so adamant that you weren’t dating Kenma-san.”

He raised his left eyebrow. “Oh?”

“Clearly the both of you are dating.”

“Ew!” Yaku shouted across the court with a fake retching sound as Kuroo gagged and said, “Ugh.”

Tsukishima laughed a moment later, the smile spreading across his face before he could stop it. Yamaguchi bit his lip to keep from laughing as well while Lev looked confused. Bokuto and Akaashi took on the stance of proud parents looking at their children from across the net.

“Eh? Kuroo-san and Yaku-san are dating?” Hinata asked.

“Absolutely not,” Yaku said.

“But—”

“I said it as a joke, you idiot.” Tsukishima rolled his eyes. “Doesn’t your team also have team parents?”

“Daichi and Suga, obviously,” Yamaguchi said from behind him.

“Yeah, but Daichi and Suga are dating,” Hinata defended.

Kuroo shook his head. “Alright, let’s get to actual practice. We’ll have a much harder time tonight with Yaku defending. We’ll start with Tsukishima and Lev in the front and Yamaguchi on serves. I’ll play defense in the back for now, but when we rotate we’ll have a weak back row, so Tsukishima and I will focus on getting in blocks to rotate as quickly as possible.

“I’m not that weak at receives,” Yamaguchi mumbled.

“No, you’re not,” Kuroo complimented. “I was talking about Lev. It’s hard for anyone experienced to cover enough for him, let alone a fellow first year. Yaku and I struggle with him, so it’s not a slight against you. Tsukishima will help build back some back row strength like you, but we’ll have a harder time picking up spikes for a couple of rounds.”

“Why don’t you position yourself in a place where you can cover for Lev on the back?” Tsukishima asked.

“Because I want to block some of Bokuto’s spikes. The two of us can do it together, but I don’t think I can pull it off with anyone else. Definitely willing to try with Yamaguchi. He’s a good fight against the net in our practice matches.” Kuroo grinned. “So, any objections to how we play?”

They shook their heads, but Lev did grumble under his breath about what Kuroo said. They ignored him in favor of taking their places on the court opposite Bokuto who had Yaku and Hinata in the backrow while he and Akaashi played the front.

“I’m not used to spiking and blocking,” Yaku called over the net. “Please go easy on me!”

“As if!” Kuroo returned with his obnoxious laugh. “Don’t give me that shit, Yaku. I know how well you can block.”

“Yaku-san can block?” Lev tilted his head to the side.

“He can do it all. You have a lot to learn. Keep your mind in the game.” Kuroo reprimanded as Yamaguchi sent the ball flying into the air for the first serve.

Yamaguchi’s float serve developed through consistent practice, but he hadn’t used it in an official practice game yet. He thought it would be a good opportunity to practice with low stakes. The ball drifted to the back court before falling suddenly. Yaku missed managing to pick it up.

“Whoa!” Kuroo perked up. “I didn’t know you knew how to do a float serve! Nekoma will definitely be watching out for that at nationals.”

Play continued for several rounds. Yaku started managing to pick up on the patterns of playing against a float serve, so it wasn’t a weapon that Yamaguchi could use all the time, but it definitely helped score their team several points.

“Remember to center yourself against their blocking arm,” Kuroo said as they took a small break. “I know I mentioned it yesterday, but it can be easy to forget until it becomes a habit. Keep your arms out in front of you as well. You won’t get blown back as easy.”

“I know Tsukki and Lev are on your team, but don’t you feel it’s dangerous to share these tips with me?” Yamaguchi asked. “We are opponents after all.”

“I’ve always been a nice person,” Kuroo said placing a hand over his heart.

Lev and Tsukishima stared at him, deadpan, without a trace of amusement. They knew the truth of Kuroo’s aggressive personality when it came to practice.

“You don’t have to look at me like that…” he said. He cleared his throat and considered the question more seriously. “I want to make the Battle at the Garbage Dump a reality. It’s what our coach wants more than anything. But who knows how much longer our coach is going to continue coaching? So, because of that, we need you guys to keep winning, too. It’s practice for me as well. Don’t worry about the small details. It would be nice to face you on the court since you’re Tsukishima’s friend. I think we might see a different side to him if that happens.” He gestured to the court. “Let’s get back to practice.”

A few rounds later, Akaashi called out, “Sorry, it’s a bit short!”

“Surround him! Spread out the block!” Kuroo yelled at Tsukishima and Lev in the front row.

They both jumped for the block, but Bokuto aimed and hit the ball back off Lev’s block.

“One more time!” Bokuto said. “Make it a good toss, Akaashi.”

“What was that?” Hinata asked excitedly at the end of the play.

Bokuto explained the concept of the rebound, and Tsukishima laughed when Akaashi insulted Bokuto by pointing out that his rebounds often resulted in lost points for Fukurōdani.

“You’ve been laughing more lately.” Yamaguchi nudged him with his elbow.

“Have I?” he asked.

Yamaguchi only hummed.

“I’ve just never thought about soulmates in the way Bokuto-san and Akaashi-san interact. They make a good pairing, but Akaashi-san definitely keeps Bokuto-san more level-headed by checking his ego. It’s nice.”

“Would you want something like that?” Yamaguchi glanced at Kuroo who had his eyes trained on the floor.

“I don’t know. I’m not going to think about it either considering—” he broke off, almost admitting that his soulmate chose another partner over him. “I just want to focus on volleyball right now. We’re leading by one point right now.”

Near the end of their game, the ball went up for Hinata, and Kuroo joined Tsukishima and Lev at the net. Hinata managed to hit the ball off Lev’s fingertips for a block out which everyone gushed over for its impossibility to pull off.

Yaku called the game a point later, so they could go get dinner—and it unfortunately ended them in a tie.

Chapter Text

As it turned out, Kuroo didn’t need to injure Lev on purpose for him to be removed from the games on the last day of the training camp. Lev managed to trip on the stairs, similar to Tsukishima on the first day, but he had no one to catch him as he tumbled. His ankle rolled enough to where he couldn’t play, and his shoulder ached from impacting the stairs. The medic on hand for the camp said he was lucky not to dislocate the appendage.

Kuroo sat on the floor in the room set aside for the alphas with a roll of compression bandage and Yaku’s foot in his lap. The latter lay flat on his back with an arm covering his eyes as he bit his lip to hold in the whimpers of pain.

“You’re sure you can play?” Kenma asked, leaning over to watch Kuroo work.

“I’ll be fine. I can play,” Yaku said.

Kuroo held the end of the compression bandage to the bottom of Yaku’s foot to secure the wrap. He kept it tight as he wove his way around the injured ankle. “It’ll probably be better if you sit out.”

“Then I have to openly acknowledge to not only our team but all the teams at this camp that Lev is my soulmate. I’m not doing it. Not like that. If I sit out now, it’ll be obvious. There’s no way I can come up with a plausible reason why I would have the exact same injury.”

“The coaches will know. They might be planning to switch you out,” Kuroo said.

“Why would the coaches know?”

Kuroo swallowed sharply and realized he never told either of them that he informed the coaches about their soulmates. He intended to, but it slipped his mind with everything that happened with Tsukishima. “Remember when they told us to inform them about our soulmates after Lev broke Tsukishima’s glasses? I told coach then and there. I really meant to tell you, but I didn’t realize until now that it slipped my mind.”

“Ah,” Yaku sounded almost disappointed. A moment later, the door slid open to reveal Naoi-sensei holding a roll of bandages.

“Oh, you already have it under control.” He appeared startled by their forethought. “Nekomata-san already said we’ll play Shibayama today.”

“You can’t!” Yaku sat straight up. Kuroo quickly fastened the pin to hold the bandage in place. “If I’m out on the same injury as Lev, people are going to put it together. I can play.”

Naoi furrowed his brow and chewed his upper lip. “Are you sure?”

“Absolutely. There’s no way I’m not playing today.”

“If it hurts too much, just give us the signal, and we’ll pull you.”

“I won’t have to but thank you.”

“Did I wrap it well enough?” Kuroo asked.

Yaku softly rotated his ankle in a circle and winced. “Yeah. I think I need to dig out the ankle braces in my bag and wear them as well.”

“You really don’t have to play.”

Yaku sighed. “I know I give you a lot of shit for not telling Tsukishima, but I think my world would end if I told Lev. You’ve heard the comments he makes. He’s still too immature. I’m not really attracted to him either—not the version of him that exists now.”

Kuroo furrowed his brow as Yaku crawled over to his gym bag that he brought with him. He’d have to drop it off back in their room, but he was glad he didn’t have to walk down two flights of stairs without the ankle braces. He glanced back at Kuroo as he Velcroed them firmly over the softer bandage.

“What?”

“You said something I’d never thought about before.”

“Oh?”

“I know I’ve said before that I felt some sort of attraction to Tsukishima, but when you were talking about Lev—I just—I realized there’s a difference. There’s a physiological response because of the whole soulmate thing, and there’s an interest in who he is—but as much as I say all of that, I’m not sure that we’re a match.”

“What do you mean?” Yaku asked.

“You said that Lev is too immature, and I think the same is true of Tsukishima. He is two years younger than me, and the way he reacts to things—it’s frustrating because we have two years on them. That’s a lot of growing in those two years, and I remember some of the dumb shit we used to get up in arms about as first years.”

Yaku chuckled under his breath.

“I mean, back then I was convinced I was interested in girls with long hair, small petite ones. I was certain my soulmate was going to be a woman, but then Bokuto and Akaashi happened the next year and it started shifting my whole perspective.”

“So?”

Kuroo swallowed and leveled Yaku with a firm look. “So, I’m not going to pursue Tsukishima. If he leaves the team, that’s his decision. I’m not going to chase him down and force him back—he’s a confused kid. We both need to just focus on ourselves. Of course, if he wants to become a better player for Nekoma, I’ll be right there to guide him, but that’s it. It’s honestly a miracle Bokuto and Akaashi are the way they are. I need to figure out my own life and how I feel before I can worry about someone else.”

“That’s a very good point,” Yaku said. “It’s not like I don’t think I’ll never be attracted to Lev in the way they say soulmates are supposed to be, but right now is too soon for that.”

“Yes, that’s it. There’s definitely a physical attraction that I have for Tsukishima, but that’s so different from every other type.”

“Great, now that we have that worked out.” He waved for Kuroo to help him stand up. “Let’s go play some volleyball while I attempt to not cry from pain.”

Chapter Text

Tsukishima felt oddly calm as the morning games started with him on the court in place of Lev. Lev put up a level of protest at not being able to play, but putting a little weight on his ankle made him wince back to the bench without further protest. He noticed the braces on Yaku’s ankles right away, and he wasn’t surprised to see him pushing himself to play like everything was normal.

Their first game was scheduled against Fukurōdani, and it felt almost like an extension of the night before. Without the shadow of Lev pressing down on him under the watchful gaze of the coaches, he played freer than he had in a long time.

“Could you stop?” Bokuto asked through the net after he managed to scare Bokuto into a cross shot that Kuroo and Yaku could both pick up for the fifth time.

“Why?” Tsukishima tilted his head in a taunt he hadn’t done in a long time against an opponent. “Scared?”

He let out a friendly and playful growl that made Tsukishima snicker.

“Kuroo sure did a good job training you,” he said.

“Bokuto-san, he only gave me tips. It’s you I’ve been practicing against.”

A sudden rush of realization flooded over him. “Akaaashi!” he yelled. “Did you know that would happen? That practicing with him would make him harder to score points on?”

Akaashi sighed. “You had the same realization when you started doing extra practices with Kuroo-san. Obviously, practicing against someone makes you better against them and them better against you.”

“Akaaaaashi,” he whined.

Tsukishima laughed. “I look forward to blocking you out entirely, Bokuto-san.”

The captain gasped dramatically. “Kuroo has turned you into a monster.”

“Only because he knows how to follow instructions,” Kuroo grinned. “Come on, next point!”

It was only a few points down the line that Tsukishima blocked Bokuto’s straight so tightly leading him into a cross. However, expecting this similarly to Kuroo’s actions from a few nights before, he moved his block at the last moment and sent the ball careening to the floor.

Nekoma cheered with reckless abandon and rushed toward Tsukishima before piling on him. It was as if they’d won the national tournament with how loud it was.

“You blocked Bokuto!” Yaku pulled him fiercely into a hug.

“A top five spiker!” Yamamoto cheered. “I knew you could do it if we gave you the chance. You’ll absolutely be better than Kuroo by the end of the year.”

Tsukishima shook his head. “One block against Bokuto-san doesn’t mean that but thank you.”

“Another! Do it again!” Yamamoto slung an arm around Tsukishima’s neck and pulled him toward the net, spreading the haze of his motor oil scent across him. There was something oddly comforting in the smell despite its potential to be completely off-putting.

Kei smiled. “I’ll try, but I doubt it’ll happen again.”

He ended up being correct. Nekoma managed to pull off a final win against Fukurōdani, but Tsukishima didn’t manage to block Bokuto the same again.

“That was a really great game,” Naoi praised as they gathered their water bottles and other items from the sidelines. “We’ll be evaluating all the scores and everything that’s happened as we start to move toward Nationals in the fall. We have a couple months to get the team up to par then the qualifiers will be upon us. Please do keep up on your schoolwork. Make sure you’ve done your summer homework as there’s only a few weeks left until school starts again. We have one last game to run the scoreboards for, but then we’ll have the usual barbeque. Please eat as much as you can!”

They all thanked Naoi and bowed politely before breaking off under Kuroo’s direction.

“You must get around, don’t you?” Yoshikawa Kazutaka said to Tsukishima as he passed by to play a line guard on the game.

“What?” he asked, startled.

“It must be nice having so many alphas on the team without mates. You can just pick and choose who you sleep with.”

The happiness he felt from the high of winning their game sapped out of him almost immediately. He returned his face to a familiar cool neutral.

“Too bad we don’t have one more night here—you could find another bed to crawl into.”

“And we all know it wouldn’t be yours considering your shit personality,” he bit back.

He didn’t see the fist coming, but apparently Yamamoto did. He jumped in front of Tsukishima with a yell and took the punch full force to his jaw.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Yamamoto yelled, rubbing his cheek.

“I see your most recent fuck is defending your honor.”

Yamamoto’s eyes went wide then he swung back. Tsukishima grabbed his arm and hauled him away before he could make contact.

“Stop. The scum isn’t worth it. He couldn’t get with an omega if he had two dicks.”

Yamamoto was startled by the insult. “Can that happen?”

Tsukishima rolled his eyes. “Of course that’s what you choose to focus on. It’s called diphallia.”

“Everything okay?” Kuroo appeared behind them with a deep glare set into his features.

“It’s fine.” Kei let go of Yamamoto’s arm. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Not so brave now the alpha dicking you down and keeping you on the team is here, are you?” Yoshikawa spat.

“Oi, Ogano, get your player under control. We don’t put up with omega sexual harassment at Nekoma.”

Ogano sighed. “Yoshikawa we warned you two months ago that another violation would result in us dropping you from the team.”

“But—”

“There’s no exceptions. You seem to be incapable of not sexually harassing other players. The coaches will have more information about your departure. Go clean up your things and head home.”

“What about lunch—”

Ogano cut him off again. “You’re disinvited. Get out.” He walked up to Tsukishima and bowed. “I’m very sorry.”

“It’s Yamamoto you should apologize to. He was punched,” Kei mumbled.

“Of course.” He repeated the gesture to Yamamoto who waved him off.

“I’ll go get you some ice,” Kuroo volunteered. “Be back in a few minutes. You should sit and rest. Shibayama, take over tabulating the game results. I want to review them when I get back.”

“Come sit with me,” Yamamoto pulled on Tsukishima’s arm, leading him over to the gym doorway.

“Thank you for earlier. I didn’t even see his fist.”

“It’s no problem.” Yamamoto plopped down in the doorway. “I would’ve done it for anyone on the team.”

“I guess it just feels different coming from you.” Kei carefully lowered himself to the step next to Yamamoto, trying to keep his face in the shade where he wouldn’t be blinded.

“Oh?” Taketora squinted in the bright sunshine.

“I don’t know why. It’s weird. I just really appreciate it. Kept my glasses from being broken for a second time.”

He laughed. The corners of Tsukishima’s mouth curled into a smile.

“Thank you, really,” Tsukishima said as he sat on the steps next to Yamamoto. He reached up and gently pressed his fingers against the red mark on his jaw. “Are you okay?”

Yamamoto hissed under the pressure. “I’m fine,” he said softly. “It’ll heal in the next couple of days. How about you?”

“I wasn’t the one who got punched.” Tsukishima dropped his hand to his lap and stared out at the grassy hill where sprints were cancelled because of the heat.

“Yeah, but the mental toll of what happened. He was insulting you.”

Kei shrugged. “It happens so often I don’t really get shaky or tired at that kind of confrontation anymore. I’ve been made fun of for a long time about my height and omega nature—it just comes par with the course for me. I come up with insults and store them away for use when I need it. They don’t like being talked back to, and it throws them off balance. I try to ignore them most times, but—” he stopped talking. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Yamamoto looked away quickly. “It just kind of hit me how cool of a person you are. I knew you were a good player since tryouts and everything, but I never really bothered to get to know you as more than a teammate. Nekoma hasn’t done as much team bonding stuff as we did under the previous captain. I wasn’t sure I really liked it last year, but I feel like I only know the older players now. There’s probably other cool first years—but Lev is only sometimes in that group.”

Tsukishima laughed. “I think I wrote you off when I first joined the team as well. It’s been nice to talk to you this week and get to know you a bit.”

“Ah, yeah,” Yamamoto rubbed his wrist awkwardly. “I do have a bit of a louder personality than you do.”

“It’s kind of a nice balance—it was different having you push me to be better. Normally my friends around me are cautious and nervous, but you were straightforward and demanded that this is how things are. Yamaguchi took a page out of your book and said something similar to me, and it was very rattling.” He clasped his hands. “I think I need someone willing to push me like you are.”

“Do you maybe want to be tentative friends?” he suggested.

Tsukishima sat on the step for a while staring at the grassy hillside. “I’m not sure I understand what a friend is.” He flushed pink. “That sounds awful, but I mean… I’m not sure. I’ve been friends with Yamaguchi for so long—we don’t play games like when we were kids, and even our childish snuggling isn’t a thing anymore. We would just invade each other’s space and talk, but how do you do that with someone you’re just getting to know? I have the same issue with Akaashi—he said we were friends, but we don’t really do much. We have each other’s numbers and occasionally share little bits. He went with me and Yamaguchi on one outing over a month ago. He suggested we go get lunch, but neither of us has ever made the initiative to do that.”

“Nah, I totally get it,” Yamamoto said. “On Karasuno, Tanaka talks about how he hangs out with Nishinoya playing video games, but you don’t strike me as the person to be very interested in them, and I don’t exactly play a lot. Just occasionally. Fukunaga and I have hung out a few times, but we usually just watch a movie or play a round of volleyball.” He rested his chin on his hand and winced when the bones in his palm connected with the sore tissue. “I think friends looks different for everyone and even person to person. With Yamaguchi and Akaashi, it would be hard to maintain a relationship you might view as friends since they go to different schools. I don’t know what we’d do, but we could always figure that out.”

“Figure it out?”

“I know you like music,” he said. “Maybe we discuss artists, go to music shops, find mutual bands, and save up to go to concerts. If those are too expensive, and you like movies, we could always just do something like a movie night every once in a while and even invite others.”

Embarrassed by how easily others could read his interests because of his need to own a good pair of headphones, Tsukishima stumbled over his question, “What’s something you’re interested in?”

Yamamoto leaned back and braced himself on his hands. “I assume you mean other than volleyball. I like movies a lot, action ones like the Fast and the Furious franchise.”

“Shouldn’t friends have something in common?” he asked.

“I’m sure we can find something. I think the most important part is that friends feel comfortable talking to each other, and I already feel that way with you. It’s not like I’ll start sharing my deepest, darkest secrets, but we can at least talk.”

“Here I was hoping I would finally have some dirt on you.” The corners of Tsukishima’s mouth twitched, and Yamamoto laughed.

Kuroo appeared behind them suddenly with a dark scowl on his face. “Here.” He held out a bag filled with ice to Yamamoto who took it and pressed it against his sore cheek.

“Thanks, Kuroo-senpai!”

“No problem,” Kuroo’s voice sounded tighter than usual as he turned away and returned to the bulk of the team watching the games on the sidelines. Shibayama dutifully handed him a paper with the scores from the camp. Oddly, Kenma wasn’t with the group like usual, but Kei thought he might’ve snuck away to play video games in a hidden corner as they weren’t playing the last game of the training camp.

Tsukishima turned his attention to the game between Karasuno and Fukurōdani. They weren’t playing too badly against the team. Bokuto appeared to be in some kind of slump, and Akaashi didn’t send any passes to him until he became so agitated on the court, he caused other problems by wandering around looking like a lost puppy. He never witnessed that behavior before, and he wondered what caused it and how Akaashi felt about his boyfriend being a nuisance.

Hinata and Kageyama tentatively synced up for the first time all training camp and cheered as they took a point against Fukurōdani who was still formidable even without Bokuto. A few plays later, he was quickly growing agitated and anxious, waiting for a chance to hit the ball. The next toss, Akaashi put up to Bokuto, and he brought it home for the final win against Karasuno. Akaashi nodded discretely to his teammates who shouted compliments at Bokuto who immediately started bragging about his prowess. Tsukishima caught his somewhat friend’s gaze, and Keiji rolled his eyes before placing a hand against Bokuto’s arm with a brief word of praise that had the alpha hanging off him as if he would never let go.

“Aren’t I the best, ‘Kaashi?”

“Absolutely.”

“We should head back,” Yamamoto pointed to Nekoma who congregated off to one side as Karasuno performed their final punishment of diving receives around the courts.

“Chibi-chan is getting really good at diving receives, isn’t he?” Yaku commented as they joined.

Tsukishima watched Karasuno fall into another dive, and he realized Yaku wasn’t wrong in his observation. They were a lot better. Not Nekoma level better, but enough that it would be a pain to play against them in the future.

“Are you sure you should be calling him chibi, Yaku-san?” Lev asked. “You’re not much taller than Hinata.”

Yaku started shouting at Lev about his height before whirling and kicking him in the butt with a three-sixty spin. He rubbed his own butt a moment later out of eye line, grumbling. He shuffled over to Tsukishima and whispered, “I really shouldn’t kick him, should I?”

Tsukishima shrugged. “He deserves it most of the time.”

“Yeah, but it’s bordering on abusive, isn’t it? He is—I mean we’re—it’s just not right. Right?”

He considered for a moment. “No, it’s not. Not just because it causes you pain, but—I find it satisfying as well, but if I thought about my soulmate kicking me, it’s not pleasant.”

Yaku’s shoulders drooped. “I’ll apologize later and work on not doing it. I never really thought about it before.” His eyes darted to the other side of the group where Yamamoto was laughing with Shibayama about something. “What’s up with the both of you recently?”

Kei shrugged. “We decided to be friends. He’s actually quite easy to talk to and get along with.”

“Really?” Yaku was obviously skeptical, and his left eyebrow arched inquisitively.

He nodded.

“Shōyō always does something new. It’s really fun to see what he does when we play together,” Kenma’s voice floated over to them.

“So, you want me to convince him to join Nekoma, so you feel more motivated to practice?” Kuroo asked with a soft laugh.

Tsukishima’s heart leapt into his throat for a brief moment at the idea that he’d have another person to compete against for his spot on the team. He quickly shook away the fear by reminding himself of the resignation form in his bag. He was almost done—perhaps he could pass it to the coach as they arrived back at Nekoma to drop off a few things before heading home. It would be the perfect excuse.

“No, I don’t want to play with him. That would be a nightmare. We’re not a good match for setter and spiker. It’s better that he’s our opponent. It makes me excited to play.”

Kuroo crossed his arms. “A better opponent. Like he’s the final boss in a video game you like playing. It’s true, when we play Karasuno you light up differently as if you’re really being challenged. It’s good for you and for us. I’ll leave your relationship up to the two of you.”

Kenma turned his head to look at the players on Karasuno’s bench, and his hair shifted away from his face just enough to highlight the red mark on his cheek. Tsukishima cocked his head and started to open his mouth when Yaku grabbed his arm and pulled him away.

“Come on, coach asked us to clean up the storage room, so everything can be put away quicker. They have the BBQs already heating up outside.”

Tsukishima followed without protest and the red mark so identical to Yamamoto’s vanished from his current worries.

Chapter Text

Tsukishima, Yamaguchi, and Kenma arrived at the same quiet corner of the lawn at the same time. For a moment, they stared at each other uncertainly before nodding and accepting they would all be hiding in the same location from the main groups. They didn’t speak much but watched the chaos of sporty teenagers vying for food because they were always starving—except Tsukishima. Bokuto stole a bunch of meat from Kuroo and Kai who ran around the hot field yelling at him.

They laughed at Kageyama inhaling his food too quickly and choking, but they were secretly grateful that Akaashi was there to take care of him. A large group of the tallest players congregated around Yachi, trying to force food on her, and she was clearly ready to die on the spot. Yamaguchi felt bad and tried to rush to her aid and rescue her. He returned a moment later with more food on his plate. They watched Yamamoto, Tanaka, and Nishinoya perform guard duty for the managers, but mostly Kiyoko.

“Why is Nishinoya the leader?” Tsukishima asked as he stole a bit of meat off Yamaguchi’s plate in an unusual show of wanting to eat more.

Yamaguchi ignored the action and explained the story behind Nishinoya being slapped by Kiyoko which made him the default leader since he was the only one she ever touched.

Daichi appeared in front of them a moment later. “Yamaguchi, did you get enough to eat?” He held out a plate of food for him.

“Ah, I had plenty. Thank you. I even had seconds.”

“You should eat more to keep up your stamina.”

“I brought more veggies!” Kuroo appeared behind him. “Tsukishima, you need to eat more. Wait, Kenma! This is where you’re hiding? Have you even eaten a single plate?”

Kenma tried to slide away as Bokuto arrived with a plate of meat. That was how Tsukishima found himself with a full plate of food sitting on his lap. He caught sight of Yaku, Kai, Sugawara, and Akaashi watching from afar while laughing and smiling like content parents. He glared, and Akaashi decided to come save them from the overbearing team dads.

“They care about you a lot,” Akaashi said when the alphas were out of earshot and back with the main groups.

“How am I supposed to eat all of this?” he gestured to the plate in distress. “I never eat this much.”

Akaashi laughed. “That’s why Bokuto-san says you’re too skinny, but I think you’re perfect the way you are.” He stole some of the veggies and meat. “I’ll help you eat it.”

“I noticed during the Karasuno game that Bokuto-san seemed to be having a bad day,” Tsukishima said.

He hummed. “Yes, he has rough days every once in a while. When his shots start getting blocked, he’ll pout around for a while. I’ve learned how to handle him when that happens, and the team supports as well. He always comes through in national competitions—it’s like he accepts that there might be someone better than him on the court, but he struggles when it comes to practice matches. It’s just one of his quirks that I get to love.”

“Do you and Bokuto-san ever get into arguments?” Yamaguchi asked.

“Frequently. Kuroo-san knows about our longest and still ongoing disagreement. We just make sure we don’t let it get in the way of anything else. It’s taken a lot of work and communication, and we both had to be willing or it wouldn’t work. Not every couple is as mature as we are either, so don’t take this as a normal thing for our age. The only reason our parents trust us the way they do is because we’ve shown maturity above most people our age.”

“So, it doesn’t just click when you meet your soulmate?” Yamaguchi’s gaze trailed to Kageyama and Hinata. “Although, I guess I already know the answer to that one.”

“The soulmate label isn’t a magical bandage that will fix any wound. Remember that for when you know your soulmates in the future.”

“Did you ever date anyone who wasn’t your soulmate?” Tsukishima asked.

“Bokuto-san and I both have. In middle school I dated a female alpha, but it didn’t work out. It taught me a lot about relationships. From what I was told, Bokuto-san dated a couple girls his first year, but it didn’t work out because of his dedication to volleyball. Now we have each other, and it feels like just a little more makes sense.” Akaashi stood. “Come mingle with me.”

Reluctantly, Tsukishima let himself be pulled over to the main crowd. They joined Kuroo, Bokuto, Hinata, and Lev at one of the grills.

“You know, I am a top five spiker,” Bokuto bragged to Hinata on their approach.

“Whoa!” Hinata leaned in closer. “That’s amazing.”

“Exactly!”

“Ushijima is in your prefecture though, and he’s top three,” Kuroo said.

“Why do you keep doing that?” Bokuto muttered under his breath.

“Scary,” Yamaguchi said. “To even get to Tokyo, we’ll have to face Ushijima, and I’m not sure we could pull that off.”

“You’re not allowed to freak out about Ushijima because you’ve faced me! We’re all top spikers in Japan. The only thing Ushijima really has going for him compared to us is that he’s left-handed. Plus, he’s just top three, there are two guys above him in terms of power.”

“Who are the other top players?” Lev asked.

“Kiryu from Kyushu and Sakusa from Kanto. They’re this year’s top three.”

“So, if we beat them all to the top, does that make us number one?” Lev and Hinata asked together.

“Top two for sucking maybe,” Kuroo laughed.

“What?!” Lev squawked.

“Kenma said that I’m better than you at receives and serves, so I’m at least above you,” Hinata mumbled in thought.

“No way!”

“Come with me, Tsukki!” Bokuto cheered throwing an arm around the omega’s shoulders. “We’re going to talk about strategies you can use in the preliminaries.”

“Shouldn’t I be doing that? He’s on my team, and I’m captain,” Kuroo’s eyebrow twitched.

“I’ve actually played with and against them at the Japan youth training camps. You’ve never been invited.” Bokuto let go of Tsukishima to childishly pull his lower eyelid down, stick out his tongue, and wave his fingers in the air to mock him.

“Oi!” Kuroo batted at him.

“Please don’t call me ‘Tsukki’,” Kei protested weakly.

“I have important secrets to impart,” Bokuto pushed Kuroo away.

“Tell me, too! We literally play the same position.”

After much prolonged bickering, Bokuto did finally tell both Tsukishima and Kuroo about the other top spikers in the nation including someone named Ojiro who was number five.

When everyone finished eating, they returned to their rooms to pack up their items and say goodbye to new and old friends. Tsukishima made sure to follow Yamaguchi to the buses where they could talk more privately.

“Are you still planning on quitting?” Yamaguchi asked.

Kei considered the week and the reality he faced previously before nodding. “I think so. It’d probably be best to turn in my form tonight. I can thank the coaches for one last opportunity to try playing. I wouldn’t have even played today if Lev didn’t fall down the stairs this morning.”

“I’m sorry to see you go,” he said.

“It wasn’t really fun while it lasted,” he shrugged. His lower jaw trembled as a sudden wave of sadness washed over him, but he bit it back. Out loud, he admitted, “Until today. It was fun playing against Bokuto and scaring him. I felt important on the court, but it all means nothing.”

Yamaguchi hugged him tight around the middle. He didn’t say anything else, but his comfort was all Tsukishima needed.

Chapter Text

They took the train home to the Nerima ward where the coaches told them to get some rest for a couple of days before returning to training the next week. Tsukishima opened his bag and collected the crinkled resignation form. Steeling his nerves, he took a few strong steps toward the coaches’ retreating backs when Yamamoto stepped in front of him.

“What are you doing?” he hissed.

“None of your business,” Tsukishima stopped. They caught the attention of the others. He definitely didn’t want an audience for this.

Yamamoto grabbed the paper from him before he could react.

“Give that back!” he demanded.

Yamamoto unfolded it while stepping just out of reach and stared at the neat handwriting in horror. “You can’t resign.”

“It’s my choice. Give me back my form.”

“No,” he said.

Tsukishima reached for it and missed it by a hair; Yamamoto pulled back and ripped it in one motion. He continued tearing until it was in tiny pieces that the wind caught and blew away. He shoved what he could of the remnants into his pocket to dispose of properly.

“You had no right!” Tsukishima yelled. “The coaches aren’t going to play me anyway—it’s useless to keep pushing it.” He balled his hands into fists. “I should be the one to punch you this time. I’m going to get a new one and turn it in.”

Kuroo took several steps forward ready to intervene to save Kenma from sporting another nasty bruise. However, Yamamoto spoke before he could get there.

“Sure, you could get a new one but look at how long this one stuck around in your bag. You’re not done with Nekoma yet, and you’re not quitting. If the coaches do ask you to leave the team, I’ll apologize for ripping up your resignation form. However, you’re good enough to stick around and take Kuroo’s place at the end of the year. If we’re going to be friends, I’m going to be honest with you. I want you on Nekoma playing alongside me for another year. Trust me that after that last game against Fukurōdani, the coaches won’t want to send you away. I’ll even get you a new form if it makes you feel better.”

“Whatever,” Tsukishima spun on his heel. “And we’re no longer friends.”

He marched past the team, face completely red, as he held back frustrated tears. He walked the quiet streets home fuming all the way about the injustice of having his choice ripped away from him by someone he’d come to trust over the last few days, despite his better judgment. By the time he reached his house, all emotion had flooded out of him again, and he felt completely numb on the inside. The thought of taking the easier way out of his predicament flashed through his mind again—a few extra pills when he claimed a headache, and he wouldn’t wake up again.

Tsukishima stopped on the porch and curled his fingers into his palms until he could feel the nails biting into his skin and leaving behind tiny crescent patterns. He knew logically he shouldn’t think like that—especially as a solution to the tiny problem of getting a new form and slapping it on Naoi-sensei’s desk. He just knew that sometimes a more permanent solution to his suffering sounded nicer than the one that would prolong it.

Sighing, he pushed the door open and dropped his bag onto the edge of the genkan before turning and sitting to pull off his shoes.

“Kei, you’re home,” Akiteru said from behind him startling him.

“Nii-chan,” he said, surprised to see his brother up so late with college classes in the early morning.

“Let’s go out back and talk.”

He followed, sitting on the small interconnecting hallway while Akiteru dropped down into the yard. There was a basketball hoop, left there by the previous owners that neither of them used—but there had been one at their home in Miyagi as well that also went unused from when they were very little. Akiteru picked up the volleyball he’d left in the backyard and bounced it off the backboard.

“It’s been a while since we really talked about volleyball.”

“Has it?” Kei asked softly, staring at the ground.

“Yeah—even when we were in Miyagi and gathered around the table talking, nobody ever really mentioned it. If we tried, you’d retreat up to your room to hide.”

“Do I?”

“I noticed you’ve changed a bit over this last week. You’ve had a shift in how you think about volleyball.”

“I haven’t.”

“Oh? Really?” Akiteru paused for a moment. “Was the training camp rough?”

“It was normal,” he deflected.

“You have rough written all over your face. You can be honest with me.”

Kei thought for a moment. “You still play volleyball, right?”

“Yes, with a local association team I met through my college.”

“Do you have tournaments?”

“Yep!” Akiteru kept the ball in the air almost effortlessly without missing the same spot on the backboard. “You want to know why I’m still playing after everything that happened in high school, aren’t you?” He stopped the ball and turned. “I keep going because of what happened in high school. It was horrible. I can’t look back on it and think it was fun, and even then, I can see your face and remember how you witnessed how pathetic I actually was. It felt like I didn’t do anything worthwhile in high school, and I didn’t get to experience anything good about volleyball back then. But I can still remember how good it feels to get a spike in, and the pride you feel when you manage to score.”

The image of Bokuto saying he just needed to find that moment, and he would be hooked on volleyball flashed through his mind.

“I think that’s all that really matters when it comes to volleyball.”

“What if I don’t feel like that?”

“Then, you have to find something that makes you feel that way. Whatever you choose, just make sure it’s best for you. Mom and I will support you no matter what you choose.”

“I had planned to turn in my resignation form tonight.”

“Oh? What changed your mind?” Akiteru sat next to him on the porch.

“One of my teammates grabbed the form from me and tore it up. He said that he wanted me to still be on the team, and that I was the best choice for Nekoma to play in the upcoming games,” Kei said.

“Maybe he finds you cute and wants you around for selfish reasons.”

“Please don’t look for cuteness in a guy who is almost a hundred and ninety centimeters tall.”

Akiteru laughed. “You underestimate just how attractive you are, Kei. Even if he’s not attracted to you, that has to mean something that he wants you to be around and continue playing. He sees a value in you that you don’t see yourself.”

“It’s the value the coaches see that matter.”

“Perhaps if you’re only thinking about volleyball. I think it starts somewhere within. You have to value yourself for who you are before you can expect others to see more out of you,” Akiteru said. He stood quickly and held out a hand. “Come on. I’ve kept you long enough from Mom, and she wanted to make sure you were well-fed after returning home.”

“Do you have any practices with your team over the next couple of days?” Kei asked as they climbed the lifted porch to step back inside.

“Yeah, we have a couple. Why?”

“Can I come with you?”

Chapter Text

Tsukishima wasn’t quite sure why it happened, but he no longer needed the scent patches a month earlier than the doctor predicted. He felt oddly liberated, and without them on, the world seemed just a little more full of color. He was still mad at Yamamoto and had no plans to speak to him at practice now they were returning after two days of rest, but everything else seemed not as cumbersome as before.

Speaking to his brother about volleyball encouraged him to try again a few more times before permanently deciding. He promised himself one more week then he would reassess.

When Tsukishima showed up to the club room and pushed open the door, it was complete chaos. Kuroo and Kai had their arms wrapped around different limbs of Yaku as he screamed profanities in Lev’s direction. Yamamoto was being held back by Fukunaga as he tried to swing at the much taller alpha. Kenma was hiding in the corner with his hands over his ears to protect him from the noise. Inuoka and Shibayama were pulling Lev toward the wall as he returned the string of profanities. Teshiro stood in the middle of the fight with his arms outstretched as if that would somehow stop the verbal abuse.

Kei’s hand slid off the door, and it closed behind him with a loud snap. The shouting halted at once, and each of his teammates turned startled expressions on him.

“Yo,” Yamamoto greeted. Tsukishima morphed his shock into a glare that had Yamamoto recoiling and pulling safely away from Fukunaga who let him go.

The room was quiet in the way that Tsukishima knew they had been talking about him moments before. He had interrupted some argument, and he was at the center of it. He swallowed and tried to keep his breathing even as he walked slowly toward his shelf space. Tsukishima pushed his bag into place and removed his gym kit before taking his glasses off and setting them next to his bag. He pulled off his shirt, and something was shoved into his face.

“I can’t read that,” he glared at Lev.

“It’s a new resignation form because Yamamoto ripped yours up a few days ago,” Lev said.

The smell of sour strawberries flooded the club room, and he grabbed the paper crinkling it before shoving it into his bag. “Thanks,” he mumbled.

“You’re not going to sign it and turn it in?” Lev asked leaning in closer.

Tsukishima put on his gym shirt, slid his glasses into place, and straightened to his full height. He wasn’t taller than Lev, but it still made the alpha take a hesitant step back.

“Not today. I’m going to wait.”

“Why?” Lev raised himself to his full height as well, but Tsukishima didn’t cower.

“I’m going to get you sent back to second string first.”

“I’ve already replaced you.”

“We’ll see about that.” Kei turned back to his shelf space, kicking off his shoes and changing into his gym shorts before putting on his practice shoes. He weaved his way through the still quiet team who were attempting to dress themselves and headed directly to the gym for practice.

“Welcome back to regular practice, I hope you enjoyed the couple days off,” Naoi-sensei said as they gathered on the gym floor in front of the coaches. Nekomata sat in a folding chair to his right with his arms crossed as he watched them. “We’re going to start preparing for the October games that will determine the top teams in our prefecture. The top four teams at these competitions will then compete in November for the two spots that Tokyo prefecture is allotted for Nationals. However, since we are the host prefecture this year, the venue will also be sponsoring a third team from Tokyo prefecture, so only one from the top four will lose out. Nekomata-sensei and I know Nekoma is good enough to take one of the two top spots, so that is our aim. In October we’ll reach the top four then the top two.”

“Yes, coach,” they all said as one.

“We would like to work on finalizing our lineup for the official games, so today we’ll split you into two groups and play a match. We’ll take notes and finalize who will play in October. You all did a wonderful job at the training camp that we also have notes from. We’ll be compiling it all after today. Please strive to play your best.”

They announced the two teams, and Tsukishima was pitted against Kuroo, Yamamoto, Lev, Kai, Kenma, and Yaku with Inuoka, Shibayama, and Teshiro on his side of the court. Tsukishima felt something like excitement shudder to life under his skin, alighting his nerves with electricity at the prospect of pulling off some blocks against them. He spent a long while during the training camps just watching, and he thought he might have a good pattern for their strategies.

His breathing was easy despite the stress, and his vision felt clearer than the last several weeks. He could smell the placement of his teammates including the betas who had their unique natural body odor, but it was nothing compared to those with alignments. Their scents were strong, commanding, and full of distinct notes that called to others. His bones felt lighter, and he didn’t wonder if Lev could blow past him. Tsukishima knew he could block Lev. It was the others he was more worried about.

“Teshiro,” he waved the reserve setter toward him. Tsukishima leaned in to whisper, “When you set to me, can you put it a little higher? They won’t expect it, and I want to get it over their blocks.”

Teshiro agreed with a smile. “Do you think we can win?”

“No, but I think we can put up a good fight.” They considered how to arrange players as the coaches wanted to see what decisions they made. “Put me against Kuroo-san.”

“What?” Teshiro and Inuoka looked up at him in shock.

“We know what arrangement they’ll most likely go with, so put me where I can face Kuroo-san against the net. I learned a lot from him at the training camp, and I wanna test some of it out against someone who should know how it works.”

“That’s brave to take it against Kuroo-san,” Shibayama said. “I say we let him.”

“It almost feels like Tsukishima should be captain of our team,” Inuoka clapped him on the back.

Kei turned a bright pink. “No, no. Not captain.”

“You totally could! Teshiro’s eyes shone brightly at him. “You should definitely call the shots.”

He tried to take a step back and waved his hands in front of him. “Really, I shouldn’t.”

The other players gathered eagerly around him and shoved the clipboard into his hands. “Please? You do actually know the other players better than us. You had extra practice with them.”

Tsukishima swallowed and used the pen to analyze what they already wrote. He crossed out a few notes and shuffled the players to have a slightly stronger defense against the strongest hitters. He spoke with each of them carefully about things he observed during the training camp. They all nodded eagerly and asked questions about his suggestions. Unbidden, his strawberry scent ripened to a sickly sweet and wrapped around the team. He got out of the habit of controlling his scent with the patches, and he had to keep reigning it in. The coaches called for their decisions. Kei walked the clipboard to them and met Kuroo briefly as he handed in their version.

“Think you’ll win?” Kuroo asked.

Tsukishima shook his head with a small laugh. “As if. I’m not making another wager with you. I can guarantee we’ll cause some trouble for you, though.”

“Oh?” Kuroo tilted his head, intrigued. “I look forward to the challenge.”

The coaches blew their whistles, and they took their places on the court. Tsukishima’s prediction about their player placement was dead on. The first serve went to Tsukishima’s disadvantaged team, and one of the players normally regulated to B practice was first to serve. It went neatly over the net, but it wasn’t a hard save for Yaku to make. He put it perfectly to Kenma who sent the ball up. Inuoka, playing as wing spiker, joined Tsukishima in a block against Yamamoto. He grabbed Inuoka’s shirt to stop his early jump. He came to a full stop and joined Kei in a better-timed block that sent the ball spiraling off Tsukishima’s hand.

Shibayama narrowly missed saving it, but the block was enough to have Yamamoto shouting how his block was unfair with Kuroo replying that it was a perfectly good block, and he needed to hit better.

“You can try again,” Tsukishima said. “Just like I’ll block you again.”

“Technically I made that point!” Yamamoto yelled.

Kei smirked and turned away. His plan to rattle Yamamoto was under way.

Putting Tsukishima directly against Kuroo turned out to be a wise idea for their team because with Teshiro sending higher tosses to him, and Tsukishima’s slight height advantage on Kuroo, he could tap hits over Kuroo’s blocks. Yaku was ready after the first few, but that’s when he switched tactics to putting more power behind his spikes, which had mixed results, and playing decoy for hits that went to other players. Shibayama did a great job against Lev’s whiplike spikes and picked almost all of them up much to Lev’s frustration. Tsukishima even managed to sense when Kenma planned to do a setter dump, and he just barely managed to get under it and send it back to Teshiro. They didn’t score the point, but they’d made an impression on the core team members.

“I think the team will be okay when we graduate,” Yaku whispered to Kuroo as they traded places on the court.

“Yeah. When those first years reach their third year, Nekoma is going to be terrifying to deal with,” Kuroo said.

“If the coaches don’t put Tsukishima in the matches, they’re dumber than we thought. His team isn’t winning, but those saves and blocks—you’ve made a monster, Kuroo.”

“Glad he’s on our side.”

“He’s not right now, so watch out for him. I think he’s set on getting you with something you’ve taught him.”

Kuroo let out a soft whine. “Yaku, be nicer to me.”

“Never.”

It was on the very next point that Tsukishima managed to startle Kuroo with his accuracy and attentiveness to his instructions during the training camp. He pulled Inuoka into a high block against Kuroo, straight up and not sideways. Surprised by the height they managed to reach, he tried to change his spike into something like a cross similar to Bokuto, but Tsukishima waited to pounce. He moved his block at the last second, and the ball landed with a resounding smack against the court behind him.

Warm, ripe, strawberries clawed at his throat in the next second. Tsukishima was practically glowing with pride, and his scent had fully awoken to portray that momentary excitement. Inuoka and Teshiro were cheering and pulling Tsukishima into him for congratulatory team scenting, and it made him jealous. He wanted to reach across the net and join in. He wasn’t sure whether to congratulate him on the great block or yell like Yamamoto in frustration at being taken down. What he really wanted to know was when Tsukishima changed—it was sudden and fierce. It happened when he wasn’t watching during the last couple of days.

The game ended with the victory going to Kuroo’s team as Tsukishima predicted, but Kuroo knew that after that performance on the court—the coaches would need to be discriminatory and blind to keep playing Lev in the October matches. It was still important to train him for the next year when he needed to fill Tsukishima’s spot, but that was only because Tsukishima would be taking Kuroo’s. He wouldn’t be captain, but he would be a force to be reckoned with. He was sure the coaches would pair them for more training, and he couldn’t decide if it would be torture or the perfect opportunity—especially with his scent back on display.

“Great game,” Naoi-sensei said. “We’re really proud of the progress everyone made at the training camps. We’ll be reanalyzing all this data tonight and have the official lineup for the qualifiers tomorrow. We want everyone to keep up with training, but we will drill the main line harder as they’ll be taking us to the top.”

“Understood,” Kuroo said. He already knew he would be at the head of that group as captain. He had to present himself as ready even if he knew how grueling and tough the training would be from the previous year.

“Please use tonight to rest and prepare for tomorrow,” Nekomata dismissed them.

Chapter Text

Tsukishima was back on the main line. He couldn’t think of anything else. Pleasantly rich, and ripe strawberry fields flooded the clubroom after everyone went home after their first practice as a team playing nationals. They’d left him with the keys, and Tsukishima let all his pent-up emotions wash out of him at once. He had to get used to controlling them again without his patches, but he took comfort that he was still better at it than Lev.

I beat Lev. The words echoed over and over in his mind increasing the intensity of his scent. There was no way it would be hidden from his teammates the next day, but he didn’t care. Kei couldn’t remember the last time he felt so happy—especially when it came to volleyball. He pulled his phone from his gym bag and opened the text chain with Akaashi and Yamaguchi.

I’m back on the main team.

Congratulations!!!

Yamaguchi’s message came through first followed immediately by several others in rapid succession.

Does this mean you’re going to keep playing?

We can be at nationals together next year!

We might even play against you. Karasuno will win obviously.

Yes, I plan to keep playing.

It all depends on how well our teams do in the qualifiers.

How does it feel to beat Lev on the team?

Akaashi’s text was direct, but he knew the question came from a place of his own excitement.

It feels great. He’s still on first string, but I’m a starter.

I’m really glad it all worked out.

Yamaguchi paired his message with an emoji—a rare event as Tsukishima generally hated seeing and using them.

So, when you win in October, we’ll see each other in January, right?

No.

Akaashi responded quicker than he could.

October is just the qualifying rounds for the top four schools to enter the final tournament.

Akaashi is correct. We have a second tournament in November to determine the top three. Tokyo gets two representatives because the prefecture is large, but since we are also hosting the venue this year, we get a third team sponsored by them.

Oh.

Besides, I’m not sure Nekoma could defeat Fukurōdani in a final match.

We will crush you.

Tsukishima laughed at Akaashi’s message.

See?

The door suddenly flew open, startling him. Kuroo paused at the rich smell of strawberry fields. Kei flushed a bright red. The last person he wanted in the room was Kuroo. He jumped from the bench, leaving his phone open, and yanked at the window latch. He finally managed to shove the window open to help air out the club room.

“Sorry,” he said. “I didn’t think anyone would be coming back tonight. I shouldn’t have let my scent go.”

“It’s fine,” Kuroo said. “Really. It’s nice.”

The corners of Tsukishima’s lips turned down. He curled his fingers against the windowsill, knuckles turning white, as he fought back the retort waiting on the tip of his tongue. He knew Kuroo didn’t like his scent. He had Kenma override it. He didn’t have to lie. Tsukishima let the smell of strawberries slip too much recently, but the doctor told him to not wear any more scent patches from that point forward or it would damage his health. He would practice keeping it under control at home and never let it slip in the clubroom or during matches again. Kei saw the look on Kuroo’s face earlier when he managed to block him and his scent had elevated in joy. The flash of anger and annoyance that crossed his schooled features—and he knew it wasn’t from the block because it came well after. He let go of the sill and crossed his arms.

“How’d you know I’d still be here when you came back?”

“I didn’t.” Kuroo took several steps over to his storage space. “I was hoping I might be able to break in or that I’d catch you on my way back with the key. I forgot something I needed.” Rustling. A moment later, he held up his cell phone. “My dad would kill me if I lost it.”

The front screen flashed with a new text message, and Tsukishima recognized Akaashi’s name with a small screenshot that looked suspiciously like his group thread. He chose not to say anything, but he saw Kuroo glance toward his open phone. Kei took hesitant steps toward Kuroo and picked up his phone. He turned it off, ignoring the new messages between Akaashi and Yamaguchi.

“I’ll wait here until my scent is dispersed then go home. Glad you found your phone.”

“What?” Kuroo hummed not really paying attention. “Oh, you don’t have to worry about your scent. I told you, it’s fine.”

The look of disgust and Kenma’s strong scent on him flashed through Tsukishima’s mind again. Anger flooded him, but he kept the reign on his scent before it flared away from him. He pursed his lips and shoved his phone roughly into his bag.

Startled, Kuroo tucked his phone into his pocket and asked, “Are you okay, Tsukishima?”

“I’m fine.” He kept his voice calm by some margin, but now the thought was chasing through his mind. How often did Akaashi send Kuroo screenshots from their group chat? Did Kuroo know everything? Did Akaashi tell Kuroo that he had feelings for him previously, and that’s why he was suddenly pretending to be okay with his scent when he wasn’t? Was he only invested in making Tsukishima a better volleyball player because he wanted to apologize? Did Bokuto know everything as well? Or it was the first image he ever sent to Kuroo. It was possible, but he also didn’t know for sure. Horror suddenly gripped his heart. He remembered the times he smelled like Kuroo during the training camp. He had thought they were accidental—had assumed it was a mistake—but had Akaashi told him about his condition, and Kuroo purposefully scented him to try and help relieve his symptoms? He felt cold and numb. He had to know if he could trust Akaashi, and he didn’t know what he would do if he couldn’t. His only friend in Tokyo.

Kuroo was speaking, but he hadn’t heard what he said. “—so, that’s why I’m saying it’s fine. You can head home whenever. Nobody will mind.”

Tsukishima blinked rapidly unable to think. He had the keys in his hand and his bag in the other.

“Yeah, okay,” he said dully.

“Tsukishima?” Kuroo asked. He hesitantly reached out a hand.

“I have to go.” He pushed the keys into Kuroo’s chest and pushed him away. They clattered to the floor, and he shoved the door to the clubroom open, his bag clutched in his numb fingers.

He heard Kuroo call faintly after him and curse, but he couldn’t focus past the blood rushing in his ears. He was out of the school grounds before he knew it and on a train into Shinjuku. He held onto the bar as he stood running through every conversation, every probing question, every soft word with the realization that it all seemed premeditated—thought out well before it ever reached him. Carefully planned as if not to insult or negatively affect him after everything he’d suffered in the last few months. Moving to Tokyo was the worst thing that could’ve happened to him, he realized. He had no one he could trust in the new city, and he wouldn’t trust anything Akaashi said until he saw for himself. Tsukishima only hoped Akaashi wouldn’t question him.

The train ride was shorter than he wanted it to be, but soon he was bumping his way into the semi-crowded streets toward Akaashi’s house. His phone kept buzzing in his bag, but he refused to look at it. He needed answers before he considered anything else.

He stood outside Akaashi’s family’s house for five minutes before he finally got up the nerve to press the call button for them to open the gate. They lived in a rather nice house. He understood they were rich and related to a prominent wealthy family whose son was currently attending a high school in Kyoto. Akaashi told him about the distant cousin before, his name started with an S, and he attended some school that started with an R, but the details hardly mattered.

“Hey, I’ve been texting you and trying to call.” Akaashi rushed out of the house with his shoes roughly slammed on his feet. “Are you okay?”

“Can I see your phone?” Tsukishima demanded.

Nonplused and obviously confused by the crinkle between his eyebrows, he passed over his phone without question or thought. Tsukishima unlocked it using Akaashi’s face recognition before opening the texting app.

“Everything alright? Did you lose your phone? Do you want to wait inside for someone to come pick you up?”

He ignored the questions and found the texts with Bokuto and Kuroo at the top of his messages. He checked the one with Bokuto first hoping it showed nothing. Tsukishima didn’t scroll, it would be too slow, so he clicked into the information panel and sifted through the images. There were a collection of images from their outing a couple months previous with Yamaguchi. A large number of the photos were of him staring at things in the museum with interest. Curious about why he would send the photos, he clicked into one, and it brought him to the messages. He could tell it wasn’t Bokuto responding to the images by the phrasing, and it was confirmed when Akaashi said Kuroo’s name in a response to a question about why Tsukishima liked such boring things.

Tears pricked the back of his eyes, and he turned over to the text chat with Kuroo already knowing what he would see there. In the images, it was almost entirely things he had texted him and Yamaguchi in confidence. Things he didn’t want anyone else to know. All of them had been relayed back to Kuroo. Not even the secret of his medical diagnosis was hidden. He didn’t bother to click into the images to view the messages. He had no desire to see more of the betrayal.

Tsukishima pushed the phone back into Akaashi’s hand and turned away from the gate.

“Tsukishima!” Akaashi called. “Wait! What’s going on?”

He whirled, lower lip trembling outside his control. “You had no right!” he yelled. “It wasn’t your place to say anything.”

“What do you—” Akaashi froze. He looked down at his phone and unlocked the screen to see what Tsukishima had been looking at. “No, no, that’s not what I—”

Tsukishima ran before he could say anything else. He had no idea where he was going. The lights blurred in his tears, and he turned down streets with unknown connections hoping Akaashi wouldn’t be able to follow him and try to come up with some bullshit excuse for what he did. He finally found himself in a small park and stopped running, breathing heavily. Kei sat on a bench and let himself cry. The joy he felt earlier in the evening was long gone and useless to him now. His phone vibrated again, and he pulled it out of his bag. Akaashi was calling him, but he declined it.

His other notifications were flooded. He clicked out of the messages between Yamaguchi and Akaashi. He had seven missed calls from his mother, and he quickly called her back.

“You’re okay!” were the first words out of her mouth. “Kei, you had me terrified. Your coaches called me asking if you were at home because their captain called them and said that you’d run out of the club room suddenly as if you’d been spooked by something. Nobody knew where you were.”

New tears traced their way down his cheeks. “I’m sorry, Mom,” he choked out. “I’m so sorry.”

“Where are you? I’ll come get you, and we can talk in person.”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?”

“I went to Shinjuku to see Akaashi-san from Fukurōdani that I told you about, and—” he couldn’t continue. “Our friendship is over, and I just ran.”

“Oh, my poor baby,” she said. “Can you send me a pin of where you are on a map? I’ll drive out to pick you up immediately. Just stay where you are. You can tell me all about it when I get there.”

“Okay,” he whispered. She stayed on the line with him while he opened the maps app and sent her his current location.

“It’s going to take me a little over half an hour to get there. Are you going to be okay by yourself?”

“I’ll be okay.”

“It looks like there’s a 7-11 just down the street from you. Do you need to get any food?”

“I’m not hungry,” he said.

“If you do get hungry, go there. You see it on the map, right?” He confirmed, and she continued, “Just keep me updated on where you are.”

She hung up a moment later, and Tsukishima laid on the bench staring at the notifications rolling in and denying every phone call. He couldn’t bring himself to click into any of the messages. They were pouring into the group chat for Nekoma and from his teammates directly, all of them hoping they would get through. Bokuto had joined in the hunt for him with a few messages, and Akaashi’s were frantically climbing in number.

Tsukishima’s lower lip trembled and sent him into more bouts of crying. Yamaguchi’s number and face appeared at the top of his screen with a phone call, and he answered.

“Hey,” Yamaguchi said when he picked up. “What happened?”

The simple question without accusation made him burst into another wave of tears. “He shared all of it.”

“Who shared what?” Yamaguchi asked patiently.

“Akaashi. He shared our private messages with Bokuto and Kuroo. They knew everything—they knew this whole time.”

Yamaguchi was quiet. It was a couple of minutes before he said, “Wow. I can’t say I personally know him well enough to say if it was expected or not.”

“What do you mean?”

“It kind of makes sense?” Yamaguchi said. “I mean, on our outing he was texting an awful lot, so I figured he must be sharing things with his partner. I thought you thought the same thing.”

“I never noticed,” Kei said. Emotion drained out of him again returning to the numb feeling.

“But, hey! You’re starting on Nekoma again.” It was clear Yamaguchi was trying to cheer him up by bringing him back to his earlier joy, but he just grunted in response. “Tsukki?”

“Hm?” he hummed. He couldn’t process any more information. He didn’t want to think. He really wanted to be done with Nekoma.

“Are you really okay?”

“No.” Tsukishima glanced at the time. He still had twenty minutes at least until his mom would be there. “My mom is almost here to pick me up. I’ll talk to you later.”

He pressed the end call button before Yamaguchi could say anything else. He didn’t want useless words of pity or attempts to cheer him up. He wanted to cease to exist on the park bench and be done with it all. The thought of returning to practice knowing that Kuroo knew all of it made his stomach turn. He had no doubt that he told Yaku, Kai, and Kenma. The way they treated him with kid gloves during the training camps was evidence enough of that. Secrets weren’t a part of his reality. If he didn’t want anyone to know something, it would have to stay inside him. None of his friends could be trusted. He had the suspicion that even Akaashi and Yamaguchi were communicating outside their group chat, and their conversation practically revealed that. Tadashi wasn’t even surprised that Akaashi would share information with people he wasn’t supposed to.

His phone vibrated again with a message from Naoi-sensei.

I’m glad your mom found you and is on her way to pick you up. Please try not to scare our captain like that again and let people you trust know where you are going. It’s very irresponsible to run off suddenly. We don’t want to see a similar incident when we’re playing the qualifiers in October, otherwise we can’t play you in games.

Sorry, Naoi-sensei. I won’t do it again.

Tsukishima continued to lay on the bench staring at notification after notification rolling in on his phone. Bokuto had turned to saying some rather nasty things to him about making Akaashi worry, but he wasn’t in the mood to deal with that. He debated opening the message and telling him to, “Fuck off.” He knew it would only lead to more anger, so he ignored it altogether.

The notification of the Nekoma group chat with Kuroo’s nickname of “King Cat” flashed at the top of the screen. “Coach said he’s been found. No more worries.” It was followed immediately by several messages from the other players including some chastisement in private chats, and he turned the screen off. It kept vibrating, and if he didn’t need his phone on for when his mom arrived, he would’ve turned the device off entirely.

He heard several cars pass, headlights flashed into the park, but every one continued on. The night dropped a few degrees, and it was still warm, but he shivered despite himself from the loss of energy through his crying. He sat up eventually and dropped his phone into his bag before kicking it over. Tsukishima wanted to storm and rage and throw his bag in a tree where he could never get it down again. He was just contemplating the best way to do so, kicking or throwing were both appealing, when the headlights of a car flashed and stopped.

His mother jumped out of the passenger seat and ran across the grassy field, ignoring the intentional walkways, to reach him. Her soft arms wrapped around his middle, and all the anger flooded out of him again. Tsukishima immediately started crying despite feeling like he should be out of tears. Fumiko started crying as well, and she grabbed his bag and led him softly toward the car. Akiteru stood with the driver’s side door open, and he climbed back in on their approach. Kei crawled into the backseat, and his mother surprised him by joining him. She pulled him gently into her side, and he lay in her lap while buckled in. Fumiko ran her fingers softly through his hair and hummed absentmindedly while Akiteru drove them back home.

She didn’t press for answers, and the soft call of the radio nearly lulled him to sleep.

“Mom, what do I do when I don’t have any friends?”

“Oh, sweetheart,” she reached for one of his hands and squeezed it softly. “I’m not sure I can find you friends, but we can look into other solutions. Do you want to move schools? Drop volleyball and join another club? You could probably still play with Akiteru.”

“I don’t know,” he said. “I just want one person I can trust.”

“I’m sorry you couldn’t find that in Akaashi-san. He seemed so nice.”

“Do you want to quit volleyball, Kei?” Akiteru asked. “I can drop by your resignation form tomorrow, or mom can call and withdraw you.”

He considered the offer for a moment. It was tempting. He knew he was better than Lev at the very least, and he knew it would partially screw over the team if he wasn’t playing—but he also wasn’t naïve enough to think that his disappearance from the sport would suddenly cause Nekoma to lose the qualifiers. They were good without him as he saw at the training camp.

The memory of him playing with Akiteru’s association team during the couple days off after the training camp came back to him. He remembered having fun, and he didn’t want to leave that feeling behind. Not yet.

“I don’t want to quit,” he mumbled. “I want to keep playing.” His mouth twitched as he considered what he actually wanted and needed. “I want a couple of days away from the team—just to process that they knew everything all along.”

“What do you mean?” Fumiko asked.

“Akaashi-san texted Kuroo-san screenshots of our private conversations. I didn’t tell him anything about my medical condition or how I felt because he didn’t need to know, but he knew all along. It’s obvious he told the others because they’ve been treating me like I’m about to break at any moment.”

“That’s not right,” Fumiko said. “He never should’ve shared that information without your permission. I can see why you’re so upset. I can call Naoi-sensei in the morning and let him know you’ll stay home from practice for a couple of days.”

“Can I practice with you, nii-san?” Kei asked.

“Of course. The association loves you. Mom can tell the coach you’re practicing privately for a couple of days.”

“Well, that’s settled then.” Fumiko continued to softly run her fingers through her son’s hair. “You should get some rest for now.”

Chapter Text

Akiteru woke his mother and brother when they arrived back home. They moved inside and voted on transforming their living room into a temporary family nest. His mother was a beta, same as his deceased father, so she wasn’t familiar with the process of making a nest. Akiteru learned about it from a few partners he had in the past, but he willingly let Kei arrange the bed for them. Yamaguchi once asked him how he and his brother didn’t end up as betas, and he had to explain that it was his parents who were the outliers in the family.

Once the coffee table was moved and Tsukishima had free reign of the room, he easily created three conjoined beds with his spot tucked in the middle. Neither his brother nor mother acknowledged the stuffed dinosaur that found its way into the nest. He knew they would’ve made jokes about it under more normal circumstances.

Tsukishima slept easily. In the morning, his mother woke him to get ready for school before preparing breakfast. He arrived early enough that he started working on test corrections and studying before class completely forgetting about the unread messages on his phone. It wasn’t until a shadow fell over his desk that they popped into his mind.

“Yo,” Yamamoto said.

“You’re not in this class,” Tsukishima responded coolly.

“What happened yesterday that made you run off suddenly? Kuroo was freaking out in the group chat.”

“I’m sorry to have been the cause of worry for you all. I’ll be more diligent in the future.”

“Tsukishima,” he growled.

Kei sighed. “I just—realized something. I left to go find out if it was true, and it was. It was disappointing, but now I know.”

Yamamoto pulled out the chair of the desk in front of Tsukishima and sat on it backwards. “Okay. Everything else is alright?”

“Why are you here?” Tsukishima asked, setting down his pencil.

“I’m sorry about ripping up your form. I realized that I had removed your agency from the situation, and I feel bad. I’m excited that you’re back on the main team, though. I think that whatever you decide to do, it’s going to be something that benefits who you are. You’re a guy who really knows who he is, and I admire that. I just wanted you to know that I would support whatever decision you make from here on out.”

He blinked, startled by the honesty. “I appreciate it.”

“Anyway, I won’t take up any more of your time.” Yamamoto stood.

Tsukishima didn’t make a move to say anything more, and he left the classroom.

“Are you dating a second year?” A girl a couple rows over leaned closer to him.

He shook his head. “He’s just a member of the volleyball team with me.”

“You’d make a cute couple,” she said before returning to her own work.

He snorted at the idea and tried to complete his corrections before homeroom started.

Akiteru’s team practiced later in the evening to accommodate for their student and work life demanding their normal daytime hours. That meant Tsukishima went home immediately after classes ended for the day, and he was grateful for the break. With the previous night, he didn’t check his notifications on his phone, and he was sure he had a mess of messages.

Tsukishima collapsed onto his bed and unlocked his phone. He considered the open messages before moving to his contacts app and blocking Akaashi’s and Bokuto’s numbers. He wanted to block Kuroo’s number as well, but there was a difference—Kuroo was his captain, and he didn’t have the same freedom he did with the other two. When he returned to his messages, he deleted the individual chats as well as the group chats that included them. He hoped Kuroo wouldn’t text that chat and refresh it in his feed.

With most of the negativity removed from his messages, he opened the messages from Yamaguchi first. After scrolling through, he saw nothing of importance that needed to be responded to. He didn’t trust Yamaguchi to not report back whatever he said to Akaashi, so he left it on read. He repeated the same process with most of the other texts from his teammates. The outliers were from Kuroo, Yamamoto, and Yaku. Kuroo’s texts were worried and seeking answers, but he saw no sense in responding this late. One text stood out among the rest.

I’m sorry I reported you to the coaches as missing. I had no idea where you went, and I was worried. I didn’t mean for you to get in trouble.

It was a kind enough message, but he wondered how much Kuroo really meant it. Flicking through Yaku’s messages there was a similar sentiment. Worry about where he was and that everything was okay. If it wasn’t for the fact that Tsukishima was convinced that Kuroo told him about Akaashi’s messages, he probably would’ve responded to the third year. Kai’s messages originally had a soft caring tone but turned to more chastising about his actions after he was located, and he didn’t care for the switch. It was Yamamoto’s messages that stood out the most among all of them.

Kuroo said you ran off earlier. Everything okay?

Did he say something to insult you? I’ll fight him.

He could probably land me on my ass, but I’ll do it anyway.

I really hope you’re okay. I know you’ve had a rough past couple of months—so I hope it wasn’t anything I or the team said earlier in the evening.

I’m really excited to have you back on the main line.

Update me that everything is alright, yeah?

Just heard word through Kuroo that you’ve been found. I’m glad everything is okay.

Please know that you can talk to me about anything.

But maybe you don’t know that. I’m really good at keeping secrets.

I’ve never told anyone, but I’ve known since first year that Kenma is my soulmate. I thought at first that I could chase him, but we were in almost constant conflict with each other, and I just realized that it wouldn’t work out. Not right now, anyway. Maybe in the future and maybe not. It’s okay either way. I just want to see him happy.

Sorry, that sounded really sappy. I know I’m not normally that guy.

Thanks for potentially listening at any rate. I’ll be here for you if you need to say anything.

There was something different about Yamamoto’s messages, and it was pleasant. He shared a secret willingly—one that could ruin the team dynamic. He knew Kenma was the one the universe meant for him, that they shared every injury, and he also knew there was something between Kuroo and Kenma that they couldn’t quite define. It was just one thing that kept Tsukishima from openly acknowledging how he felt about Kuroo despite everything that happened. Including knowing that he didn’t like his scent in the first place.

Thank you for trusting me. I’m pretty sure that Akaashi already told Kuroo, and he’s probably going to tell the others like usual. That’s what I found out last night. I thought Akaashi was my friend, and I shared secrets. Things I expected him to never tell anyone. I think even Yamaguchi is conspiring behind my back. I really appreciate you not being mad at me.

He knew Yamamoto wouldn’t respond until after practice, and he would be in his practice session with Akiteru at that point. Tsukishima was a little anxious to see what he had to say. Instead of waiting, he decided to work on some of his homework. He didn’t realize how much time passed until he heard Akiteru downstairs calling for him.

“Kei? You ready?”

“Coming, nii-san.” He grabbed his practice kit and rushed down the stairs, attempting not to slip on the hardwood in his socks. Safely downstairs, he tugged on his outdoor shoes and grabbed his volleyball shoes to change into.

“Everyone was excited when I told them you’d be joining us tonight,” Akiteru said.

“Really?” Kei followed him down the street. They had to take the train a few stops to the association gym.

“They were impressed with how well you played against us since you’re only in your first year of high school. They wouldn’t stop talking about you in our group chat. Well, I mean, they eventually did because we all have lives, but they are genuinely excited to have you practice with us again.”

“I was excited yesterday to practice again, but I’m not quite sure how I feel today,” he said honestly.

“I think that’s completely understandable. You’ve been on an emotional rollercoaster in the last twenty-four hours. I’m just proud you’re here coming with me.” Akiteru wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “You’ve grown a lot in the last couple of months.”

Tsukishima hummed. He couldn’t think of an adequate response, but the hoped the next three days he spent practicing with his brother showed how he felt.

Tsukishima and Yamamoto’s friendship renewed over text during his days away from Nekoma practicing with adults. They swapped more and more secrets and made plans for the weekend to attend a pop-up shopping area in the local mall. Tsukishima chose to come clean about his diagnosis to Yamamoto who appreciated his honesty and let him know he would tell no one despite their suspicions that Kuroo, Kai, Kenma, and Yaku already fully new.

By the time he returned to practice, they had a solid foundation for a friendship that immediately sparked the attention of the entire team when Yamamoto enthusiastically greeted him as he entered the clubroom.

“So, tell me about the other players on the team. You told me one of them was semi-attractive,” Yamamoto said.

“Semi-attractive, but more in an older brother way.” Tsukishima rolled his eyes and crossed the room to set his bag on the shelf. “He’s a year older than my actual brother which is gross.”

“Yes, but like, attractive in what way? You would never tell me.”

“And despite me not responding to that question in texts, you keep asking. I’m ignoring you for a reason.”

“I just wanna know what kind of people you’re into.”

“Why?” He changed swiftly into his kit to avoid prolonging their conversation further.

Yamamoto frowned. “I told you who I like and my types of people. I just wanted to know the same thing about you. Thought maybe we could help each other by finding the other’s type and whatnot.”

“Ah, that’s where you messed up,” Tsukishima said. “I’m not really interested in dating at all. I only texted you that he was attractive because I meant it in the conventional way. The person you see walking down the street who’s aesthetically pleasing to look at, but not much good for anything else.”

Yamamoto laughed brightly. “Alright, alright. I’ll let you daydream in peace about the trophy man. You swear you didn’t learn anything new or cool we could use?”

“If I did, it’d be way above your level,” Tsukishima said pointedly with a clear layer of teasing under the biting tone.

“Ouch. You wound me,” he clutched his chest dramatically.

“When did you two become such good friends?” Yaku asked standing dumbfounded by the clubroom door.

“Over the last couple of days. I apologized to Tsukishima for ripping up his form again after he went missing that one night then we started texting about a ton of random things.” Yamamoto shrugged. “He’s a good guy. Easy to get along with.”

“I’m pretty sure everyone here begs to differ on that one,” Tsukishima mumbled as he tied his shoes. “Oh, about this weekend, my mom wanted to know if you would like to join us for breakfast before we go.”

“Really? That’s so nice of her. I’ll let my mom know and come over earlier then.” He held the door open for Tsukishima to exit before following and continuing their conversation about the event. The door slammed behind them and shattered the manufactured silence of the team.

“What the fuck,” Kenma whispered.

“I’m going to get to the bottom of this.” Yaku quickly followed them.

“Why?” Kenma set down his video game and stared at Kuroo with something akin to disappointment gathering in his eyes.

Kuroo only shook his head. “Come on—if we stall any longer, we’ll be late and have the coaches after us. Put our focus into preparing for the October prelims. It doesn’t matter how close of friends we are on the team, together we’re going to beat everyone else, so we can be top in the November tournament.”

When Kuroo arrived in the gym, Yaku greeted him with information. “Apparently after the other night when he ran off and then found out that Akaashi was sending you information about him, Yamamoto was the only person on the team who didn’t send him some version of an upset message about him running off. He showed genuine concern the entire time, and Tsukishima responded kindly in turn. I have a feeling they’ve talked about other things because they already seem to have some inside jokes, but that’s as much as I could find out.”

“Thanks, Yaku.” Kuroo patted him on the shoulder. “I appreciate you trying to dig around.”

Yaku shrugged and walked away. Kuroo looked up and saw Tsukishima watching them suspiciously, as if he expected Yaku to be reporting back what he learned, but Yamamoto tugged at his arm a moment later and pulled him away.

Chapter Text

Tsukishima pulled the door open Saturday morning to find Yamamoto on his porch in a little more than simple casual clothes for shopping. He had a nice sweater on, and his school uniform slacks instead of loose jeans like Tsukishima chose to pair with a graphic T-shirt.

“Am I underdressed?” he asked.

“Oh, um.” Yamamoto lifted a hand to the back of his neck. “I’ve never really met a family of a friend before, I mean I know Fukunaga’s family, but we met at matches, so I wanted to look nice for meeting your mom. Make a good impression about us being friends.”

Tsukishima snorted, then smiled. “I appreciate it, but you don’t have to worry about that in the future. My mom is not judgmental of anyone she meets.” He eyed Yamamoto up again. “Although, should I be worried when I come over to your house? Do I need to dress nicer for your parents?”

Taketora leveled him with a bright grin. “Nah. My parents are super casual. Don’t remember ever seeing my dad in a button-up let alone a tie. He probably wore one for the last time when he was a third year in high school.”

“Come on in. My brother is joining us as well before he goes to work.”

“Hopefully he’s nicer than my little sister. You’ll have to watch out for her when you come over. I swear she was born to be a menace in my life.”

Tsukishima laughed and opened the door to the dining room. Yamamoto quickly slipped into the guest slippers laid out for him and followed.

“How old is Akane-san, again?”

“Thirteen. We barely miss being in high school together. I’ll have graduated by the time she’s a first year. You’ll be able to interact with her though, maybe. There is two years between you and her. She might become a team manager or something.”

“That would be great considering we don’t currently have any.”

“I know! It sucks.” He spotted Tsukishima Fumiko and immediately bowed. “It’s nice to meet you Tsukishima-san. Thank you so much for inviting me into your home. I’m Tsukishima’s teammate, Yamamoto Taketora.”

Fumiko blinded him with a bright smile. “It’s so good to meet you, Yamamoto-kun. I was worried about Kei not having any friends on the team, so I’m happy to see that he’s close with at least one person. Come sit and eat. It’s nothing too fancy, but I hope it’s filling.”

Of course, the food she considered to not be anything much was actually quite complex. Tsukishima quickly took a seat and pointed out the free one to Yamamoto, so he could sit and enjoy the place setting of gohan, shiozake, miso soup, natto, tamagoyaki, and pickled vegetables.

Akiteru wasn’t at the table yet, but they ate quietly as was tradition. They didn’t usually eat their meals together as a family as they had a number of things to take care of during the week, but the weekend provided them a unique opportunity to share meals that they took more often than not.

“Where are the two of you going again?”

“There’s a pop-up shopping experience in Hikarigaoka IMA Main that Yamamoto wanted to visit.”

“Well, that sounds like fun. Do you need any money to spend?” Fumiko asked.

Kei shook his head. He knew his mother only asked to be polite and hide the truth of their finances from Yamamoto, and he had no plans to embarrass her by actually, and boldly, asking for money she didn’t have. “I’ve been saving my allowance to spend if I find anything I like.”

“Well, keep me updated.” The door opened. “Ah, Akiteru, there you are.”

“Nii-san,” Kei greeted. Yamamoto cautiously repeated the term with a bow.

Tsukishima Akiteru was intimidating. He wasn’t as tall as his younger brother, but he still had several centimeters on Yamamoto, and he was broader built. He recognized the skinny build was a family trait, but everything else from the casualness of his entry to the careless way he yawned put Yamamoto on edge for some unexplained reason.

“You’re the friend Kei told us about.”

Yamamoto bowed again, but he wasn’t quite sure what to say.

“He’s normally much louder than this,” Tsukishima said. “I think he’s trying to make a good impression on you.”

Akiteru laughed brightly. “Smart kid. Better than you. You won’t even try to suck up to anyone. I hope you have fun on your outing today.” He carefully slid a one-thousand-yen bill under the table to Kei who took it swiftly and quietly. Akiteru mouthed the word lunch when neither his mother nor Yamamoto were looking.

“Thank you.” Tsukishima finished his plate under Yamamoto’s watchful eye as he kept his promise to make sure Kei ate proper meals. “We should get going. The lines are going to start filling up, now.”

“Yeah.” Yamamoto quickly finished his breakfast. “Thank you for the food. I really appreciate you feeding me on such short notice.”

“It’s no trouble. Come back any time you like.”

When they left the house five minutes later, Yamamoto said, “So, your mom doesn’t think you have any friends?”

“Oh, she knows,” Tsukishima said. “Yamaguchi was my only friend prior to moving and that’s—well, you know. After the whole issue with Akaashi as well, I think she was really worried I had no one only for you to turn up.”

“It’s like you’re a lost puppy,” Taketora smirked then his face turned to one of horror. “No! A lost kitten, stuck in a tree, not a puppy. We’re literally on Nekoma! What is wrong with me?”

Tsukishima rolled his eyes. “I don’t think you actually want me to list the ways.”

Their bickering continued all the way to the train station before they took the few stops to Hikarigaoka IMA Main. Their shopping was full of less arguments and took them nearly all over the mall as they wandered around looking at all the options. Overall, their morning into early afternoon was enjoyable, and Tsukishima found himself somehow talked into buying a matching phone charm with Yamamoto who insisted they were cool.

“It just looks like we’re dating,” Tsukishima said scathingly.

“Nah, it doesn’t.”

“You could maybe get away with it with Fukunaga-san, but we’re opposite secondary genders, Yamamoto. It would be the most logical conclusion by anyone who sees us with them.” He tucked his phone into his pocket.

“I chose neutral ones!” Yamamoto complained.

“Still,” Kei paused at the frown on his friend’s face, and a wave of guilt rushed over him. “Like you said, it’ll be okay though. We don’t really interact with enough people, and nobody is going to pay that close attention to our phone decoration.” Even though no one else on the team decorates their phones. He kept that thought to himself.

Yamamoto was quiet for their walk to the food course, and a growing fear set off the panic alarms in Tsukishima’s mind that he’d managed to ruin their friendship over cell phone charms. He fought to keep his scent neutral, but he wasn’t sure it was fully working.

“Yamamoto, I’m sorry I said anything about the charms. I do really like the style you picked out,” he tried.

“Tora.”

“What?” Tsukishima asked.

“I was thinking that you should call me Tora, if we’re gonna be friends. It’s the name I prefer to go by when people know me, and you definitely know more secrets about me than Fukunaga—he calls me Tora, so you should, too. Most of the team usually calls me Tora during matches because it’s shorter.”

“Oh, um—” He wasn’t really comfortable with nicknames, and Yamaguchi was the only one who ever called him “Tsukki.” He wanted to return the favor, but his first name was so short, and Kei felt too intimate—it was something he’d wanted only his soulmate and his family to call him. It wouldn’t feel right coming from Yamamoto. “I guess you can call me Tsukki if you want.”

“You don’t have to return the favor. I don’t mind calling you Tsukishima if it’s what you prefer.” Yamamoto grinned. “If you’re offering though, I may call you it every once in a while—maybe to indicate that I’m joking around?”

Kei nodded, relieved that it wouldn’t be a constant thing the rest of the team would notice. They would probably take note of him calling Yamamoto “Tora” almost immediately, but it ultimately didn’t matter. They were friends, and it was his sincere request. He could make some sacrifices.