microfiction compendium

[necessarian]

i've been putting together a big proper masterlist of all my fic and i realised i have so many tiiiiiny things on tumblr that really don't belong on the masterlist as individual fics, so i'm dumping them all here! the first one is j/b and the rest are hq \o/

Jaime x Brienne - tumblr Bad Valentines Day Cards 3/2/15

“I don’t know what to do,” Brienne tells Margaery, wedging her phone in the crook of her neck as she takes the frying pan off the stove. “I’ve made a fancy meal for both of us, pulled out all the stops, but all of today he’s been sending me these dumb Valentine’s jokes from tumblr, and they’re just—they’re so awful, Marg!”

 

Margaery’s voice echoes down the line loud and clear: “Dump him.”

~

Oisuga with 17? 23/3/15

 

The elevator creaks once, twice, and then stops. Tooru jerks backwards, steadying himself against the wall of his new metal prison. Now would not be a good time for any mild claustrophobia to surface.

 

At least he has a companion.

 

“Ah,” Suga says, “looks like we’ll be trapped for a while…”

 

Tooru nods, trying to play it cool as he watches Suga press the emergency button. There’s not much they can do now but wait.

 

“It’s a pity,” Suga continues. “I don’t like the idea of missing lab. Still, I’ve sort of always wanted to be trapped in an elevator.”

 

Tooru lets his mouth hang open. “You, uh—”

 

“There are so many things we can do to keep ourselves occupied until help arrives,” Suga says.

 

They have a hard time explaining to the maintenance crew, when they arrive, why their shirts are on the floor.

~

KyouHaba and 31 9/7/15

“Blame me,” Kyoutani says.

 

It catches Shigeru off-guard, while they’re waiting for the bus to take them back to school after their final match of Spring High. Semi-finals aren’t bad, but they’re not good enough either—Shigeru’s been taking as much blame as he can onto his own shoulders, because he knows he could have done better, worked harder, made more of a difference for the upperclassmen.

 

So to hear Kyoutani, of all people, saying that—it’s disconcerting, almost like he’d been reading Shigeru’s mind.

 

“Why would I do that?” Shigeru asks, trying not to let his voice sound too strained. He’s tired, he’s sore, and he doesn’t want to think about it.

 

“That’s what you’re good at,” Kyoutani says, “blaming me for all your shit. Go on, do it again, tell me it was my fault.”

 

Shigeru decides to surprise him. “You played—well, you weren’t bad.”

 

Kyoutani hums. “You’ll blame me tomorrow,” he grumbles.

 

Shigeru wonders if that’s true.

~

I don't know if you ship ennoaka. If not, ennofuta & 39 please! 15/7/15

From one side of the net to the other is a long distance, even longer from the bench. Chikara knows that reasonably he should be focusing on both teams playing, his own team as well as Fukuroudani, but then there’s Akaashi.

 

Akaashi is so out-of-this-world he may as well be from another planet, quiet but threatening, aloof but kind. Chikara’s only spoken to him a couple of times, but every time has been—special, almost. They’re both second years, and there’s the unspoken agreement that they’ll both be captains of their respective teams next year.

 

Then there are the quiet moments, gaps between conversation, sitting together at dinner or in between practice matches. Still, they’re not quite enough to communicate what Chikara wants to say, what he won’t say, what he’ll bottle up until training camp is over and he doesn’t have to think about Akaashi anymore.

 

And that’s fine—for now, watching from the other side of the bench, a secret is enough.

~

"kurodai" and "escaping prison" for the writing meme?? (if you have time thank you!!) 21/9/15

“C’mon,” Kuroo says, more to himself than anyone, “doubles—”

 

He rolls the dice, and they land on a two and a four. That’s jail for another turn then. Leaning across the board to Daichi, he wraps an arm around the back of his neck, pulls him in for a kiss—long, and slow, how he knows Daichi prefers it—whispers, “Does it work if I seduce the warden?”

 

Daichi has That Face on, though, as he says, “Kuroo, I like you, but I wouldn’t even trade my Get Out Of Jail Free card for Mayfair, let alone a kiss.”

 

“Oh well,” Kuroo mumbles, pulling back and rolling the dice across the board to Daichi, who is on the verge of passing Go. “Worth a shot.”

~

bokuaka, some sort of jealousy-related situation!! 22/9/15

If Koutarou were to count the minutes he had been staring longingly in Akaashi’s direction, he would soon run out of fingers, and then toes, and if he started switching to strands of hair to count with, he’d probably run out of those too. If he were to add up the minutes, he’d soon reach hours—or at least that’s how it felt, when in reality Akaashi had only just opened his bento, displaying the immaculate sushi within to grace Koutarou’s vision.

 

Chopsticks halfway between the bento and his mouth, Akaashi pauses. “Bokuto-san. If you’re hungry, you should just say so.”

 

“I forgot my lunch,” Koutarou says, which is sort of true. It’s not his fault that he was hungry on the morning train. And then hungry in first period. And second period. Anyway, it looks so good that he adds, “Plus, I’m jealous.”

 

Akaashi rolls his eyes, lowering his chopsticks back down. “Jealous that a piece of sushi is getting closer to my mouth than you?”

 

And, without warning, he turns his head and graces Koutarou’s lips with the briefest of kisses. It wasn’t what Koutarou meant—but maybe this is better.

~

LevYakuuuuuuuu, windy days!! 25/9/15

Today is the day that Yaku has given in. He has thrown away what’s left of his dignity, sealed it in cement, wrapped it in chains, condemned it to the bottom of the ocean. The wind is blowing a gale, and Lev begins with, “Yaku-san should hold my hand, just in case the wind blows him away!”

 

And Yaku. Gives. In.

 

He reaches up—actually has to physically lift his arm—to hold Lev’s hand, and his own feels completely subsumed by Lev’s endless fingers and vast palm.

 

“You’re lucky I like you,” Yaku says. “We look like a joke.”

 

Lev bends down and kisses Yaku on the head. “If I were much shorter, I wouldn’t be able to do that,” he says, content, like it’s the most natural thing in the world—and, maybe, it is.
 

~

KuroDai, captain's meeting 25/9/15

“You said this was meant to be a captain’s meeting,” Daichi says, narrowing his eyes. “Only, it looks like just you and me.”

 

“Oh, damn,” Kuroo says, “I could have sworn I invited the others.”

 

Daichi sighs—he wishes he had it in him to be annoyed. “You’re so transparent,” he says. “This is more like a date than anything else.”

 

Kuroo bends down, just a bit, and kisses him on the cheek. “You think?”

~

MatsuHana, and A GIANT HEAD SHAPED SHAMPOO STAIN :P :P :P this is a bonus hi 25/9/15

When Takahiro looks up, Issei’s fingers still in his hair, he butts his head into Issei’s shirt with the sort of spectacular timing that only they can manage.

 

“Ugh, sorry—”

 

As if to say, it’s fine, Issei takes Takahiro’s chin in his hand and tilts it up so that their mouths connect, slowly at first, but then with more force as Takahiro moves upwards, closer—

~

OiSuga - libRAry PLEASe 25/9/15

☆ Item #5

 

Location: Library (behind the stacks)

 

Time elapsed: 5:31:07

 

Description: Texted Suga during maths, suggested we try kissing in the library today. Suggestion carried as a unanimous motion. Arrived at the library just after our lectures had ended for the day, other students slowly filtering out for evening classes. Found a quiet place—Dewey decimal 874, Latin lyric poetry—talked for a while, although not for long. Suga advises decorum: overruled.

~

Heyheyhey, EnnoFuta + scarves !!! 25/9/15

Kenji’s hands are calloused from knitting when he shows up at eight in the morning on what must be the coldest day on record since they started keeping records—or, maybe it’s just cold because he’s been awake all night knitting, literally knitting his boyfriend a scarf, until his fingers were shaking too much from the cold to keep going. As he texts from outside the door—instead of ringing the doorbell, because that’s just rude at eight on a Sunday—he briefly wonders whether it was worth it. When Chikara opens the door, though, still in his pyjamas and not even shivering, he takes the scarf around Kenji’s neck into his hands and pulls him close for a kiss to his numb lips—and, yeah, it’s worth it.

~

hanamaki/matsukawa for the ask meme! 25/9/15

Ridiculous—right?—but Hanamaki starts categorising their kisses. He keeps lists and lists within lists, a great, sprawling library in his mind of every time he and Matsukawa kiss, because they still haven’t told anyone, so it’s still something he can list, something he knows is only his secret. The problem with keeping lists is that it’s always different—sometimes they’re quiet, gentle, behind the library after school, sometimes they’re loud, full of momentum, in the middle of a hallway or outside the gym. Sometimes Matsukawa asks, “Can I kiss you?”—other times, it’s just a turn of the head, a tacit agreement to meet in the middle. It’s never a bad thing, though, even when things are bad—sometimes it’s a consolation, but most of the time it’s the prize.

~

//whispers: EnnoFuta in Howl's Moving Castle AU// 26/9/15

Kisses are something that people fantasise about, something for princes and princesses, and maybe for magicians too, but not for people like Chikara, quiet, solitary, unassuming. Until, of course, they’re not, and they become very real, and surprisingly frequent, and eventually, mundane.

 

Their first kiss—Chikara and the magician—is on the balcony, as the wind blows either side of them. It’s agreed upon in a look, and when Chikara realises what’s happening it’s almost too late—Futakuchi is leaning down, eyes half-closed, and Chikara gasps, turning away. Instead, Futakuchi kisses his cheek.

 

“It doesn’t matter,” Futakuchi says. “We can try again.”

 

“Now,” Chikara insists. Now, his aim is true, and it’s more magical than any of the strange things that’ve been happening to him, like his still-white hair and the castle moving around him, more vivid than any fantasy, more fantastical than anything that could possibly be real.

~

oisuga for the kiss meme because of course, and some sort of comforting kiss? 26/9/15

(content warnings: anxiety + panic attacks)

 

Tooru doesn’t run, because people stare if you run—instead, he walks away calmly, his chest tight, telling himself he can breathe through his nose. Suga—Suga follows, which isn’t new, but right now, Tooru wishes he could just be alone—

 

“Hey,” Suga says quietly, “tell me if you want me to go.”

 

He’s like a mind reader, sometimes, and that changes Tooru’s mind. Tooru shakes his head slowly, and holds out his hands for Suga to grasp.

 

“You got this,” Suga says quietly. He leans forward, asking for permission, and Tooru nods. As his breathing steadies, Suga leans in and kisses him, just gently, just enough that Tooru feels a bit of his spark return, like his lips are a lifeline.

 

“Yeah,” Tooru says. “I know.”

~

matsuhana and "art accidents" for the kiss prompt thing? Thank you! 26/9/15

There’s paint smeared across Matsukawa’s face, running down his neck, splattered across his school shirt like a crime scene and somehow completely missing his apron. He blinks, and there’s paint in his eyelashes. It’s almost Seijou blue, but school spirit is no excuse for this sort of mess. The tube of acrylic paint in his hands is a burst mess, sticking under his fingernails and dripping slowly beneath his cuffs.

 

The next surprise, after the exploding tube of paint, is Hanamaki swiping his thumb across Matsukawa’s eyes, and when Matsukawa opens his eyes Hanamaki is really close, and the next thing they’re kissing, in the middle of class, and there’s probably paint on Hanamaki’s lips, and—it’s the best kiss Matsukawa’s ever had.

~

HanaMatsu + "selfishness" !! \w/ take it as you will, Memochi! 26/9/15

“I’m—”

 

—Takahiro leans in, runs a finger along Issei’s chin, up to his ear—

 

“—keeping—”

 

—around, behind and into his messy hair, pressing down the palms of his fingertips—

 

“—you—”

 

—moves closer, so that their noses are touching, closes and opens his eyes to make sure he’s not just seeing things—

 

“—to—”

 

—and then presses his lips to Issei’s, just for a second, and pulls back to finish his sentence:

 

“—myself.”

~

kuroaka and 6 30/10/15

Kuroo loves joint practices with Fukuroudani. Loves them. Loves that it’s an excuse to spend some time with his excessively studious boyfriend, even though they can’t really kiss on court—only for want of the net between them, though. And Akaashi is kinda prim. He probably wouldn’t be into kissing in front of everyone.

 

—which is why Kuroo waits until they’re cleaning up, putting away the net and gathering up the balls, to pinch Akaashi’s sleeve and drag him outside the gym for just a second, for the most fleeting of kisses before they go back in, before anyone notices they’re missing.

~

omg okaz number 11 with tananoya please just fuck me up thank u 30/10/15

“—but my favourite part of you,” Yuu says, because he loves the way it makes Ryuu blush and fidget, “is here.”

 

He prods his finger right into Ryuu’s collarbone, grinning.

 

“Ouch!” Ryuu says, leaning backwards. “That hurt.”

 

“No way,” Yuu says. “You’re just being a baby.”

 

Ryuu tries his best to put on a serious frown. “Yes way. You’re gonna have to kiss it better.”

 

Yuu looks up, and they share a smile.

~

tsukibros with #4: forehead kiss? 30/10/15

Akiteru rubs his eyes—it’s late, and he’s tired, duly exhausted after a long celebration for his tenth birthday. He’s never been up until nine before, and he feels a little proud, a little rebellious. In triumph, he wanders past where his baby brother is asleep on the couch.

 

“Kei,” he says. “Hey, Kei. Wake up. It’s still my birthday!”

 

Kei is a very annoying baby, and just keeps sleeping.

 

“Tch,” Akiteru mumbles to himself. “Suit yourself.” He pecks Kei on the forehead and tiptoes away, leaving him in the quiet of the house for their mum to carry him to bed when she’s done putting away the cake.

~

WAH... HOW ABOUT ushimoni + #22 :3c 30/10/16

As usual, Kaname overthinks things. He has a speech prepared, and a list of references he can cite if need be, in order to convince Wakatoshi that it’s time for them to take the next step in their relationship: using tongue. He writes the speech out on flashcards and runs through it twice in the mirror before leaving for Wakatoshi’s place that afternoon, and reads his flashcards over and over on the bus.

 

It’s all for nothing, though—when Wakatoshi lets Kaname in and closes the door behind them, it’s straight to business, Wakatoshi’s arms around his waist, bending down, leaning in for a kiss. And, when their tongues come into contact, Kaname drops his flashcards.

~

EVEN BIGGER EYE EMOJI IF POSSIBLE /FUKUTORA/ 30/10/16

Fukunaga still doesn’t talk much, but that’s just fine by Taketora, because he has other ways of expressing himself. Taketora wouldn’t admit it aloud, but he’s developed an encyclopaedic knowledge of Fukunaga’s small mannerisms and what they mean. He’s practically a world expert. His favourite is the kiss on the nose—what that means, Taketora wouldn’t admit out loud either.

~

Kiss meme: Konoha/Akaashi + 13, please! 30/10/15

It’s the middle of summer and they’re curled around each other like cats, the air heavy with the smells of sweat and fresh watermelon. When Konoha twists to reach for the remote to adjust the AC, he sees Akaashi’s shirt riding up, just a bit, and kisses his exposed skin in passing. He flops over Akaashi’s middle, hand extended for the remote, but it’s just that little bit too far. He’s too warm, but he doesn’t want to move either. It makes matters easier when Akaashi shifts, takes the remote and slips it beneath Konoha’s palm. “Don’t make it too cold,” he says, running the fingers of his other hand through Konoha’s hair. 

~

eye emoji *whisp* kinonari 30/10/15

It’s rare that there’s a moment like this, with just the two of them in the clubroom. And, god, Kinoshita is tired. He slumps against Narita, not even bothering to use an arm to steady himself or anything. There’s a gap just between Narita’s neck and his t-shirt where Kinoshita’s head fits perfectly, and he plants a quick kiss on Narita’s collarbone before settling in. Narita wraps an arm around him, pulling him closer. They don’t need to say anything.

~

matsuhana and 6 !! 30/10/15

“You’ll be fine,” Matsukawa says, for maybe the tenth time. “Just, don’t think about nerves, or any of that.”

 

Hanamaki hums, slipping his fingers through Matsukawa’s. “Maybe I need something to calm me down.”

 

While no-one’s looking, Matsukawa leans down and kisses him quickly on the lips. “More after,” he says.

 

He’s greeted with a grin in return, and he can’t help but wonder if Hanamaki really was nervous in the first place. It takes a second, but Hanamaki eventually lets go of his hand and takes a deep breath. Matsukawa thinks he’ll be fine. 

~

21 or 22 for oishira 30/10/15

Shirabu is used to looking up to Oikawa—literally—but now it’s an inconvenience, standing on his toes just to get a decent angle for their kiss. It’s only ten centimetres, but it feels like a kilometre.

 

“You know,” Oikawa says, sounding a little impatient, “if you stood on your toes I could probably use more tongue.”

 

“Or you could bend down,” Shirabu snaps.

 

He knows Oikawa likes a challenge, knows how to press his buttons—and they meet in the middle, lips, teeth, and tongue, all in.

~

13 or 14 iwaoi 30/10/15

Their first kiss, as it turns out, is by accident. Not that Tooru’s been anticipating it, or anything. That’d be stupid. Seriously stupid. And it’s not like it’s his first kiss, anyway, obviously not—if he’d never kissed before, he wouldn’t have been the perfect person to offer Yahaba kissing advice on the third night of training camp.

 

Not that Yahaba’s a very receptive student, but he’ll thank Tooru when he’s older.

 

“So, you purse your lips like this—”

 

—at the same time as Iwaizumi steps between them, half-naked and headed for the bathrooms, with a “’Scuse me, coming through—”

 

—and Tooru’s pursed lips come in contact with the skin right above the hem of Iwaizumi’s shorts.

 

“Like that?” Yahaba teases.

 

Tooru struggles to formulate a response, staring after Iwaizumi, who quite clearly didn’t register what happened at all. It takes him a moment to collect himself. “Of course not like that!” he bristles.

 

(Later, he’ll find out that Iwaizumi did realise, but was blushing too hard to do anything other than run away, and he’ll get to do it again—this time, on purpose.)

~

15 or 4 for ennofuta!! 30/10/15

It’s reassurance, sometimes, and that’s all Futakuchi needs—when it’s raining outside and he feels as overcast as the weather, bored, useless. Ennoshita sweeps past, pauses, doubles back on himself, steadies a hand on Futakuchi’s shoulder and leans down to kiss him on the forehead.

 

“Thanks,” Futakuchi mumbles, even though Ennoshita’s already gone again.

~

so, terushira and 15, 30/10/15

“You came all this way to watch,” Shirabu says. It’s not framed as a question, more as an expression of disbelief. He’s getting his head around it that someone would take a train to Tokyo in the middle of one of the worst storms the country’s ever seen—for him.

 

Terushima rubs the back of his head—wow, he looks different with the rain washing out all of that hair gel—and laughs. “Yeah?”

 

That shouldn’t be framed as a question, less an expression of disbelief in himself. So Shirabu does the only thing that makes sense anymore, throws his umbrella down and his arms up around Terushima’s neck. He’s drenched within a second, but it’s the best kiss he’s ever had.

~

seijou 2+3 = 5?????? 16/11/15

Their first kiss is not gentle, tender, romantic. It’s not pretty, and there’s no camera angle that would make it a work of art. It’s messy, sweaty, fingers curled between the curves of number 3 on a polyester shirt and in tangles of curling black hair, under the blinding lights of the gymnasium, against the net, in front of their friends and teammates—in victory, satisfied in the knowledge that even if they don’t win their next match, this is the real prize.

~

9 for levyakuuuuuu??? 16/11/15

Sometimes, Yaku reminds Lev of their old school’s mascot, especially when he’s cold or tired or both, on a morning like this. Lev lives for these mornings, when Yaku doesn’t say much, just clings to him like a cat and refuses to get out of bed. It’s very sweet. Yaku is always alert and talkative that Lev is happy to have him like this sometimes—not that he doesn’t like him when he’s alert and talkative too—with a hand in Lev’s hair and a leg wrapped around his, and leaning up to press his lips to Lev’s jaw. That’s enough, really.

~

1 or 2 FOR UR FAVE 1 CAPTAIN/2 VICE SHIP!!!! 22/11/15

Oikawa kisses like he plays volleyball: with fervour and determination, with skill and strength, but with a sort of tenderness and respect that you only afford something you really, truly care about above and beyond everything else. Theoretically, Suga knows that Oikawa obviously cares more about volleyball than he cares about him—they’ve only been dating for a little while—but the way Oikawa’s tongue runs along the side of Suga’s mouth, from his lips to his gums and scraping across his teeth, and the way their lips slide together, and the way Oikawa’s so handsy, palms and fingers everywhere at once—well, it’s almost enough to convince Suga, just for a moment, that he’s #1 on Oikawa’s list.

~

Actually I can't resist because I'm a sap, KinoNari + 5 (ʃƪ ˘ ³˘) 23/11/15

“Hey,” Kinoshita says, “look at me.”

 

At first, Narita’s eyes are still cast to the side, but Kinoshita puts his hands to Narita’s cheeks and centres his gaze. “Look at me.”

 

“You know it wasn’t good enough,” Narita says. Shit, his voice is so soft, breaking on the edge of tears.

 

“You’ll never be a Tsukishima,” Kinoshita says. He pauses. “For one, you’re too short—”

 

Narita laughs weakly. “Thanks.”

 

“—and you don’t need to be,” Kinoshita finishes. “You play well in your own right. You're—Kazuhito, you—”

 

Sometimes, actions do it better than half-mumbled platitudes. Kinoshita closes the distance between them and firmly presses his lips to Narita’s.

 

“You did your best,” Kinoshita says, “against fucking Shiratorizawa. I think that’s incredible.”

 

The ghost of a smile makes its way onto Narita’s face. “I think you’re—”

 

“No, don’t say it!” Kinoshita says, and, to stop this from turning into a moment, he kisses Narita again, harder.

~

3! daisuga 8))) 23/11/15

If there’s one thing Daichi’s learnt, over the course of their almost-three-year acquaintance, it’s that Suga’s a very physical person. He pokes and prods and he’s even left Daichi with a few accidental bruises from his enthusiasm. He builds up to a hug like a run-up to a synchronised toss, and when he’s sleepy he’s even more affectionate, always resting his head on Daichi’s shoulder.

 

When he kisses, though, he’s more withdrawn. They’ve been dating for a month already, and Suga hasn’t done anything more than kiss him on the cheek. And, when Daichi says, “Hey, kiss me properly,” Suga gets this look on his face, and leans forward, and—

 

—and kisses Daichi on the nose.

 

“Hey,” he says, as Daichi’s face falls, “what were you expecting?”

~

kurodai + 4! 23/11/15

Daichi’s never seen Kuroo sleep. Okay, well, he’s only been around Kuroo a few times, but there’s something quite peaceful about watching him sleep. At least this way there’ll be no loud but friendly teasing, the sort that usually gets Daichi fired up enough to pull a few punches. They have that sort of rapport. But like this—this is good too. Impulsively, Daichi leans down and kisses Kuroo on the forehead. It’s short, gentle, and Kuroo barely stirs. But then, a moment later, he twists, curls so that he’s lying around Daichi like a cat. Daichi couldn’t resist running a hand through Kuroo’s ridiculous hair even if he tried. Yeah—it’s nice like this. 

~

3 or 10 for fau oihana tyvm lmao 23/11/15

(just so everyone knows, fau is a very particular famous!AU)

 

The cameras go off, and Oikawa’s arm tightens around Hanamaki’s waist. Jostling a bit so that  he doesn’t end up looking like arm candy, Hanamaki steps a little bit more into the light. This is their first time on the red carpet together—that is, together together, and Hanamaki would be stupid if he denied his nerves, but he’d also be stupid not to capitalise on this occasion. And he doesn’t want anyone to think that he’s the pretty but useless one in this relationship. No, that’s definitely Oikawa.

 

Stupid, perceptive Oikawa. “Scared, Hiro-chan?”

 

“Call me that one more time and I’ll step on your toes,” Hanamaki says, snapping to—okay, to cover for nerves.

 

Oikawa laughs, standing on his toes as Hanamaki leans away from him and moving to kiss him on the nose. “You’re cute when you’re nervous,” he says—and Hanamaki’s aware of the flashes getting more frequent now, the lights getting brighter—and adds, “now, smile for the cameras!”

~
 

10 or 11 matsuoi! 23/11/15

It’s not often that it’s just the two of them. Oikawa and Iwaizumi are always famously inseperable, and Matsukawa’s the same with Hanamaki, but having a best friend is different to having a boyfriend, even though they’re only tentatively using that word. So, they find time, in the moments in between—before school, after practice, moments like now, in the changing room after a match that might not have gone as well as they’d wanted it to. Oikawa buries his head in the crook of Matsukawa’s neck, presses his lips to his collarbone, works his way up to his jaw.

 

“Maybe next time,” Matsukawa whispers.

 

“Yeah,” Oikawa says. “Next time.”

~

"In hindsight, leaving this task up to him was a really bad idea." 21/5/16

 

In hindsight, leaving this task up to him was a really bad idea. Unfortunately, while Ennoshita was blessed with the gift of impeccable hindsight, his foresight was still lacking, and he watched Noya approach Datekou’s captain, his stomach sinking.

 

“Hey,” Noya said, “my friend wants your number!”

 

From a distance, Ennoshita could just see Datekou’s captain raise both his eyebrows, one of them disappearing under his fringe. “Um, I don’t think so,” he said. “Maybe another time.”

-
 

In hindsight, leaving this task up to him was a really bad idea. Unfortunately, while Ennoshita was blessed with the gift of impeccable hindsight, his uni friends had no such foresight, and so he was urged ahead as the hapless proxy, twisting his phone between his fingers.

 

“Hey,” he said to the man at the bar, strangely familiar, “my, uh—my friend wants your number.”

 

“Does he?” Datekou’s former captain asked, raising his eyebrows, one of them disappearing under his fringe. “Or is it for you?”

~

The bus ride back home isn't silent, and she thinks this is a good sign. 22/5/16

The bus ride back home isn’t silent, and she thinks this is a good sign. This means they can snap back quickly, move past it before they really notice anything has gone wrong. Nametsu is sitting at the front of the bus, and she knows that if she looks over her shoulder she’ll become part of the sound, so she keeps her face forward, her eyes closed.

 

So, they lost. They’ve lost before, before she was their manager, and they’ll lose again, after she is gone. And with the noises that flow towards her, surrounding her in a sea of voices and laughter, she knows it won’t matter—so long as they keep growing.

~


"I knew you'd be against it," Futakuchi has the sheer audacity to say, "so I made a spreadsheet for you." 28/5/16

 

“I knew you’d be against it,” Futakuchi has the sheer audacity to say, “so I made a spreadsheet for you.”

 

Onagawa is quietly of the opinion that their new training regime still won’t fly with the team, but he is a masochist—the only way he can explain how much time he spends around Futakuchi—so he signals for him to keep going.

 

Koganegawa, though, is not so tactful, and he says, “How can a spreadsheet prove that we need all these extra hours of practice?”

 

“It’s so we actually have a shot at Nationals next year,” Onagawa says, impatient.

 

“Oh,” Futakuchi says, “but that’s where you’re wrong. I have taken the liberty of itemising every incident over the last two years where my sour gummies have been purloined, and taken note of the culprit on each occasion—but since I’m such a benevolent captain, I won’t hold it against you, if you won’t hold the extra training against me.”