Work Text:
Golden hues of morning sunlight seep through the dusty windows and the open door of the volleyball clubroom. Asahi shields his eyes so the light doesn’t blind him as he shoves his volleyball sneakers into his locker and ties the laces of his school uniform shoes.
With the exception of Tanaka and Noya— who Asahi’s sure wouldn’t stop talking to breathe, were breathing unnecessary to staying alive— the clubroom is quiet. This isn’t unusual. He’s glad that once again he feels familiar with the Karasuno Volleyball Club. Now that he regularly has volleyballs to spike across the net, he no longer feels like a piece of driftwood washed ashore.
Daichi and Suga show up together, and Asahi’s reminded of that he no longer feels like he might accidentally vomit when he looks at, thinks about, or talks to Daichi. If those pesky feelings had remained— along with Daichi’s relationship with Suga— Asahi probably wouldn’t have returned to the club, despite the orange-haired first year’s persistence.
It’s a relief— an insurmountable to relief— to feel nothing but warmth at the sight of his two best friends making each other happy; though he does feel a deep pit of embarrassment in his stomach whenever he remembers that they lost a game because of him after he learned of their relationship. That same pit of embarrassment digs itself even deeper at the memory of Nishinoya finding him crying in the locker room afterward.
Just when he thought he was done with feeling like he's going to throw up around his teammates. He shakes his head and hopes against all reason that one day, science will find a way to permanently wipe embarrassing memories from the brains of people like Asahi who would sooner die than ever embarrass themselves again. (Asahi wonders whether this fear dooms him to a life of a continual embarrassment.)
The memory of the locker room causes his heart to race and his cheeks to flush when he hears, “Asahi-san!” in Noya’s distinct, clear voice.
He doesn’t miss how Daichi and Suga exchange a look, but they know nothing about what happened in the locker room after that game all those months ago. He doesn’t have enough time to dwell on what it could mean because suddenly Noya’s standing in front of and looking down at him.
Asahi pauses, shoelace half-tied, and looks up at the libero.
“Asahi-san,” Noya says, “Tanaka and I made a bet, and you’re going to help me win.”
Asahi blinks. “Uh—” but the way Noya said it makes him think he doesn’t have much choice in the matter. “Okay.”
Not that he would have said no. He has a difficult time saying no to Nishinoya. Probably because he’s terrifying and Asahi's easily scared.
“You’re not even going to ask him what you’re agreeing to?” Daichi chimes in, “Are you sure that’s wise?”
“Quiet, Daichi,” Suga says, “I wanna hear the rest of this conversation.” Suga sounds like he wishes he had popcorn, but Asahi's not sure why.
Instead of giving any information about what Asahi’s just signed up for, Nishinoya grins and says, “Great! I’ll see you after practice this afternoon!” and turns to head out of the clubroom.
“That was slightly disappointing,” Suga says.
Daichi rolls his eyes. “I’m sure Asahi will tell you all about it tomorrow. Won’t you, Asahi?”
“Uh, maybe?” Asahi says. “That is— I mean— I don’t know why I wouldn’t.”
“You and Nishinoya have been rather close lately,” Suga says, tilting his head.
“He’s a good friend,” Asahi says.
“Uh huh,” Suga says.
Asahi doesn’t get a chance to ask him what he’s not saying because at that moment the class warning bell trills loud over the campus, and Asahi doesn’t want to get detention for being late.
#
“Asahi, I’m glad you’re back as our ace, but more than that, I’m glad it means you’re no longer ignoring us during lunch period,” Suga says. He pauses to chew on a mouthful of white rice and shrimp. “Seriously, Daichi is hardly a conversationalist, but at least when I have you to compare him to—”
“Hey!” Daichi says, indignant.
“Uh—” Asahi articulates.
Suga laughs, brushes his silver bangs out of the way of his eyes. It makes sense, Asahi thinks, that Daichi would like Suga. And there’s no jealousy in that realization; it’s a genuine conclusion. He’s not sure why it took him so long to see that it was always going to be Daichi-and-Suga.
Asahi would be lying if he said he never felt like a third wheel around his two best friends, but he supposes that’s impossible to avoid when the two of them are dating.
In hindsight, he’s glad he never told either of them about his crush on Daichi. He wouldn’t have wanted to lose them as friends only to realize the feelings had gone away on their own a few months later. He doesn’t even really remember when the feelings went away, whether they faded over time or not. He just knows that one day he realized there were no more butterflies in his stomach, and his heart didn’t burn whenever he looked at Sawamura Daichi.
Suga hits the side of his shoulder, forcing Asahi out of his thoughts.
“Ow,” Asahi says, rubbing at the spot. “What was that for?”
“We almost had to go this season without you and Nishinoya.”
Asahi presses his lips together; they could feasibly replace him, but Noya’s the best libero Asahi thinks he’s ever seen— definitely the best he’s ever played with— and to think he would have been at fault—
“That’s not all Asahi’s fault,” Daichi says. He pauses, takes a sip from his orange-and-black plastic water bottle, then tacks on, “Nishinoya’s melodramatics are only partially his fault.”
Asahi narrows his eyes at his own bento, brow furrowing. “I didn’t— I didn’t actually think he wouldn’t play because of me.”
“Well,” Suga says, “you’re back, so it doesn’t matter now.”
“Besides,” Daichi adds, “there was no way you weren’t coming back.”
Asahi hums, but doesn’t disagree.
#
Nishinoya stands with his hands in the pockets of his black uniform pants. He runs a hand through his hair as Asahi approaches and then he says, tone serious, “Thank you for meeting me.”
“So,” Asahi says, stopping just at the edge of the shadow of the gym building. “What exactly is this bet you made with Tanaka?”
Nishinoya presses his lips together, looks away from Asahi, then looks back up. A coy smile plays at his lips. “He bet he could get a girl to agree to go out with him before I could.”
Asahi’s heart clenches involuntarily. The feeling’s familiar but it's not… it’s not something he’s felt before around Nishinoya. He catches his breath, belatedly, and tells himself that it’s nothing. Carefully, he says, “And you asked me to help you? Nishinoya, I—”
“Yeah,” Noya interrupts. “See, you’re big and scary and people are intimidated by your looks, so I was thinking if you just sort of… walked over and acted like yourself, then I could come over and be like the savior?”
Asahi’s heart sinks. It’s nothing, it’s nothing, it’s nothing. He blinks and asks, “You want me to intimidate a girl for you?”
Noya grins. “I knew you’d help me out!”
Asahi coughs awkwardly. If he focuses on what Noya’s asking of him, maybe he’ll be able to ignore the unpleasant feelings in his chest and stomach. “So who—”
Asahi doesn’t finish the question because Noya walks past him. Asahi follows him back around the side of the gym where turns his head to smile wide at Asahi who offers a weak smile in return. Even though he kind of wants to lie down, die, and decay right on the path back to the main school, Nishinoya's smile does help him feel a little better.
Noya points. “There she is! She’s about to leave. Quick, go creep up behind her or something.”
Asahi recognizes the girl Noya points to. She’s heading towards the school gates, and she’s in his own class. It’s Hanae Sayoko; she sits next to him every day. How had she and Nishinoya even met? Asahi remembers with a sinking feeling that it was probably one of the many times he'd come to the classroom looking for Asahi. That doesn’t make sense; there’s no reason for that thought to correlate with his dropping heart and his clenching stomach. (Asahi’s always been good at math, and he reminds himself somewhat futilely that correlation does not equal causation.)
“I feel a little bad,” Asahi says, “trying to make her feel uncomfortable.”
Noya pouts. “Don’t try to make her feel uncomfortable. Everyone thinks you’re some twenty-five-year-old criminal, just be yourself!”
So even Nishinoya thinks Asahi looks like a criminal. Asahi’s spite— towards himself or Noya, he’s not sure— carries him across the campus’ yard to Hanae. When he reaches her, he says, “Hi.” And he’s sure that his voice sounds as awkward as he feels, but he can only hope (for Noya’s sake) that she thinks he sounds intimidating.
She jumps slightly, then looks up at him, and— inexplicably— her face breaks into a wide grin. “Azumane-san! Sorry, I didn’t hear you come up behind me.”
Well, that wasn’t the reaction Asahi expected nor the one Noya wanted. Asahi glances to where Noya stands, leaning his shoulder against the side of the main school building. He attempts to communicate through his eyes that this isn’t what he expected, but he’s not sure that he manages to convey it before Hanae asks, “Did you need something?”
“I— uh—” He struggles to come up with an excuse.
“While you’re here,” she says, saving him the trouble, “This is going to sound a bit forward, probably, but I’ve been meaning to ask if you’re willing to help me out with calculus? I studied so hard for the last test and still failed, and I sort of sneaked a look at your score and saw you did a lot better.”
Asahi blinks. “Oh,” he says. “Uh, yeah, I guess I—”
“Great,” She says, grinning again. “It’s a date!”
“Uh—”
“Asahi-san,” he hears, and then there’s a tight grip around his wrist and Noya pulls on his arm. He doesn’t bother to say anything to Hanae before dragging Asahi away. “You’re the worst wingman ever! You weren’t supposed to get a date with her.”
“It’s not really a date,” Asahi says, frowning, eyebrows pulling together.
Nishinoya glares at him. “Do you like her?” he asks.
Asahi’s confused, and his heart slamming against his ribs again doesn’t help. Nishinoya’s angry at him. He feels a bit overwhelmed, and he stumbles over the words. “No, I— Nishin— Uh—”
“Because from the sounds of it she likes you.”
“I don’t—” Asahi blinks. He’s not quite sure what to say besides, “I don’t think so.”
Nishinoya stares at him, eyes narrowed in a glare for a moment longer before his gaze softens. Asahi’s not sure what causes the change in demeanor, but he’s not going to question it too much. “It’s okay,” Noya says. “I’m not mad.”
After a moment of silence between them, after Asahi catches his breath and his heart no longer betrays him, he says, “I thought you liked Kiyoko.”
“Ryuu and I agreed she was off limits,” Noya says.
“So, why—”
“She always smiles at me when I come looking for you,” Nishinoya says. “I don’t know. Most girls kind of just pretend not to see me. Or they give me dirty looks when I’m being too loud or something.”
This, quite possibly, is the first time Asahi has ever heard Nishinoya say something that makes him sound insecure. Noya’s always been so bold, so sure of himself. Asahi frowns, and his eyes meet Noya’s. There’s that fluttering in his chest again. His mind betrays him, and he wonders what it would be like to lean down and kiss Noya on the mouth.
The thought surprises him; it’s like getting cold water thrown on him to wake him up.
Oh, no. Not this. He cannot have a crush on one of his closest friends. Not again.
#
The next afternoon’s practice goes about as well as it could, given Asahi’s recent realization. He tries to simultaneously watch and not watch Nishinoya, not wanting to give himself away while trying to figure out whether yesterday was just a fluke. He thinks he’d have noticed if he had a crush on Nishinoya before just yesterday— unless these feelings are entirely and completely new.
“Asahi,” Daichi calls, “pay attention.”
Asahi blinks and shifts his gaze to where Daichi stands across the net. He shakes his head, but there’s the ghost of a smile on his lips. Asahi’s stomach doesn’t flip at the sight like it used to. He glances back to Nishinoya who’s jumping up and down with Hinata cheering about something that Asahi missed. Something inside his chest swoops.
“Asahi,” Daichi says. “Do you need the afternoon off? Because I can ask Coach—”
“What?” Asahi says. “No. I don’t need the afternoon off. Let’s just— let’s do the drill.”
Of course, that’s not the end of it. Daichi and Suga corner him in the clubroom after practice, arms crossed over their chests, heads tilted to the side like concerned parents. Asahi, after pulling his shirt over his head, blinks at them.
“Asahi,” Suga says. “Is everything okay?”
Asahi thinks he should be asking them that question. “I don’t know,” he says, eyebrows pulling together. “Is it?”
“You were a little distracted during practice,” Daichi says.
“Could it have anything to do with helping Noya yesterday? You never did tell us about that,” Suga adds.
Asahi shrugs. “He wanted help asking a girl out.”
Daichi blinks and furrows his brow while Suga bursts into laughter. Asahi watches Suga until his laughter dies down and he wipes at his eyes, catching his breath. “He wanted help asking a girl out. So he went to you?”
Asahi groans. “He wanted—” He shrugs. “Nevermind, okay?”
“No, no,” Suga says, “I’m sorry for laughing it’s just— Well, what happened?”
“He said that because girls think I look scary that they would be glad if he intervened when I tried to talk them.”
Suga’s eyes widen. Daichi’s jaw literally drops. The captain stutters before he manages to say, “You’re joking, right? That’s not— What?”
Asahi sighs. “It’s not a big deal. It didn’t work anyway, he wanted me to talk to Hanae Sayoko who’s in my class and she ended up asking me to help her study for calculus which he seemed to think meant she and I had a date—”
“Well, is it a date?” Suga asks.
Asahi shakes his head. “No. I mean she said It’s a date, but I think she was joking.”
Daichi and Suga exchange a look.
“What?” Asahi asks.
“She said It’s a date,” Daichi says.
Before Asahi protests and says that doesn’t make it a date, he presses his lips together and replays the conversation with Hanae over in his head. At the time he had been a bit distracted trying to not think about Nishinoya wanting to ask her on a date, so it’s possible he missed something.
“So,” Daichi says, “let me get this straight. Noya came to you to ask you to be his wingman, and you ended up getting a date with the girl he was—” he pauses, voice changing slightly when he says, “— interested in.”
Asahi shrugs. “I guess,” he says.
“What did he say to you after?” Suga asks.
“He asked if I liked her,” Asahi says.
Suga opens his mouth to say something, but a clear and loud “Asahi-san?” sounds throughout the locker room.
Asahi freezes in place, feeling like a deer in headlights, and then Suga calls back, completely unhelpfully, “He’s over here!”
At that Daichi and Suga take their leave, giving Asahi no time to prepare for whatever’s about to happen. And the insistent thrum of his heart and tightening of his lungs convinces him that something must be on the brink. His friends disappear through the door of the clubroom, passing Nishinoya on the way out.
“We were just leaving,” Suga says in what Asahi believes is a rather suggestive tone.
“Oh! Bye,” Noya says in response. “Asahi-san,” he says, “when’s your date?”
“It’s not a date,” Asahi says, even though he’s not quite sure whether that statement is entirely true after the conversation he just had.
It can’t be a date, though. Right? He and Hanae would have to be on the same page and both acknowledge it as a date to make it a date. And they’re not on the same page. Asahi doesn’t even like girls. Then again, the universe does seem to have a sick sense of humor considering his recent streak of bad luck in forming crushes on close friends.
Noya ignores his protests, says, “It’s not tonight, is it? Because there’s this brand new action movie out that I was supposed to see with Tanaka and now he has a date with some girl from class five— who isn’t anywhere near as pretty as Kiyoko, if you were wondering.”
Asahi wasn’t. “I’m sure she’s nice,” he says with a shrug.
Nishinoya stomps his foot indignantly, and Asahi thinks only Noya could make such a cartoonish move with such a serious look on his face. “Nice is what people say when they can’t say hot.”
“No,” Asahi says. His eyebrows draw together; a piece of hair falls in front of his face. “Nice is what you say when you don’t think someone is hot.”
He pulls at the band holding his hair back, letting it fall over his shoulders before he pulls it up again securing the band tighter than before. He regrets not having a mirror, there’s probably a weird bump in his hair at the top of his head where his cowlick is.
He looks back at Nishinoya to find his cheeks have turned slightly pink. Asahi thinks his accusation is just true and nothing for Noya to be embarrassed by. Asahi doesn’t think he’s ever seen Noya embarrassed, and he’s about to apologize, but then Noya all but squeaks out, “So are you coming?”
“Where?” Asahi asks.
“To the movie, you big dummy,” Noya replies, sounding impatient.
Asahi blinks. “Oh, uh— Okay? When exactly were you planning on going?”
Noya frowns, pulls his lips slightly to one side in a pout. Then he says, “I have to go home for dinner.” His brown brighten and he grins as he says, “I’ll meet you after that?”
“Uh, yeah,” Asahi says. “That— that works for me.”
“Okay!” Nishinoya says, grinning. “I’ll text you!”
#
It’s nine-thirty when Nishinoya and Asahi finally meet up again. They agreed to meet at the theater rather than heading there together. It’s not until Asahi gets there and Nishinoya says, “I already bought the tickets!” that Asahi starts panicking.
He reaches into his pocket, fingers fumbling with his wallet. He pulls out the yen to cover the cost of the ticket and looks up to see Noya’s brow creased and his lips pulled into a frown.
“Is something wrong?” Asahi asks.
“No,” Noya says, turning on his heel and heading towards the theater.
Asahi’s left clutching the cash in one hand and struggling to simultaneously catch up to Noya and make sure nothing falls out of his wallet as he shoves it back into his front pocket. “Wait—” Asahi says, catching up at last and holding the yen out for Noya to take.
Noya looks at it disdainfully, but gingerly, reluctantly, he takes it. Muffled sounds of music and voices from the screens in the theaters they pass drift into the hallway, and Asahi’s hyper-conscious of Nishinoya’s silence. He's not talking incessantly about how cool this movie is supposed to be, and Asahi knows that means something's wrong.
“Are you mad at me?” Asahi asks, fingers of his opposite hands twining and untwining. “I don’t— Is it because of Hanae-san? Because I don’t think that’s actually a date.”
“I’m not mad at you,” Noya says without looking at him.
“But—”
“I said I’m not mad, Asahi-san.”
Asahi lets out a heavy exhale. “You seem mad,” he says, and then he bites his lip. Nishinoya will probably get impatient with him saying it over and over, but Noya’s acting like something’s bothering him. And that something is obviously the six-foot-one wing spiker walking next to him.
They get to the doors of the theater number printed on their tickets and Noya stops short. Asahi stops a step ahead of him, not expecting the halt.
“It’s really not a date with a Hanae-san?” Noya asks.
“It’s really not,” Asahi says, furrowing his eyebrows.
“And you really don’t like her?”
Asahi rubs at the back of his neck, knowing he has to choose his words carefully so he doesn’t accidentally let on the truth. “I really don’t,” Asahi says. “I’m— I don’t even—”
Noya blinks, clearly waiting for Asahi to finish his thought.
Instead, Asahi shakes his head and says. “Just believe me, Nishinoya, I really don’t like her. Not the way you’re talking about anyway.”
That seems to be a good enough answer. Nishinoya nods once and says, “Okay. I believe you.” Then he launches into talking about how many explosions this movie supposedly has as they enter the theater. In any other situation, Asahi would persistently tell him to be quiet in the theater, but he’s too relieved that things are back to normal to care whether they’re drawing dirty looks from the other people as the previews come on.
The theater’s mostly empty except for a few other teenagers, groups of guys or the rarer couple—Asahi knows they’re couples because they’re holding hands or the girl rests her head on the guy’s shoulder— scattered around.
Nishinoya whispers excitedly at Asahi about the movie before this one (a movie Asahi hadn’t seen), trying to give Asahi context for what’s happening. But by trying to listen to Nishinoya, Asahi ends missing most of the important information on the screen so he’s lost while trying to follow the plot of this movie anyway.
An explosion fills the screen with yellow, orange, and red and Nishinoya stands up. “Wow! Cool!”
“Noya,” Asahi says, trying and failing to hold back a grin, pulling at the sleeve of Nishinoya’s shirt, “sit down. There’s people sitting behind us.”
“Oh, right,” Nishinoya says. He turns around, waves his arms above him and says, “Sorry everyone!” before sitting back down.
Asahi laughs lightly, despite himself.
“What’s so funny?” Nishinoya asks in a loud whisper.
“Nothing,” Asahi says, and then leaning in slightly, “just you.”
Nishinoya blinks up at him, and Asahi has the stupid desire to kiss him. He sits up straight pulling his arm off the rest between them and into his own lap. He’s too aware of Noya sitting next to him, so he can’t focus on the movie. He doesn’t even try to focus on the movie; his thoughts have shifted solely to remembering that Nishinoya is his friend. Nishinoya is his friend, and this is just a crush. A crush that will pass. It’s not like he hasn’t had a crush before. It’s not like he hasn’t had a crush on one of his best friends before. This stupid crush will pass just like his crush on Daichi did, probably without his even noticing it’s gone.
In his peripheral vision, he notices Noya fidget, settle closer to the side of the seat away from Asahi. God, Asahi is an idiot. He’s really gone and messed stuff up now. Nishinoya probably knows exactly what Asahi was thinking and got freaked out at the idea of Asahi kissing him. He’s probably sitting there disgusted.
If he plays it off like it was nothing, maybe he can save this. Maybe he can apologize and convince Noya that what just happened was just a fluke. All he has to do is pretend that the feelings don’t exist. Eventually, they’ll go away. If he does something stupid like confess or— God forbid, kiss Nishinoya— their friendship will never recover. That’s not something he’s willing to let happen.
#
At lunch, Asahi, Daichi, and Suga end up outside. A breeze blows leaves around the school grounds, and they rustle and scrape lightly against the cement sidewalks. The sun’s bright, but the early spring weather sits at a cool, comfortable temperature.
Asahi sits across from his two friends.
“So,” Suga says, “How’d your date with Noya go?”
Asahi’s cheeks heat up to the temperature of the surface of the sun, and he says, “What are you talking about?”
Suga raises an eyebrow but before he says anything else, Daichi interrupts, “Suga, stop teasing Asahi. I’m sure he spent all of last night overanalyzing everything and getting himself all worked up.”
Daichi’s right. After he parted ways with Nishinoya last night, Asahi walked home entirely on autopilot replaying the entire evening and trying to decipher every single facial expression that Nishinoya made the entire time.
The conclusion that Asahi had come to was that Noya was mad at him for agreeing to go on a “date” with Hanae-san, but didn’t want to admit it. His whole demeanor had changed after Asahi confirmed that he didn’t like her. Obviously, Noya was interested in her himself— hence wanting to ask her on a date the other day— and Asahi’s admission that he wasn’t interested in her had smoothed that over pretty quickly.
“So you going to the movies with Nishinoya, just the two of you, wasn’t a date?” Suga asks.
“How did you—”
“Tanaka,” Daichi says.
“It wasn’t a date,” Asahi says, furrowing his brow. He bites his bottom lip, replays snapshots of the previous night in his mind. He’d know if it was a date. “Nishinoya said Tanaka was busy and couldn’t go with him.”
“And it didn’t cross your mind,” Suga says, “that Nishinoya might have just said that as an excuse to get you alone?”
Asahi’s not quite aware of his facial expression, but it makes Suga laugh and Daichi sigh.
“I don’t— He didn’t— Why would he do that?”
“Because,” Suga says, “maybe he just has a bit of a crush on Karasuno’s ace?”
“Stop meddling,” Daichi says, “whatever’s going on with Asahi and Noya is something Asahi can figure out himself.” He pauses, frowns, then says. “Or maybe not.”
“Did Nishinoya act like it was a date?” Suga asks
“Act like it was a date?” Asahi repeats, surprised.
“Did he pay for you? Did he try to hold your hand in the theater?”
“He paid but only because he got there first, and I gave him the money back.”
Suga and Daichi exchange a look, and it’s something Asahi’s used to, the Suga-and-Daichi routine. He has no patience for their cryptic non-verbal communications right now though.
“Forget that,” Daichi says, “did you want it to be a date?”
Asahi thinks Yes but he doesn’t say it aloud. He pulls at the ends of his hair coming loose from where he’s tied it into a bun. He says, “I don’t know.”
“But you like him,” Daichi says.
Asahi doesn’t think it sounds like a question, and he’s not sure whether Daichi and Suga have figured that much out on their own (but Asahi’s just figured it out himself this week, how could his friends already know?) After hesitating, he nods.
“So tell him that,” Suga says.
Asahi shifts uncomfortably. “I can’t just tell him,” he says. He thinks again of his old feelings for Daichi. Of how he found out that Suga and Daichi were dating, and maybe they’d been dating for a while before that. If he had done something reckless like admit his feelings he’d have lost both of them as friends.
“Sure you can,” Suga says.
“It’s pretty obvious that he likes Hanae-san or Kiyoko. And I’m—” Well he’s a guy for one. And a huge mess of anxiety for another. He looks like a criminal, even though he’s a huge wimp. He’s a lot of things; all of which point to Nishinoya absolutely not being interested. Risking their entire friendship just to get his feelings off his chest feels selfish at best.
“Uh huh,” Suga says not sounding entirely convinced.
“Asahi doesn’t have to do anything he’s not comfortable with,” Daichi says. He points his chopsticks at Asahi. “Unless it’ll get us to nationals.”
“Having a happy ace and libero could get us to nationals,” Suga says.
“How did you guys even know I liked him?” Asahi asks. “It’s only just— it’s new.”
Suga shrugs. “Maybe it’s not as new as you think.”
Chewing on a mouthful of rice, Asahi lets that thought sink in. If he thinks back, maybe the feelings haven’t just been there for a couple days. He thinks about the way his heart races around Noya, warming his chest. He thinks about glancing at him at practice, always catching his eye even when they’re not working together.
Maybe these feelings have been latent for a while. And maybe the suggestion of Noya asking someone out— for real, not how he and Tanaka pester Kiyoko— brought them to the surface for the first time. Asahi’s not quite sure what to make of that revelation, besides to take it as more proof that he truly is pathetic and as evidence that he really needs to figure out how to stop developing crushes on his friends.
Beside him, Suga pokes him in the arm to pull him out of his thoughts. “If you don’t tell him,” Suga says, “he might end up with someone else.”
Suga’s right of course. That’s exactly what happened when Asahi didn’t tell Daichi his feelings. But Asahi wouldn’t have ended up with Daichi anyway, not in a million years.
“Think of it this way,” Daichi says, “if you do tell him, he just might tell you he feels the same.”
#
Maybe it was Daichi’s words during lunch, but Asahi decides that he’s going to tell Nishinoya. A sense of anticipation— a nervous excitement, on the brink of optimism, not quite a sense of doom— follows him throughout the rest of the school day.
It’s after practice, in the clubroom, and Asahi doesn’t see Noya, keeps scanning door to see if he’ll come in.
“Asahi,” Tanaka says, voice oddly neutral, lacking its usual candor. He steps through the door and throws his bag down.
“Hi, Tanaka,” Asahi says, frowning when Noya doesn’t step inside after his friend.
“Not too happy to see me?”
“It’s not that,” Asahi says. “I— Have you seen Noya?”
“Yeah, I just said bye to him. Said he was heading home early.” Tanaka crosses his arms over his chest, tilts his head, narrows his eyes.
If Asahi had the time, he’d stop and ask whether Tanaka is mad at him, but he obviously is. That isn’t something Asahi can worry about right now. He has to catch up to Noya before he completely loses the nerve to tell him everything. If he doesn’t do it today, Asahi thinks he’ll never get the words out.
He sprints from the clubroom to the edge of the school grounds where he finds Noya talking to another second year, a guy from his own class. Asahi recognizes him as a member of the baseball club.
Asahi calls out, “Nishinoya!”
And Noya turns, sees him, and then says something Asahi can't hear. The baseball club guy keeps walking. Nishinoya waits for Asahi to catch up to him. When he does, he has to lean over, hands on knees, panting as he catches his breath. He’s not used to sprinting so far so fast.
“Hi, Asahi-san,” Nishinoya says.
His voice is cold, and Asahi’s not quite sure what to make of that except that maybe he really was too stupid to realize what last night was supposed to be. Maybe Daichi and Suga were right. And maybe that’s why Tanaka was acting so strange in the clubroom. Suddenly telling Noya the truth doesn’t seem so terrifying.
Still, his heart beats wildly in his chest when he asks, “Can we talk?”
Nishinoya shifts his weight between his feet, facial expression pulling. He looks nervous almost. In any other situation, Asahi might laugh at the thought. (Nishinoya? Nervous? Never.) At length, Noya says, “Yeah. I guess.”
Asahi glances around at the students leaving clubs to head home for the evening. “Somewhere where there’s less—”
“We can walk and talk,” Noya suggests, and that seems like a good enough idea, and almost more than he's even willing to give Asahi right now, so Asahi nods.
They head away from the school, in the direction that Noya usually takes home— this way is longer to Asahi’s house, but it’s fine— and after Asahi quells his nerves, and before they can start taking over his decisions again he says, “Last night. That was— that was supposed to be a date?”
Noya doesn’t look at Asahi. He bites at his bottom lip and looks straight ahead as they walk, eyebrows harsh. As always he looks determined. He’s silent for so long that Asahi almost wonders whether he asked the question out loud.
Then Noya shrugs and says, “I don’t know. No?”
“No?” Asahi says, “It wasn’t— I mean….” He tugs nervously at the hems of his uniform shirt sleeves. “That doesn’t matter,” he says aloud, more to himself than to Noya.
But Noya blinks up at him in surprise. “What are you saying, Asahi-san?”
“I think I’ve been a little too in my head about all this,” Asahi says.
Noya’s eyes flash a playful expression and he grins as he says, “You’re always too in your head about everything, Asahi-san. Well, except spiking volleyballs.”
“I’ve just um—” Asahi stops, shakes his head. “Do you remember after we lost the tournament and you found me in the locker room by myself?”
“When you were crying?” Nishinoya asks.
Asahi nods, and right now bringing up such an embarrassing memory doesn’t seem too difficult. Not faced with what he’s about to do. Not compared to the thought of admitting his feelings, of baring his heart on this sidewalk as the tops of the buildings of Karasuno disappear behind the trees and the hills behind them.
“I wasn’t crying because we lost,” Asahi says. “I never told you. I, uh— I mean I was upset that we lost, but it was my fault and that—”
“It wasn’t your fault, Asahi-san,” Nishinoya says without hesitation.
Asahi’s heart swells at that, and it might burst here even before he admits his feelings. Still, Nishinoya’s wrong. “It was my fault,” Asahi corrects. “I, uh— I hadn’t played my best during that final match. When we won the game before I saw—” He pauses, and it all seems so silly now. Inconsequential. “— I saw Suga kiss Daichi when he didn’t think anyone was looking, and well, back then I sort of—” Asahi presses his lips together, lets out a light breath through his nose. “I had feelings for Daichi.”
Asahi’s going to continue talking, but Nishinoya’s no longer next to him. Asahi spins, sees Nishinoya stopped in his tracks. He takes a few steps towards the other, and Nishinoya says, “Oh.” He doesn’t look at Asahi. He stares at the cement of the sidewalk, eyes wide. “That— That makes sense,” he says, “You and Daichi are really close.”
“I guess,” Asahi says, lacing his eyebrows together. “I never told him, because—”
“I have to go,” Nishinoya interrupts. “I— I’ll see you around, Asahi-san.”
Nishinoya brushes past Asahi, walking full speed, and Asahi turns around to follow him, only to see that Noya’s broken into a run. “Nishinoya!” he calls after him, “Hang on!”
He doesn’t stop, and Asahi isn’t sure what to do. If he chases after him someone will probably assume he’s a criminal trying to mug Noya and call the cops, and he didn't plan on confessing his feelings as flashing blue lights speed around the corner to arrest him. He’s failed spectacularly at this, and not in the way he expected.
In the end, Asahi exhales and goes home.
#
“So, wait a minute,” Daichi says, “Nishinoya ran away from you?”
Asahi exhales, exasperated. He’s just relayed the story of what happened the previous afternoon to Daichi. The morning sunlight filters through the blinds in the windows of the otherwise dark clubroom. No one besides he and Daichi are here at the moment, despite the fact that Nishinoya is usually the first one here. Asahi was hoping—
Well, that doesn’t matter now.
“You told him that you liked him? And then he ran away?”
“I didn’t even get that far,” Asahi admits. “I was— well I was sort of rambling and I— I may have mentioned the disastrous way my last crush ended.”
Daichi blinks. “What exactly did you say?”
Asahi shifts uncomfortably. He isn’t exactly able to tell Daichi that without admitting what he couldn’t a year ago.
“Asahi,” Daichi says, reading the look on his face.
For so long he managed to keep his feelings about Daichi a secret, and once they disappeared on their own— Well, he never expected to have to admit them post-mortem. “I told him that when we lost last year, and he found me in the locker room afterward, it wasn’t losing the game that I was upset about.”
“That’s it?” Daichi asks.
Asashi shakes his head, cuts his gaze to the windows. “I told him I was upset because I saw Suga kiss you.”
“You—”
“I’m over that now, obviously,” Asahi says, before Daichi can say something that makes him want to crumple like a piece of paper ripped from a notebook. He looks back to Daichi whose eyes are still wide, head tilted slightly toward Asahi as he tries to understand. “Noya left before I could even finish that thought, so— Well, he thinks I like you. He thinks I still like you.”
Daichi chews the inside of his cheek, shifts his weight slightly. He has questions; Asahi can tell from the look in his eyes. He opens his mouth, closes it again, and then opens it to say, “Well, then you obviously need to tell him that you don’t.” He pauses, and then adds, “Because you don’t…”
“I don’t,” Asahi confirms.
Daichi nods, expression shifting back to his captainly one. “Okay,” Daichi says, “then we need to find Nishinoya.”
#
Over the next days, Asahi tries to tell Noya. But it’s difficult to talk to Nishinoya when Nishinoya won’t even look at him during morning or afternoon practice. And outside of practice, he’s constantly beside Tanaka; Tanaka, who gives Asahi looks so threatening he may be moments away from growling like a guard dog. If Nishinoya’s pretending Asahi doesn’t exist weren’t enough to make him back off, Tanaka’s presence is.
After practice, three days after Asahi’s terrible attempt at confessing, they entire team's in the clubroom, gathering their belongings before leaving for the day. Daichi and Suga talk about something that Asahi’s not really paying attention to. (Suga hasn’t let on knowing about Asahi’s long-dead crush on Daichi, which means he doesn’t know, and if he didn’t know as soon as that conversation with Daichi happened, it means Daichi won’t tell him at all, probably.)
“Whoaaaa,” Hinata’s voice sounds through the clubroom. “What’s that?”
“It’s an envelope,” Nishinoya answers, voice cutting through the clubroom, and suddenly it's quiet except for the sounds of Hinata’s sneakers hitting against the ground as he jumps up and down. Asahi barely registers it over the loud beating of his heart against his ribcage.
“A pink envelope,” Hinata says. “Ohhh Noya-san! You know what that means, right?”
“Of course I know what it means,” Noya snaps.
Hinata’s sneakers stop squeaking the floor. “You don’t seem excited.”
Asahi refuses to turn around and watch the commotion. He knows Daichi and Suga are watching him as everyone else watches Noya. The sound of the envelope ripping and then rustling as Noya unfolds the piece of paper inside fills the otherwise silent clubroom.
“It’s not signed!” Hinata complains. Then he asks, “All it says is where to meet her today. Do you think she’s pretty Nishinoya-san? Are you gonna go meet her?”
“Why do you think it’s a ‘she’?” Kageyama interrupts, “Idiot. It wasn’t signed.”
Someone— likely Tsukishima— lets out a derisive snort.
“It would,” Suga says, unhelpfully, looking straight at Asahi as he speaks up, “have to be someone who knows which locker Nishinoya uses in here.” He grins, knowing exactly what he’s done.
Asahi, for his part, straightens up, finally opens up his own locker and pretends not to hear the conversation happening behind him.
“That’s a good point, Suga,” Hinata says, stroking his chin.
“It doesn’t matter,” Nishinoya says, “I like someone else already.”
That statement encourages a whole new round of questions and excited chatter from Hinata. Asahi shoves the books he needs into his bag, closes his locker and rushes out of the clubroom, slinging his backpack over his shoulder on the way out.
#
The street lamps turn on as the sun begins its descent toward the horizon. Asahi ties his hair back, secures it, pulls the hair-tie out, runs his fingers through his hair, pulls it back again, and repeats the process.
This pattern plays out until he checks the time on his phone sitting next to him on the bench, sees that it’s nearly six o’clock, and his heart nearly breaks out of him, through his throat and into his mouth. He forgets to finish tying his hair back, and it hangs limp, touching his shoulders. There’s probably a crease in the back from having been tied up all day.
When he does remember, he doesn’t have the time to finish tying it up for a final time before he hears, “Asahi-san?” He looks up, and Noya’s staring at him, eyes narrowed in determination or confusion or hurt or a mixture of the three. “What are you doing here?”
“Do you want to sit down?” Asahi asks. He forces his voice to remain calm even though a small part of him wants to throw up, now that this conversation is happening. This time it really is happening. Asahi’s determined to make sure he gets out the words before he says something stupid again and Noya’s left thinking Asahi likes someone else again.
Noya shakes his head. “I’m supposed to meet someone here.”
Asahi stands up. “I know.”
Noya blinks, glances away from Asahi. His brow furrows as he says, “I mean— the letter—”
“I know,” Asahi says again. He pauses. “I wrote it.”
“The envelope was pink,” Nishinoya says. He frowns. “You’re only supposed to give someone a pink envelope when you like them, Asahi-san.”
Asahi only has one thing he can say to that. The words leave his mouth without hesitation, without tripping over his tongue or his lips. “I like you.” It’s only after the words escape him, that Asahi’s nerves betray him; but the words are already out and even as the nervous hum against his eardrums wants him to run, there's no taking them back.
“As a friend,” Noya says.
Or maybe it’s a question. Asahi barely understands the words, simple as they are, behind the rush of nausea and adrenaline. “No, Nishinoya,” he says, “I like you.”
“What about Daichi?”
Asahi pushes a breath through his nose and shakes his head. “I haven’t liked Daichi that way in almost a year, Noya. I shouldn’t— I shouldn’t have even brought that up. I was just— I was trying to tell you I didn’t want to make the same mistake twice.” He pauses. And he’s not quite sure what makes him feel the need to do it, but he says, “When we went to see that movie, and we were sitting in the theater, there was a point where I almost kissed you.”
Nishinoya says, “And then you pulled away and didn’t say anything to me for the rest of the night.”
“I didn’t want to freak you out,” Asahi says.
Noya’s eyes widen and he blinks. Then he says, “You didn’t want to freak me out? Asahi-san! I almost kissed you—”
“You were going to kiss me?”
“— and then you just— you ignored me! I thought maybe you hated me or something.”
“Well, I don’t hate you,” Asahi says. And then he says again, “I like you,” because he’s already said it and the world didn’t implode the first time, and because Nishinoya’s all but said it back.
“I like you too,” Nishinoya says.
They stand, staring at each other for a moment. Asahi’s not quite sure what to do after this; he hadn’t planned on getting past telling Noya he liked him. The world didn’t implode, though. And now—
“Asahi-san,” Noya says, hands on his hips, chin upward as he talks. “You’re going to have to bend down.”
Asahi blinks, and before he has the time to react, Noya’s hands are on his cheeks, pulling him down by his face. He leans forward slightly, lifting onto his toes, and he kisses Asahi full on the lips. Asahi, stunned, doesn’t realize what’s happening until Nishinoya starts to pull away. Asahi leans down further, lips still connected to Noya’s as he pulls back.
When they part, Nishinoya says, voice teasing, “You like me.”
Asahi splutters. “You like me.”
“Yup,” Nishinoya says. He grabs Asahi’s hand, intertwines their fingers. “So when can I tell Tanaka we’re dating?”
“We’re dating?” Asahi asks.
Noya frowns, but his grip on Asahi’s fingers tightens. “Unless you don’t want to.”
“No,” Asahi says, lips turning upward slightly as he squeezes Noya’s hand back. “I want to.”