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Looking out for you, in which (Y/N) lives in a normal world with a normal life. Soulmates are still destined to be, however, right?
~~~
It was a beautiful day outside. The sun was shining its morning rays on a sleepy world, summoning the day as it had for hundreds of years. Despite the light peeking through her curtains, (Y/N) was refusing to wake up. She had stayed up late once more, watching anime and staring at the wall after its ending. Sometimes, the saddest anime make you feel the numbest, despite it being a 2d fantasy.
In her period of staring at the wall the night before, holding back tears as the ending scenes played over and over again in the girl’s head, she had fallen victim to sleep. She gathered the meager amount that she could after her binge, giving her a solid three hours of sleep before her usual scheduled wake up time.
Key word, scheduled.
Despite waking up along with the bright sun for years, she refused to be shaken awake by its familiar and polite rays. Her mind was blank, no thoughts, head empty. Her mindless state was no match for technology, however, as a loud ringing filled her ears moments after 6 am passed.
“GAH”
She sat up swiftly, startled at the shrill shrieking of her phone's alarm. She had woken up to it many times before, just like the sun, but her alarm never failed to startle her. (Y/N), tired and somewhat shaken, raked her fingers through her (H/L), (H/C) hair before letting out a long sigh.
She was not looking forward to the day, mornings were not her strong suit, but she still found the motivation within herself to get up and get dressed. Putting on some background music seemed to help her mood, putting a pep in her step as she wrestled with brushing her hair and struggled to put on her thigh highs, amongst other normal morning routine things. After a good half an hour of basic self care, the young girl made her way out of her room and down the stairs of her home, greeting her mother in the kitchen for a light breakfast before heading off to school once more.
(Y/N) looked at the toast and jam infront of her, the bread accompanied by eggs and a singular, meager slice of bacon. Typically she would complain, but today was not the day. Three hours of sleep was not nearly enough, so she held in her distaste and began to eat. Soon enough, the plate was empty, and our protagonist was waving goodbye to her mother whilst heading out the door. The older woman gave her a small wave back, nostalgia bringing her back to her days as a highschooler.
But this story isn't about (Y/N)’s mother.
She put in her airpods on her morning walk to school. While it was debatable whether walking this early in the morning, early being seven,was not a good decision, the girl simply did not carel. In her eyes, she was not exciting enough to get kidnapped, therefore she can jam out to her favorite artists on her way to school. She let her mind get lost in the beats, rhythms, and cool synth sound effects on her morning walk, after all, music is what mattered most to her.
Eventually, she made it to her destination. Her airpods remained in the girls ears as she put her shoes away in her designated shoe locker, switching to indoor shoes as the rest of the school did. Her eyes wandered to her right side, a group of girls surrounded their friend as she looked at a love letter left in her locker.
THe (H/C)ette smiled.
Love was a weird concept for the female. She often pretended it did not exist solely to not think about it, after all, feelings of love were complicated and tangled. Sometimes it was just easier to not think about, but the sight of her classmate, a girl from 1-3 if she remembered correctly, made her lips perk up slightly. The stranger girl looked as if she was about to cry tears of joy reading the letter, and her friends were beaming at the sight of their friends' newfound success with someone. Bringing her eyes back to the locker in front of her, the girl closed it. Looking down at her phone, she stared blankly at the lockscreen for a moment before looking in front of her once more. Moving her legs once more, (Y/N) made her way to class 1-4.
Class 1-4 was interesting. (Y/N) mostly kept to herself when it came to school activities. She was always either paying attention to classwork or swimming in her own thoughts as music played in the background of her mind. Sure, friends would be nice, but it was a lot of work to make them. Besides, no one around her was interesting. She observed her classmates a lot, hence knowing the girl before was from the class next door, but that did not change the fact that the people at Karasuno Highschool were boring.
Boring was harsh, but it was an accurate statement. In a small town, in a small school, there was nothing particularly exciting about the people she learned with. They all held such mundane lives, and even more mundane hobbies, that the young girl would rather spare herself the formality and kick it by herself. She was not that exciting anyways, who would want to talk to her about music and anime? No one, that's who.
There was one exception, however.
In class 1-4, the girl sat alone minding her business for the majority of class. Her observer-like tendencies, however, did give her the mundane everyday entertainment of watching him.
Tsukishima Kei was an asshole blond who was too tall for his own good and always seemed to be wearing a really nice pair of headphones around his neck.
The headphones were the thing that really made (Y/N) somewhat interested in the boy's existence in the first place. After being assigned the seat behind the blond, and raising her hand to be moved (she could not see the board from behind the beanstalk like male), her hand slowly drifted downward as she saw the Sony headphones around his neck.
At that moment, she made a deal with herself to watch him.
It sounded stalkerish, but it really wasn't. He sat in front of her, and his behavior was open for literally everyone in the class to see, so what was the harm? Besides, it's not like she followed him home or memorised his schedule or anything like that. The classroom was fair game, and she decided to pick apart the blond and his personality.
For the first week of class, she could not pick up much. He kept to himself, seemed bored with literally everything, and wore those headphones all the time. He would often also talk to a boy in class, she thinks his name is Tdado? Tadami? Something along those lines. His last name was Yamaguchi, however, she was sure of that.
As more time passed, things started to get a bit more interesting. She would leave out an airpod during breaks to listen in on the short conversations between Yamaguchi and Tsukishima. It took all her strength not to laugh at the blond’s general uncare of anything the greenette would say, and the constant “Gomen, Tsukki” that would be heard from his mouth. Tsukki was a rather…. Familiar nickname to say the least, so (Y/N) concluded that they were childhood friends of sorts.
She also noticed that Tsukishima was part of a volleyball club along with Yamaguchi. That info was sort of hard to figure out, however the girl had her ways. Tadada (or whatever his first name was) would occasionally mention a team, but of course, ‘Tsukki’ would shut him down most items after speaking about it. For about a week she was stumped at ‘team’, and there was no way she was going to follow the duo to an afternoon club, she had restraint. Instead, she simply waited.
Waiting also means she was at the shoe lockers one morning and saw some sort of sport shoe in an extra bag Tsukki had.
She had no clue what shoes went with what sport, so of course she googled it. After around fifteen minutes of searching, she found it. It was a volleyball shoe of all things. It made a lot of sense, Tsukishima was really tall after all, he could block the balls or something like that. Almost like an umbrella, the girl thought, a blond, angry umbrella.
One particular day in class, during english specifically, the girl had managed to sneak an airpod into the ear facing away from her teacher. It did not matter for the most part anyways, the girl sat near the back to the side of the classroom, but she still continued to be cautious. In front of her was an english notebook, its pages littered with occasional scribbles about a language she had no interest in. Thank god she was somewhat good at the subject, which warranted her to not pay that much attention to it.
Looking down at the notebook, she wanted to write something. Something was compelling her to move her hand, to scribble down whatever her mind was thinking. Another part of her, however, refused to write about something like english. It was boring, and not entertaining in the slightest. Instead, she let her hand go, and letting go resulted in her very first notepage on Tsukishima.
It was brief, writing down a description of the boy, what she knew, and who he hung out with. She mentioned his bitterness, his dismissal of his (what she observed to be) extreme closeness to Yamaguchi, so on and so forth.
Looking down at her writing, she was kind of disgusted with herself in a way. She just wrote a whole, somewhat detailed note page about a boy she had never even spoken to before. All because at the beginning of the year she refused to move seats from behind him due to headphones. Headphones.
Of course that evening she was at a stationary store, buying a dedicated notebook.
Despite disgust, the classroom was fair game. It was not stalking, it was phycology. She was an observer, and she also had no purpose at the moment. Walking through the narrow aisles of the stationary store closest to her home, she scanned the journal section for the perfect notebook on her notes of Tsukishima Kei.
It had to be something nice, but nothing too flashy. Cute, but not childish.
Looking aimlessly at the options in front of her, (Y/N) stared blankly at the vast notebook section of the store. She even turned down her music for this, but alas, she was still frustrated. Everything was either too flashy or too boring for her taste. The paper too thin or the lines too far apart. Curse her pickiness, it just made everything more complicated.
“Ma’am, you've been standing here for awhile now. Is there anything I can help you with?”
Like her morning alarm, of course (Y/N) jumped at the unfamiliar sound of a store attendant simply asking if she needed assistance. Her sweet voice broke the half silence half music running through her head, and of course, (Y/N) faced the woman for her response. Once again she was caught off guard at the beauty of the shop attendant. She had long, curly black hair and paper white skin. Her mascara was slightly clumpy, and her eyeliner was smudged, almost if she just came out of a party or something, but she still radiated beauty and positivity. The younger girl shook her head.
“Im fine, thank you.”
The beautiful lady, name tag reading Akari, crossed her arms. Young, beautiful, and smart, the attendant could tell there was something bothering (Y/N).
“Are you really sure? You've been staring at this display for around ten minutes strait now.”
The younger girl sighed, looking back at the woman. She seemed competent, maybe she could help with her quest for her stalker notebook.
“I'm looking for a journal? Kind of?”
The woman nodded.
“What type of things are you writing in this journal? And is it personal or professional?”
She was efficient too. There was no way, however, (Y/N) was going to admit to her stalker note journal. She whipped up a fake excuse in her head, birdwatching or something, and if the time arose, she would use it. Birdwatching. Expert excuse.
“It's for personal use. Its notes? Like, observations. I'm kind of picky and I need a nicer notebook, but nothing boring or anything.”
The woman nodded her head.
“Come with me, I think I may have something more your speed in the back.”
---
The shop woman was amazing.
After purchasing her new favorite object, and immediately passing out as soon as she got home, (Y/N) strutted into class 1-4 the next day with a Sanrio notebook. She did not want anything flashy, or anything too childish, however clearance is a wild thing and as soon as Akari saw (Y/N) lay eyes on the notebook she knew it was love at first sight. It was specifically little twin stars, the pink and blue pastels clashing heavily with the natural, deep tones of literally everything else in the girl’s bag. She had no room to care, however, and as soon as she was seated, transferred the note page from her english notebook into her new ‘stalker notes’ book instead. Tape worked wonders, and it sure did not fail her now.
As more and more time passed, Stalker notes got more and more tattered as more and more entries were made. Call it obsession, call it a crush, but (Y/N) was not going to back down from her goal. In fact, just in case her precious notebook was ever found or broken into, she made a loving note in the front cover to ensure the reader that she was not mentally ill and/or a threat or danger to society.
‘I just want to know what music he listens to, and if I have to break down literally everything about him to get to my goal, I will’
That would clear her name, right?
After a month, she forgot about the note anyways.
Pages upon pages were written about Tsukishima and Tarado during class and breaks. Typically accompanied by the girls now trademark single right airpod, she scribbled detail after detail about the boy into her book. It proved a challenge since he hated talking about personal things most of the time, but little details could go a long way.
From the looks of his lunches, and small talk between Yamaguchi and the blond, she had deduced that his mother made his bento everyday, and he likely did not have a father around in the house. He apparently had an older brother, he would complain about him once in a blue moon, so on so forth. He hates walking home with his volleyball team, calling the other two first years that accompanied him on the court ‘annoying’. The previous idea of the boy being a blocker of some sort was true, he was indeed a middle blocker.
Those were obvious things though, things even an amatur would pick up from a subject. After a hefty amount of pages on the basics, (Y/N) was determined to know the inner workings of Tsukki via behavior. This was a different league than the amatur observations she had been making previously, however. This was going to answer the question on the front of her book, and hopefully answer her curiosity about the blond before things got too out of hand.
As another month passed, she got the details only the likes of Yamaguchi would know, and she was quite proud of herself too. She noticed how he slightly perked up (ever so slightly mind you) at the sight of strawberry shortcake in his bento. She noticed the way he seemed more uptight on the days he received confession letters (he was surprisingly popular with the girls, and he tried his best to pretend it did not affect him). She noticed how his shoulders relaxed when it started to rain during class hours. She knew these things and a lot more, all being held captive in that stupidly pastel, Little Twin Stars notebook.
She had grown attached to that stupid, stalker, pastel notebook, though. It became her hobby, it gave her motivation to wake up in the morning, it gave her purpose. That notebook made her somewhat noticeable loneliness disappear, all because she had something, and someone, to focus on. On one spring afternoon, she was making her way home after a long day of school.
She had not made many new notes today, she mostly just tallied Tsukishima’s movements and behaviors to things during class. She had started a whole plethora of tallies for the boy, aiming to analyse his reactions to predict said reactions in the future. Music filled her ears as a small smile found its way on her face as it often did these days. Walking through her front door, (Y/N)’s mother greeted her as she came in, her voice ringing throughout the house from the kitchen. Despite it being just the two of them, the older (L/N) spent a lot of time in the kitchen all thanks to the money she received in her divorce. (Y/N) didn't really know her father, and didn't really have an urge to know him, her mother was just fine.
Waltzing her way into the kitchen, (Y/N) tossed her school bag to the side and offered her mother a hug, which the older woman accepted with open arms.
“Someone’s happy today.”
The girl nodded, smiling slightly wider.
“I guess so, whatcha making?”
(M/N) smiled, head motioning towards the oven. A buttery, vanilla like smell wafted throughout the entirety of the kitchen. The mother smiled as her daughter peered into the oven glass, observing the slow rising cake from within.
For the past few months, she had noticed her daughter becoming brighter. She had no clue what caused the sudden change in mood, but the woman appreciated seeing her daughter coming home with a smile on her face everyday. Before, she was an amazing daughter of course, but now? She was flourishing. It was clear as day.
“It's going to be a vanilla cake, but I'm icing it with buttercream and strawberries. Winter is disappearing, so I thought I would make a cake representing that.”
The girl rose from in front of the oven, looking at her mother insead.
Strawberries.
She giggled at the joke with herself. Taukishima liked strawberries, specifically shortcake though. Does he like cake with strawberries, or just the shortcake version? They're practically the same thing, but there is quite a texture difference.
“I'm sure it's going to be amazing, mom.”
With that, the younger girl scurried out of the kitchen, grabbing her previously abandoned bag in the process, and made her way into her room. Placing the rather beaten bag atop her bed, she aimed to get her homework out of the way for the day before watching the end of the anime she was currently watching. She only had three episodes left, and was fully adamant about making yet another cut out for her favorite character of said series whilst doing so. Her mother had just gotten her fresh printer ink too, therefore her cut out would be in full color without any signs of streaking or black and white.
Yanking open her bag, she was met with the familiar sight of deep toned folders and binders, accompanied by a stray pencil or eraser in the spare pockets in the bag. Grabbing her english folder, she did a double take. Of course her vocab homework was present, but ‘Stalker Notes’ was very much not.
Shit.
---
The next morning, (Y/N) was restless when getting ready for school.
She pulled on her socks with haste, buttoning her shirt at record speed and brushing through the tangles in her hair with no regard to her tender head. Grabbing her bag, she raced down the stairs without even giving a goodbye to her mother. The older woman sighed, hoping her daughter was truly okay as she saw her run down the street through the kitchen window. Her face was obviously troubled, something must be wrong.
(Y/N) really just wanted to go to school to secure her notebook. In reality, it was probably on her desk, or perhaps the teacher found it and kept it for safekeeping until the owner was found. She had not written her name in the book for obvious reasons, if the note in the front wouldn't work she could always abandon ship, however at this point she was sure at least the teacher knew the girl was writing in a Sanrio notebook everyday. Like her, he seemed pretty observant.
When arriving at school, (Y/N) took several deep breaths as she changed her shoes at the shoe lockers. Unlike previous mornings, she was not surrounded by other students. The girl from 1-3 was not chatting with her boyfriend, the usual chatter of girls gossiping was absent, and thank god, Tsukishima seemed to be nowhere in sight. (Y/N) sighed in relief. If the notebook was in the classroom, he probably would just ignore its existence. There was no room for error in her assumption, however, if the man in question wasn't even at school.
It was time to find her notebook.
Walking into class 1-4, (Y/N) was immediately met with the familiar air of the classroom she had grown to know and love. Closing the door behind her, the girl quickly made her way over to her desk and explored the area surrounding.
Inside? No. Below? No. On top? No.
Next was the teacher's desk. She remembered in middle school, the classroom teacher had a mini lost and found for students classroom items. That way they did not have to make the trek across campus to the official lost and found for something simple left behind, like a notebook or pencil case. Maybe this teacher had the same?
She was too desperate to care.
Carefully looking through stacks of papers and drawers filled with lesson plans, nothing turned up. The (H/C) sighed, running her fingers through her hair. She would ask her teacher during break, and make her way to the lost and found afterward. She just prayed to whatever god that was above that no one had looked through her ‘stalker notes’ notebook. No one had seen the inner workings of Tsukishima, along with her obsession of picking the boy apart for no apparent reason. She could possibly get in trouble if someone got the wrong idea as well.
She could only pray.
Making her way back to her desk, the girl put in her trusty airpods once more and looked at the time. It was 7:30. Students would most likely be appearing soon, filling classrooms and giving the old Karasuno campus some life. Despite her worry, (Y/N) decided to stay calm during this trying time. Everything was going to be okay, she was sure of it. Laying her head on her hands, she opted to close her eyes and get lost in thought for the next half hour until classes started.
Slowly but surely, the door to the classroom begane to open and close with the arrival of her classmates. One by one, they made their way inside and took their seats, talking to friends or catching up on homework they forgot to do the night before. The familiar sounds did not sway (Y/N)’s peaceful state. She continued to think, to dream about anything besides her current situation. Sometimes, when things were too complicated, it was best to forget about them.
“I believe this is yours.”
(Y/N)’s eyes shot open at the familiar, smug voice. Raising from her arms, the girl took out her airpods as she looked at the looming boy standing over her desk, Sanrio notebook in hand. Her face visibly paled at the boy's smirk.
She knew he read it. She knew. He didn't ignore it, he was smart after all. She noticed him for his headphones, he probably noticed her for her short glances at him in class, and the constant scribbling she was up to in her notebook. He noticed, therefore he read it.
Shakily, the female grasped the bottom corners of the battered notebook gingerly. She tugged as to get it back fully in her possession, but the blonds iron like grip refused to let go. She looked up at him once more, annoyance on her face replacing the shock from earlier. She was still terrified, but sometimes, you have to put on a mask. She knew what type of person Tsukishima was, and she should know at this point how to deal with him, right?
“Can I have my notebook back now?”
Tarada shot a glance at his taller friend, unsure of how to react. He had been with Tsukki at the original reading of the girl’s notebook, at first protesting on her behalf. Both of them were slightly stunned at the contents, and despite the fact that Yamaguchi would typically go along with Tsukki’s antics, this seemed different.
“I don't think so. Before you get your ‘stalker notes’ I think you call it? I want to know more about you. It's only fair, considering you know so much about me already.”
You gulped, the blond laughed.
This was certainly going to be interesting