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The Bottomless Pit. It wasn't the kindest name, especially for a girl, but no one could deny it wasn't accurate. Yukie yawned as the drink can she had paid for rolled down the vending machine and into the deposit. She cracked it open and chugged it down in one go, the peach flavor of the soda dancing on her taste buds.
"Hey, hey, hey, Yukippe!"
Yukie laughed as Bokuto slung one arm over her shoulder, pulling her into a strange side-hug and making her almost spit out her soda. "Hello to you, too, on this fine, fine morning, Bokuto. Now let's get this over and done with—what do you want me to find out about Akaashi for you now?"
Bokuto's ears flushed pink as he whispered, "If he's ever been to that Italian restaurant that opened up two blocks from here. I know you've definitely been there. You ever see him there before?"
She didn't even know whether to be offended or amused by Bokuto's assumption. Mostly because it was correct. After all, she was The Bottomless Pit, someone who could be counted on to get the latest details about every restaurant within a ten mile radius. "Can't say I have, but the food there is delish. Are you going to take him there when you finally ask him out?"
If possible, Bokuto went even redder than he normally did when she ribbed him about Akaashi. "Yukippe!"
"What? I'm being totally serious here. The whole team has a betting pool, and I want to win. I'll get eight-hundred yen from both Konoha and Sarukui, plus an extra five-hundred yen from each of first years if you confess by next week and take him out to a foreign restaurant for your first date."
As Bokuto whined (and subsequently asked her for her math homework, to which she casually threatened violence, having not forgotten about the time her notebook ended up in the school fountain), they passed by some classmates on their way to homeroom.
"Hey! It's Bokuto-san and The Bottomless Pit!"
"I've heard that she holds the school record for most sushi eaten in under an hour."
"She's pretty; it's too bad she eats like a man."
Glaring and whipping around at the last comment, Yukie cut in scathingly, looking the offender's skinny figure up and down, "You have literally no business talking about eating like a man, you frickin' grass stalk."
Embarrassed, the boy scuttled away, his friends laughing and booing at him for "getting roasted by The Bottomless Pit".
"Ignore them, Yukippe!" Bokuto encouraged her, and Yukie smiled a little, knowing that Bokuto would have had no problem in defending her honor if she hadn't stuck up for herself first. "Your eating skills are awesome!"
"Mou, I wouldn't call it a skill, Bokuto."
While she laughed along with him, inwardly, she was a little disheartened. No guy would ever be attracted to her thanks to her monstrous appetite—girls weren't supposed to be eating their weight worth of food. Tiny salads and diet sodas were popular among the female population in her school—and while Yukie was not adverse to those things, she also dabbled a lot in high-calorie foods like burgers, fries, and ramen.
Oh well, she coached herself, This is just high school. I have a boy's volleyball team to manage, friends to hang with, and grades to keep up—I don't need to date while I'm at it.
Though it would be nice. Even her friend, Suzumeda Kaori, who had sworn off boys during their first year, had her own adorable second year boyfriend. And any idiot (besides Akaashi, somehow) could tell that Bokuto was pining after his setter. Konoha had a girlfriend from a different school, and Sarukui had admitted to Yukie long ago that he had a crush on one of his classmates (though she did not know if anything happened between the two).
Shirofuku Yukie could list the two people she had ever liked: Konoha and a former Fukurodani alumni who often attended their practice matches. Nothing had ever come of her crushes, but when she had imagined herself holding hands and sharing noodles with them back then, it had filled her stomach with warm butterflies.
It was too bad, though, that the most novel thing about her to boys seemed to be her sushi-eating record.
"Look, senpai!"
"That's great, Goshiki," Shirabu intoned without looking up from deciding which cut of chicken to eat first in his bento.
"You're not even looking!"
"Really?"
"What do you mean really?!"
Huffing, Shirabu put his chopsticks down and deadpanned at his bowl-cut junior, who was fervently pointing at a page in the magazine he was holding. Honestly, he was just glad that the most annoying members of their team were absent with the flu today (see: Tendou), but would it have killed the fates for Goshiki to catch at least a little cold, too? Then again, the black-haired first year was the definition of 'musclehead'. "What?"
"Look—"
"I'm looking."
"—this fat old guy holds Japan's record for the most sushi eaten in under an hour!"
Shirabu's face scrunched up. "In what universe would I ever want to know that?"
"He's going to be eating in a new Italian restaurant at Tokyo this week—for the most spaghetti eaten in under an hour! We should go see, senpai!"
"I'm busy."
"But I didn't even tell you when."
"It doesn't matter, I'll make sure I'm busy."
"Senpai!"
"Come on, Shirabu," Yamagata, who was sitting on Goshiki's left, coaxed. "Why don't you take the kid out? You two bicker the most out of all of us—it'd be a good team bonding exercise."
"I'm not going all the way to Tokyo to watch the elderly have a stroke."
"Oh, but eating events are pretty fun." To Shirabu's surprise, it was Semi of all people who jumped in. "My dad used to take me to them all the time when we were still in Osaka. I mean, sure," he shrugged, "His heart will probably give out fifteen minutes before his stomach, but so what?"
Having two third years insistence and Goshiki's frantic nodding was enough to put Shirabu ill at ease. "Still. I don't see the point of going. Even if I were to," his mouth turned down ever so slightly, "engage in bonding activities with this hot-blooded idiot, I'd rather not throw up my lunch afterwards—"
"Shirabu." Ushijima looked up from his phone, where he was probably stalking Oikawa's social media to see what he was up to. "You should go."
"Please!" added Goshiki. "You won't regret it."
"I think I will, but fine. If everyone's so adamant on this, I'll go."
Because, unlike one Goshiki, Shirabu Kenjirou had enough respect for this upperclassmen to actually listen and take their advice (with a grain of salt). He would not admit to anyone, however, that he was also morbidly curious about how much pasta this fellow could inhale in under sixty minutes. He made sure to have the emergency number on speed dial just in case.
"It's this Saturday," Goshiki was saying. "At one o'clock!"
"Wonderful." Shirabu stabbed his chopsticks through his chicken katsu, ignoring how Semi chuckled at his misfortune (Yamagata, too, was hiding a smile, the traitor). "I can't wait."
"They call him The Bottomless Pit," said Goshiki, but Shirabu had stopped paying attention by then.
"Yukie, look what I found!" Yukie blinked when Kaori shoved her phone in her face.
"That's a really cute cat, Kaorin," Yukie complimented with a smile. "But I know your mom is allergic. Have you been poaching the felines in your neighborhood again?"
"Ack, wrong photo!" Her friend grumbled before swiping through her camera roll. "Where did it... Oh, there we go! Now look!"
"Oh?" Yukie's brows rose to her hairline as she peered at the poster Kaori had taken a photo of. It was advertising the appearance of a famous big eater in Japan at the new Italian restaurant that she had been trying to convince Bokuto to ask Akaashi to.
"This is the real Bottomless Pit!" Kaori declared with absolute certainty. She took Yukie by the hands, entwining their fingers and trapping her phone between their palms. "Look, I know you've always been insecure about your appetite—"
"I am not!"
"—so rest assured that there's someone else out there who's even worse than you."
"Ouch. You really have a way with words, Kaorin," Yukie said dryly. "Is having a big appetite really such a bad thing anyway? More space for food means I get to enjoy more flavors than the average person."
Kaori winced. "I didn't mean it that way. But regardless, we should go see."
"Alright, alright. You know I'm always interested in this kind of stuff. When is it?"
"This Saturday, at one!"
Yukie hummed. "Look's like it's a date then."
"I'm only going to say this to you once," Shirabu said to Goshiki with what he hoped was the right amount of warning in his tone. He pointed at the chart displaying all the train lines. "I know you have zero idea how to read this, so don't try to pretend. You will stay close to me at all times, and you will not wander off for sausage bars or fish sticks. Do you hear me, Lil' Bowl Cut?"
"Crystal clear!" Goshiki announced, mock-saluting him. Then his stomach growled.
"Oh, no," Shirabu said before Goshiki could even open his mouth again. "We are eating when we get there and not a moment sooner. Serves you right for skipping breakfast." He tutted as they walked through the train station with their train passes. "Don't you know it's the most important meal of the day?" And because he was feeling particularly vindictive in this very moment, he added on demurely, "It's no wonder you haven't surpassed Ushijima as the ace."
"Erk!" Goshiki flinched. "Just you watch, senpai!"
They hopped on the train, and the ride to Tokyo was just as noisy as Shirabu had expected. It was a Saturday today, and all of the cars were packed full with commuters (and, to Shirabu's horror, most of them were small children who looked ready to blow if they didn't get fed their favorite snack on time). The entire car was a ticking time bomb, and Shirabu found himself squashed between a stocky businessman and Goshiki—both of whom towered over him by a considerable amount.
And because this was Goshiki, he was determined to fill the already loud carriage with even more chatter that went through one of Shirabu's ears and out the other.
"It says here that he's sixty-four years old!"
"Awesome."
"He was born in Osaka, like Semi-senpai!"
"Good for him."
"He won an eating competition in Germany in 1998!"
"I'm ecstatic, really."
Goshiki glanced down (damn him!) at Shirabu with the audacity to look hurt. "You really are ice-cold, senpai."
"Nice," Shirabu said before pausing and smirking. "Oh, sorry, was that not another useless fact about your new idol? Sorry, sorry, my fault."
As Goshiki continued to spew out totally boring and irrelevant facts about The Bottomless Pit to anyone who would listen (the little girl sitting with her mother on the adjacent seating seemed strangely invested in whatever he was spouting, and even the businessman next to Shirabu turned his head around a few times), Shirabu let out a sigh of long-suffering. He would have lifted his wrist to check his watch, but he found that he was unable to in this ocean of people.
By the time the train arrived in Tokyo, Shirabu's temper had shortened considerably and he had a crick in his lower back. Goshiki, to his annoyance, seemed completely fine and unruffled by that absolute nightmare of a commute and even dragged his upperclassman out of the train station, claiming that it was almost one o'clock and The Bottomless Pit waited for no one.
"Slow down, idiot," Shirabu snapped when he had to pull Goshiki back from the road to prevent him from being run over. He took out his phone. "It's around the corner from here. Follow me, and don't stray."
Less people than Shirabu had anticipated showed up at the little Italian shop, which was a good thing. They went inside, and immediately spotted the film cameras around a table in the middle of the restaurant. True to Goshiki's word, The Bottomless Pit was sitting there like an overfed bulldog, sagging jowls and all. Multiple large plates of spaghetti were on standby next to the table, a man who had to be the chef fidgeting nervously as a woman powdered The Bottomless Pit's face (why, Shirabu did not know).
They were given a diner booth and asked to be lowkey while the great Pit ate his food.
"On this special occasion," their waiter said once they had sat down. "You can have free drinks with free refills." He pointed to a drink machine in one corner of the shop. "Just help yourselves, you two."
"Thanks," they chorused before opening up the menus.
"The Pit has been losing popularity," Kaori was explaining as she and Yukie sat down in a diner booth. The former girl shrugged off her jacket, while Yukie kept hers on. "It's why he's suddenly making a public appearance like this."
"Fascinating," Yukie drawled lazily, not even bothering to pick up the menu. She already knew all of the food items by heart. "I'm gonna start off with garlic bread. It goes well with lemonade."
"Well, then, it's a good thing drinks are free today. Why don't you go get some while I order?"
"Oh, please." Yukie chuckled as she stood anyway. "You're just being lazy."
"Okay, girl, you have no right to call anyone lazy."
"Touché."
Yukie finished scooping ice into two cups and filling them with lemonade before taking a sip from one of the cups. Briefly, she wondered if Kaori would forgive her for giving her the cup with (now) less liquid in it. She might not even notice. Deciding to put her plan into action, she turned around—
"Ah!"
—and splashed soda onto a stranger's shirt.
"Oh, shit," she said, looking up at him. "I'm so sorry."
"I—" She was sure he was about to say something scathing when he suddenly stiffened, his cheeks growing red. He turned away, covering his lower face. "It's fine. I should have watched where I was going."
"Oh, no, it wasn't your fault." Yukie fumbled in her jeans pocket for a packet of tissues. She always kept some on hand just in case Bokuto decided to have a meltdown. Ah... She zoned out a little when he thanked her and took the tissues from her, feeling her face heat up a little. He's really handsome... Who is this guy? Some celebrity? Well, his hair was a little funny, but that could be overlooked.
"Sorry," they blurted at the same time, grimacing. "No, I'm sorry!"
"Yukie!" Kaori called from the backdrop.
At the same time, someone shouted, "Shirabu-senpai!"
"Yukie-san?" The boy perked up, looking visibly relieved now that he had something to call her. "Let's just say it was an... unfortunate accident."
Yukie nodded, and then they both proceeded to stand dumbly, staring at one another.
"Is that your friend?" Yukie said in the end, peering over his shoulder to see a black-haired boy waving frantically to Shirabu.
Shirabu snorted, breaking out of the initial shyness for the first time. "Hardly. Goshiki's only redeeming quality is how loud his voice can get. I mean, look. He's a musclehead, overly self-conscious, and he has that bowl cut hair..."
Greatly amused, Yukie smiled. "You also have a bowl-cut, though, Shirabu-san."
Shirabu blinked. Then he coughed into his hand, averting his eyes. "I suppose I do."
Awkwardly, they continued to stand. Shirabu's shirt was sticking to his chest and torso, and it took all of Yukie's willpower and prior experience with her volleyball team to avoid ogling his abs. Then, as if he remembered the situation, he pulled a tissue out of the packet she had given him and started wiping himself down, muttering curses when the stain refused to go away completely.
Shit, she could hear her own heart pounding between her ears. Had her brain and heart suddenly swapped places or something?
She was saved—they both were—when Goshiki yelled, "He's about to start, Shirabu-senpai!"
"Ah, right!" Shirabu called over his shoulder before turning back to Yukie. "Uh—goodbye."
Then he scurried off, and Yukie hurried back to her own seat. The garlic bread had already arrived, and Kaori was wondering why their drinks were only half-full, but Yukie couldn't bring herself to care at the moment. Even when The Pit began to eat, Yukie found herself staring at the back of Shirabu's head more often than she would have liked.
"You're totally red," Kaori gasped, awed.
"I'm not," Yukie denied, sounding lame even to herself. Groaning, she hid her face behind her hands. "Geez, Kaorin..."
Oh god, the tissues even smelled like her. Shirabu would have brought it closer to his nose to get a better sniff, but that would have way too weird, especially with Goshiki sitting opposite him. So he settled for fiddling with the soda-soaked tissues with his nimble hands, trying his best to focus on how The Pit practically vacuumed up plate after plate of spaghetti.
Shit, shit, shit. What is this?! What's wrong with me? Grimacing, he sighed and massaged his temple. Listen, Kenjirou, she's a girl you just met. She spilled soda on you. That was her fault, but you're not mad at her because she's attractive and you want to ask her out—
This wasn't helping. At all.
Never in his life had he felt like this. A few girls from school had confessed to him before, but he had shot them all down without a second thought or a shred of remorse. None of the guys on the team had girlfriends, so it wasn't like he could go to any of them for advice (not that he would ever). Yukie... something in his heart had just kicked his emotional walls down, and he wanted nothing more, suddenly, to make a fool out of himself and give her his number so they could go on dates together. Just from the way she dressed, he could tell she was a local, but that didn't matter. He'd ride the train to Tokyo every weekend just to see her—
"Shirabu-senpai?" Goshiki interrupted his train of thought. "Are you watching or not?"
"Shut up."
Goshiki stared at him, shocked. He was clearly expecting more than just a simple 'shut up'. "You... You're not insulting me?"
"Why?" Shirabu looked up from the table irritably. "Do you want me to?"
"Erk! Of course not! But you're acting weird."
Pointedly ignoring him, Shirabu forced himself to observe the mess of a man that was The Pit. From his peripheral, he could see that Yukie seemed pretty immerse in the show, too, which only encouraged him to make himself seem interested.
Finally, an hour later, The Bottomless Pit roared (or burped, Shirabu couldn't tell and didn't care to differentiate) in triumph as he slammed down his final plate of spaghetti. "THAT'S RIGHT! NOBODY MESSES WITH THE BOTTOMLESS PIT! I'LL EAT UP ANYTHING, WHETHER IT BE JAPANESE OR ITALIAN!" He pointed one stubby finger at the chef, who looked faint. "I'M GONNA BE THE ONE TO SEND YOU HOME TO YOUR MAMA MIA!"
"How uncouth," Shirabu uttered, Goshiki looking inclined to agree.
"NOBODY IN THIS RESTAURANT COULD OUT-EAT ME!" It seemed The Pit had heard Shirabu's unsavory remark, and had directed his index finger to point at him. "LEAST OF ALL A TWIG LIKE YOU! I BET I WEIGH FIVE TIMES YOU DO! ARE YOU EVEN A MAN?!"
Before Shirabu could expel a cutting remark involving the heckler's health, a hippo, and his mother, Yukie suddenly stood with a glare on her face.
"Is that so? Don't go around pointing fingers like that, you damn pig. It's not about weight, or physique, or gender! I'll show you who's the real Bottomless Pit!"
It went quiet.
Shirabu's jaw slackened. Don't tell me... Did she just...?
"YOU'RE CHALLENGING THE BOTTOMLESS PIT?"
"Damn straight! If people are so eager to define me by my appetite, then I say let 'em have it!" Yukie snapped her fingers at the chef. "Bring out all the pasta you have left!"
"R-right away!" Knowing better to argue, the chef ducked back into his kitchen and returned with a huge pot of spaghetti. Inside was even more spaghetti than The Bottomless Pit had eaten in sixty minutes. By the time he returned, people in the restaurant all had their phones out and were filming, and the waiters had set up another table next to The Bottomless Pit's, which Yukie was now sitting in.
"Yukie-san!" Shirabu blurted, standing up half-way. "You... Will you be alright?!" Who the hell could eat that much?! And she was so petite, too. There was no way she would be able to pack in so much—
"Don't worry about me!" Yukie flashed him a thumbs-up.
When this is all over, please go out with me. The words were on the very tip of his tongue, but he swallowed them back so that they left a heavy, annoying ache in the pit of his stomach. Slowly, he sat back down.
The Bottomless Pit crossed his arms and sat there, smug, as Yukie daintily tucked a napkin into the collar of her shirt and examined her silverware.
"This just in!" the announcer of the film crew was saying into the camera. "The Pit has been challenged by...!"
"Shirofuku Yukie," the girl said promptly, twirling her fork in one hand.
Shirofuku Yukie. To his embarrassment, he felt his face start to go hot again, and he just knew Goshiki would ask questions later. As if her first name wasn't nice enough—her last name was the perfect fit!
"Kick his ass!" Yukie's brown-haired girl friend shrieked from the table just before the timer started.
Shirofuku Yukie had no idea what had come over her. But hearing The Bottomless Pit say all those things about Shirabu without nary a though had snapped something inside her. There was no denying on her part that she certainly found Shirabu quite charming, and it was gross watching The Bottomless Pit talk shit about him for maintaining a healthy BMI—
Why, huh?! Having a huge appetite like that shouldn't mean you have to be gross and disgusting like this guy! He's just a really extreme example, so why does everyone see me like that, too?! I'm a cute high school girl, dammit, not some fat old guy! My appetite is not some... some curse!
It was the final straw that broke the camel's back. Yukie slammed her hand on the table, and before she knew it, challenged him to an eating contest.
Even as she smiled and reassured Shirabu (bless him for worrying) and fiddled with her silverware, her belly was doing flops. She didn't know the amount of coverage this would get, but even if it was only shown on local television, everybody in the whole city would know how much of a Bottomless Pit she really was. Not to mention, Shirabu was there, too, and it would probably destroy her chances with him if he witnessed her pig out.
Her hand tightened around her fork as the countdown began. And that's fine. If he can't see past my eating, then he's not worth it.
Because Shirofuku Yukie might have been The Bottomless Pit at her school, but she was still a girl with a lot of heart and a lot of feelings.
"BEGIN!"
Yukie smirked.
Shirabu couldn't believe his eyes. If he had thought The Bottomless Pit was fast, then Yukie had to be eating at Mach 1 speeds. Where... does it all go?! Is she even breathing?!
It was very possible—and Shirabu wasn't exaggerating—that she had the potential to eat more than the entire team combined could in one sitting, and just Ushijima's calorie consumption was nothing to sniff at.
Even The Bottomless Pit looked shocked, his eyes bulging and sweating like the pig he was. Shirabu hovered his thumb over the emergency number just in case he had a stroke or a heart attack or something along those lines.
Goshiki was recording with stars in his eyes, but Shirabu couldn't bring himself to do the same. This wasn't just a moment he wanted to look back at on a screen, but one he wanted to immerse himself into like the meatball tangled in Yukie's spaghetti strings.
Completely unaware of the camera pointed at him (and Yukie) he let his jaw slacken in awe, unable to hide his amazement. Yukie wasn't just a pretty face—she had the fiercest, most unforgiving appetite he had ever had the pleasure of witnessing.
"AND TIME'S UP!"
As the bell rang, Yukie let out a breath and leaned back in her chair. The entire pot was empty, save for a few stray strands of pasta stuck to the bottom.
The restaurant went wild, and Shirabu was not excluded. He banged his knee against the table corner as he stood, rushing for Yukie. Seeing him, she grinned and opened up her arms, expecting a hug of some sort. But Shirabu wasn't quite ready for that yet, and awkwardly grabbed her hands—slick with pasta sauce—and held them.
"Please," Shirabu hardly ever said that word, "go out with me!"
"Senpai?!" squawked Goshiki, almost falling out of his chair.
The cameras were still rolling, but neither cared.
"Eh?" Yukie blinked, surprised. "You... want to go out with me? Even after seeing that? You... don't think I'm... a manly pig or something?"
"He better not!" Kaori shouted from the background.
"Of course not!" Shirabu frowned. "What kind of idiot would think that?"
"Well..." Yukie blushed fully, stuttering. "I... You'll probably be paying for a lot, even if we split the bill."
"I don't care."
She swallowed a nervous lump in her throat. "Then... why don't we get outta here? There's an arcade nearby with the cutest stuffed animals in their claw machines."
Shirabu entwined his fingers with hers, pasta sauce and cheese sticking their palms together. Then he smiled—it wasn't anything big; it was more like a gentle ray of pale sunshine. "Lead the way."
The restaurant burst into applause as the two teenagers left, Kaori wiping a tear away from her eye as she pulled out her phone and started texting someone about the good news.
Then Bokuto and Akaashi entered the restaurant, just as The Bottomless Pit fainted and the ambulance was called.
Akaashi turned to Bokuto. "Are you sure this is the place?"
"Uh—I mean, yeah, but we could go somewhere else—"
"No." Akaashi rested a hand on Bokuto's shoulder, smiling. The place, at this very moment, radiated the same chaotic energy that he had come to identify with Bokuto. "This is perfect."
Bokuto beamed. "I knew you'd love it, Akaaaaashi!"
The following week, Yukie had a new boyfriend who lived all the way in Miyagi, and was 3600 yen richer than she was before (Konoha adamantly refused to hand the money over until Kaori held her English notes hostage)
In Shiratorizawa, Semi and Yamagata had to hold Shirabu back from causing bodily harm to a recently recovered Tendou, who had cropped Shirabu's face (with his mouth open stupidly) from Yukie's eating video (which had gone viral in Japan) and was now insisting that everybody on the team use it as a sticker in the group chat. To Shirabu's dismay, Ushijima turned out to be the one who spammed it with every message he sent, not quite understanding the sentiments meant to be expressed with the sticker.
Ushijima also managed to find Oikawa's number and managed to send him Tendou's custom Shirabu sticker before getting permanently blocked, so at least one member of Seijoh had also seen the horrible thing.
Every weekend, Yukie and Shirabu would meet up in either Tokyo or Sendai, and take each other around to the best restaurants. Occasionally, they would also double-date with Bokuto and Akaashi (the latter, Shirabu found, was more bearable than the former).
Thus, all was well.
"Hey," Yamagata suddenly said in the middle of practice. "Has anyone seen Goshiki?"
"Huh." Semi frowned. "He hasn't shown up to practice for a while now..."
"What do you mean?" Ushijima pointed to a scratched up bowling ball in the corner of the gym. "He's right there."
Semi and Yamagata exchanged a concerned glance while Tendou squawked in laughter in the background.
Epilogue
On the verge of tears, Goshiki's head spun as he looked at the railway chart depicting all the lines at Tokyo Station. "I can't believe senpai left without me! Why does the blue line lead to the ocean?! Is this a river?!"